NationStates Jolt Archive

The sky was alight with hues of red and violet. The clouds, a mixture of orange and pink. The mighty sun descending behind the horizon, its last rosy rays being extinguished behind the hills and the thick black smoke that rose from the city of Capiline. Flames shot up towards the heavens, bright and menacing they flickered about the rubble of the factories, stores, and warehouses of the city, all belonging to the company known as Buy and Sell Inc. A foreign invader that had bought dominance over the nation, and had enslaved the populuce in an industrialised hellhold.

"Burn them!" he yelled, "Burn them all to the ground!"

Gunfire was evident throughout every street and alleyway, the populus taking up arms along with the small national army, engaging in firefights with the mercenaries who were recruited to protect the interests of the conglomerate within the city-state. Rubble, flame and blood mingled in the streets, creating a bastard child of hell itself, a homage to the darkness that was replacing the light of day, the sun now falling completely out of sight.

Marcus stood atop a pile of smouldering wreakage, his face covered in dried blood and ash, his shirt in tatters about his athletic chest, an M4A1 carbine in his right hand, his left outstrecthed and pointing at an enemy position. Twice now had he led a bloody revolt against foreigners who sought to rule Capiline. The first, a mercenary who made himself King when the city faced destruction at the hands of foreign invaders. A knife had found its way into the tyrants chest, his blood staining Marcus' victorious hands red, the realisation of a Republic coming into view. And now, a second revolt, against those who had bought nobility within the nation, and made themselves foreign oppressors for profit, not the glory of the nation.

"Kill the traitors who have sworn allegiance to Buy and Sell Inc!" he yelled.

"KILL THEM ALL!" was the scream of an extremly angry looking commando as he chucked a fragmentation grenade into an angry mob.

The various mercenaries pulled back into the factory grounds, sealing the heavy steel gates behind them. Meanwhile, the tower turrets on each corner of the factories started lobbing powerful shells into the disorderly mobs, leveling buildings and other such refuges. As the guards on the walls secured their positions, chucking grenades and raining down semi-automatic fire, the guards in the factories sprayed down machine gun fire onto the crowds.

In two factories, the defences were even heavier. At one factory two tanks waiting to be delivered to their destination lined up and started sending more shells into the crowd. What's more, at a factory on the other side of the city three helicopters hovered up, blasting apart the rebels.

The mob began to dissipate, the unarmed men and women that made up the majority of it now screaming in terror instead of anger, and they began to flee for cover, attempting to escape the onslaught that was being unleashed upon them. Bodies littered the streets, a veritable sea of blood beginning to paint everything a dark and evil crimson.

A rocket smashed into the side of one of the defence turrets guarding the main factory, followed by many more. They flew through the air with speed and precision, the trails of grey smoke showing where they were emminating from, following them to their destinations. Automatic fire sprang up from behind any and all cover that was afforded. Debris from destroyed buildings, even mounds of corpses served as cover for the soldiers of Capiline, who had been mustered into the one area to concentrate on destroying the heavily armored factory.

Marcus peered out from the rubble he was stationed behind, his piercing eyes surveying the battlefield, taking in all the enemy positions, and the positions of all his men. Beside him soldiers poppped up and down like groundhogs, unleashing rounds from their carbines, or sending more rockets flying, even some taunting RPGs.

"Those helicopters need eliminating," he noted, and turned to the two heavy troopers that sat with him. He was about to say something, but then looked above him at the ruins of a building. "Get up to the top floors of this building, make sure you aren't seen, and take out those birds. Go, now!"

The two soldiers left, and Marcus turned his attention back to the fray. He noticed his sharpshooters, the few men he had with sniper rifles, pinned down behind a flaming car. "Get your asses into that building behind you, now! We need to take our their grenadiers and sharpshooters! Move!" Popping out of cover for a minute, he unleashed a burst from his carbine.

A man with brown hair in wraparound sunglasses with dark hair, pulled into the harbor on a small motorboat. He had a hawaiian shirt on with light brown slacks. A simple brown belt was around his waist. He stepped off onto the walkway, where he met two other men. He was wearing a steel watch which he looked at for a moment. Then he handed a suitcase with a computer in it to another man. He said, simply, "For delivery, Donald Duck wants it."

"Donald Duck" was a professor at a small trade school in the city. He stayed late that night, setting up a program which would upload a variety of files to targeted websites, and protest websites against Buy and Sell used by regular citizens.

