NationStates Jolt Archive

The rain had stopped, finally, at least for now. It rained an awful lot in the Black Marsh, not much they could do about it, but it was still the truth. The small patrol was thoroughly soaked, and despite having done their best to keep their weapons dry they had mostly failed in that regard. The cool of the evening darkness didn't help matters either. Everyone was cold, wet, and slightly pissed. They'd gotten off course after an ambush and had been rolling along slowly searching for an Army outpost, since every road basically led to one.

It was perhaps a good thing that the Argonian government had swapped the old aluminum AAR-556 to a more modern format, replacing the aluminum and plastic with carbon fiber to provide less weight and make it impervious to moisture, a handy thing when it rained nearly every other day. Their patrol consisted of two six-man squads, each in a two humvees, and a single Bradley support vehicle. The interiors of the humvees were already partly flooded, and those that weren't were caked thickly with black mud.

The soldier in the lead humvee's turret brought the heavy M2 around to bear on something he'd seen in the distance...

"Sir, I think we've got something up ahead..."

Down in the vehicle, in the passenger seat, sat the leader of the patrol, a 1st Lieutenant by the single vertical black bar on his helmet, leaned his head out of the bullet-resistant glass window to get a better look, bringing a pair of binoculars to his yellow eyes. Thunder boomed in the distance, heralding another downpour which started some ten seconds after the clapping from overhead...

"You sure, private? I don't see anything..."

The hissing woosh of a rocket-propelled grenade taking flight up ahead changed his mind however. The gunner heaved himself out of the turret, throwing his body as far from the doomed vehicle as he could as the missile sped forward, the LT doing much the same thing diving out of the door, mimicked by the driver on the other side...

"Ambush! Freaking ambush! Open fire!"

Rain has a strange effect on impact detonators, and the device on this particular round was no exception. It smashed through the windshield and exploded a split-second too late within the cabin, throwing shrapnel and fire in all directions. His ears still ringing from the blast, the patrol leader struggled to one knee, pulling his issued Para-Ordnance Tac-Five as he'd left his new AAR-556C in the destroyed hummer, and it was now a melted heap of uselessness. The gunner already had his rifle up, he'd had the foresight to bring it with him. The driver, a sergeant first class, lay dying from a shrapnel hunk buried in his neck, bleeding out into the dark mud in the road. The medic that had rushed to his aide simply began dragging him to the rear hummer's position for extraction, there was little he could have done.

The Bradley opened up with its 30mm cannon in the direction of the shot, spraying everything in a forward arc ahead of it with potent 7.62x51mm rounds as the hummers in front and behind it fanned out as best they could to provide suppressing fire as everyone but the drivers and gunners exited the vehicles to fight on foot. After a