They contained a variety of technical descriptions on how to make guerrilla materials, homemade mortars, homemade rockets, simple machine guns, pipe bombs, build technicals-- convert 4 wheel drive vehicles into armored vehicles, setup barricades, block off roads, and similar materials which could be built in an everyday machine shop. With this was standard guerrilla tactics manuals.

Donald left that night, shortly afterwards, the harddrives on the machines would be destroyed. He was prepared to die if captured.

OOC: Commonalitarianism, this thread is closed, as well in a region you have no holdings in. That and your post has nothing to do with the rest of the thread. Spread your anti-Buy & Sell propaganda somewhere else.

IC:

The fires and blood rose, creating a mist and heavy smokes, visibility starting to be clogged. Of course, to those that lived for the towering, polluting factories the smoke was a light mist. To the others, it was a heavy veil of putrid death and despair.

Even though Buy & Sell combatants had the upside on the smoke, they were still worried. They called out to all New Vantanian channels asking for reinforcments. The call was soon answered, as five Buy & Sell fighting ships were spared from protecting various merchants and were en route to the combat zone. Meanwhile, three air ship carriers were sent by the government to save New Vantanian blood.

Then the rockets came, en masse. The turrets lobbed out shells as fast as they could, indiscriminately leveling anything the rebels could hide behind, especially buildings, as well as those areas that the rockets were coming from. Still, their fate was sealed as eventually the towers collapsed. Yet in most cases the cannons were still usable and shells continued raining down on the rioters from these make-shift mortars.

This cleared the way for the mercenary guards in mixed armors, picking off the scum as their cover was blown away, or shooting them quickly as they rose to take shots at the New Vantanians. Still, this armor was not the be all end all, and they were still forced to crouch under fire.

The heavy steel gates slid open briefly, closing as soon as the two tanks roared out from the factory grounds, running amock in enemy positions. They blasted apart buildings, ran over people, and generally killed people.

Meanwhile the helicopters stayed high and dry, blasting apart the city, relaying enemy locations, and sputtering out machine gun fire. No matter what happened, the Capilineans would suffer the consequences of the insurrection for years to come.

Orders were relayed, mostly by runners or coded conversations over radios. The soldiers knew what they had to do, and followed the commands of their leaders expertly, the death and destruction around them doing little to hinder their spirits and hopes of victory and liberation.

As the armored vehicles of the capitalists began to role about the street facing the factory, demolishing or gutting everything that moved around them, the Capilineans began to fall back in an orderly retreat, as orderly as the situation would allow. Two or three would break cover and make mad dashes for the nearest thing behind them that would afford a new hideout, whilst their comrades fired quickly and in frenzy to cover them from the enemy soldiers that were steadily advancing with the support of their armored divisions. The pattern of cover, fire, then run continued until the entire force had moved back to the end of the street, leaving a good forty or so yards between them and their foes. There, behind a thick wall of debris and sandbags that had been placed near the start of the conflict, they began to make their stand. The cannons of the now downed towers were out of range, and would be too vulnerable to move forwards out of the factory walls, and without the constant pounding of the makeshift artillery a crucial advantage of the enemy was now neutralised for the time being.

The soldiers popped up and down from their barricades, firing their carbines wildly but semi accuratly at their oppressors, taking heart in the fact that the fallen chunks of buildings, the stacked carcasses of flaming vehicles, and the high pilled sandbags made too think a wall for the tanks to blast through. It was one of the singular advantages the Capilineans had: A good distance with which to hammer the enemy with gunfire whilst they made their way down the singular street that led to the factory in order to be able to inflict any significant damage to the people of the ruined city. Even the aerial advantage of Buy & Sell Inc. was gone, for AA turrets had been brought up finally. The defenders holdout was becoming a veritable field base.

While the communist rebels were retreating, the tanks sought refuge, relaying the location of the enemy. This was not all, for while the tanks could not be hit easily, they could still hit, and tank shells soon joined the barrage of turret shells, still within range after a bit of repositioning. The Capilineans underestimated the power of their turrets, as well as the size of the factory grounds. Yet still, this pounding could do little due to the distance and fortitude of the foe's base. With the helicopters being forced to flee back into the factory, it had become a cold standstill, for now.

While the cannons pounded, the mercenaries ducked behind their walls, realizing that unlike the communists they could not get good shots at their foe. So, for the time being, no one died, as each group was held in place, unable to destroy the other. That was, until they came.

Covered by the shelling, a group of fifty Senatorial Guards stealthily made their way to the rear of the rebels, pointing RPGs at the AA turrets, clustered groups of men, and communication lines. With a click, the grenades propelled forward to their targets. Not waiting to see if the grenades hit, the Guard dropped the RPGs and picked up semi-automatic rifles, spraying the foe while screaming profanities.

Meanwhile, the ships, aerial and naval, were nearing the city. They were preparing their guns, cannons, and missles, to end the insurrection in a great blood bath. If the factory could hold out just a little longer, then the reinforcments could arrive and destroy the haughty host.

OOC; I'd just like to point out that the city is pretty far from water, so your ships would only be able to fire missiles at me, anything else would be far out of range. Just a little F.Y.I so you don't plan your strategy around a naval bombardment.

IC:

"How the fuck did they get around us? That factory sits at the edge of the city, surrounded by its walls! They should have only been able to move down this fucking street!" Marcus swore as he sucked at a cut on his arm, created from a sharp protruding object he ran into while finding more adequate cover against the rear assualt.

"There goes our ambush" replied a soldier that had followed him into the new position.

Nodding in anger, Marcus looked back at the street running to the factory. "Fuck it. If their armor and men won't come at us directly, no sense not using our rockets." He picked up his radio and began giving out new orders.

From the buildings that flanked the singular street came a horde of missiles and rocket propelled grenades as the heavy soldiers that had been hidden withing popped out of their hidding spots and opened up at the tanks and soldiers that waited nearby unawares at the front of their factory gates. The few tanks would be made short work of, and then the remaining tower guns would be targeted, their gunners picked off by the concealed snipers that had been positioned within the buildings too.

With the men at the factory being taken care of, the fort began dealing with the rear assualt. Drawing a new line in the sand they began firing at the attacking foe that had moved around them. The AA guns had been rendered useless for now, but they weren't beyond repair.

OOC: I protest! I have stated multiple times that I have been leveling all buildings in the combat zone! Also, while I'll give you the tanks, my mercenaries are all 50 yards behind a large reinforced concrete wall, not dawdling around at the heavy steel factory gate. So my factory guys are still in. Lastly, it's bad form to call other people's casualties. Please edit your post accordingly and I'll respond in the morning. Sorry if this sounds hostile or anything, it's a bit late.

OOC: Yeah I know you've been leveling the city, but with air units and artillery, not ships. Another thing, you posted saying that soldiers with some sort of heavy armor had left the walls of your factory and were moving up with your tanks awhile back. Lemme find the quote...

This cleared the way for the mercenary guards in mixed armors, picking off the scum as their cover was blown away, or shooting them quickly as they rose to take shots at the New Vantanians. Still, this armor was not the be all end all, and they were still forced to crouch under fire.

If that wasn't your intent on having them move out of the fortress, then my bad, I misunderstood and will redesign my post. As for the claim that I've posted your casualties, I have done nothing of the sort. I merely used wording that assumed the destruction of your forces after my missile barrages and sniper attacks, just like you assumed the destruction of a large chunk of my men and all my AA guns when your rear attack came. Had I gone "ZOMG!!!! MY RPGS SHOOTZ AND SMASHES INTO THINE TANKS WITH +10 STRENGTH OF DESTRUCTION, LEAVING THEM AS FLAMING MOUNDS OF CRAP ON THE LAWN!!! LOL LOL PWN!!" then I would be RPing your casualties.

OOC: When I protested to leveling the combat zone, it was in protest to this particular paragraph:

"From the buildings that flanked the singular street came a horde of missiles and rocket propelled grenades as the heavy soldiers that had been hidden withing popped out of their hidding spots and opened up at the tanks and soldiers that waited nearby unawares at the front of their factory gates. The few tanks would be made short work of, and then the remaining tower guns would be targeted, their gunners picked off by the concealed snipers that had been positioned within the buildings too."

Also, I was having those soldiers stay in the factory, not following the tank. Those were the soldiers on the wall that you were refering to, and I later had them back up into the factory.

As for posting my casualties, you said that my tanks were "made short work of".

What's more, I didn't use wording that even implied you took casualties. I merely stated that I fired RPGs, before switching to machine guns.

OOC: Actually I said "would be made short work of" as I was assuming realism, because let's face it, at least ten rockets or RPGs hitting them(and with the amount of them being fired ten isn't that far fetched a number for accuracy against a stationary tank) would surely destroy them, same as the number of them you launched at me would realistically destroy the AA guns. I never actually posted your losses, just assumed that those things would be lost, however you could post otherwise.

As for the levelled buildings, I don't think that matters. Sending them crashing to the ground still leaves a large amount of debris with which to hide in, in otherwords, buildings, not standing ones, but buildings none-the-less.

And I understand now what you mean by soldiers. I'll have that part edited once we figure the rest of this out.

OOC: Okay, the casualties thing seems fixed up. But... I'd think that having a building exploding under your feet, falling, and then having the roof crumble down on you would either:

a. bury you alive
b. break a bunch of bones
c. all of the above
d. kill you

Now granted, their would be some who would survive, but not in the numbers you were posting.

OOC: You posted leveling the buildings before I posted my men entering them. As far as I'm concerned, they was already heaps of rubble when I entered 'em.

OOC: Where exactly did you post the men going into the buildings? I can't find it, sorry.

OOC: It wasn't actually said that they were sent into the buildings, but it was during my post that my men fell back to the new field base. I stated that it was but the normal infantry that were moving back, as they only had carbines and such. I said orders were given to all the men, but I left the actions of the heavy infantry hidden.

OOC: That wouln't do, I need to know everything OOCly, so I can respond ICly. It would seem likely that my tanks would find see them, and so I think that your move is a godmod, as I had no idea. It is very likely that I would have noticed them, but you godmoded them into invisibility.

OOC: I'd have to disagree. Considering that my men were hidden everywhere around the area, and lets not forget your massive pounding of artillery and such, which would send up a thick cloud of smoke and dust, more than enough to shroud my actions. Also, I don't think I should have to tell everything I'm doing. Implying is adequate in my opinion.

OOC: I'm sorry, but that's not how it works in International Incidents. There's this thing called 'SIC', or Secret In Character. You have to post everything you do in a post, even if it's SIC, or it's a godmod.

OOC: Ah, ok. Well, I'll change the post then tomorrow, and we can finally continue this RP.:)

OOC: We're going to have to start a little before your last IC post because of all these changes.

OOC: How about we just go back to when I fall back to my new base? I think that's the least confusing point.

OOC: Alrighty then, will do.

Orders were relayed, mostly by runners or coded conversations over radios. The soldiers knew what they had to do, and followed the commands of their leaders expertly, the death and destruction around them doing little to hinder their spirits and hopes of victory and liberation.

As the armored vehicles of the capitalists began to role about the street facing the factory, demolishing or gutting everything that moved around them, the Capilineans began to fall back in an orderly retreat, as orderly as the situation would allow. Two or three would break cover and make mad dashes for the nearest thing behind them that would afford a new hideout, whilst their comrades fired quickly and in frenzy to cover them from the enemy soldiers that were steadily advancing with the support of their armored divisions. The pattern of cover, fire, then run continued until the entire force had moved back to the end of the street, leaving a good forty or so yards between them and their foes. There, behind a thick wall of debris and sandbags that had been placed near the start of the conflict, they began to make their stand. The cannons of the now downed towers were out of range, and would be too vulnerable to move forwards out of the factory walls, and without the constant pounding of the makeshift artillery a crucial advantage of the enemy was now neutralised for the time being.

The soldiers popped up and down from their barricades, firing their carbines wildly but semi accuratly at their oppressors, taking heart in the fact that the fallen chunks of buildings, the stacked carcasses of flaming vehicles, and the high pilled sandbags made too think a wall for the tanks to blast through. It was one of the singular advantages the Capilineans had: A good distance with which to hammer the enemy with gunfire whilst they made their way down the singular street that led to the factory in order to be able to inflict any significant damage to the people of the ruined city. Even the aerial advantage of Buy & Sell Inc. was gone, for AA turrets had been brought up finally. The defenders holdout was becoming a veritable field base.

"We can't hold up here forever, sir! They've got us beat here, outgunned and now outmanned! We must fall back!" A soldier emplored his leader.

Marcus turned an angry glance at the man, making him shrink. "Retreat?! RETREAT?! You coward! I shall not abandon my city to these foreign invaders!"

"Perhaps, then," the calm voice of a nearby captain making its way into the conversation, "We make a tactical, TACTICAL, retreat east, out of the city. The national army said they wouldn't join in your little crusade because they didn't agree with expelling people that had helped developpe the city, but now that they've fired on our people, on unarmed civilians, they won't refuse us now. We can link up with them at their fort then simply retake the city."

Marcus snarled and looked at the ground, all the empty shells laying at his feet. He didn't like the idea, but it seemed his only viable option. "Very well. Tell the men to start falling back. We make for the northern gate, then make our way east to the garrison."

Bump....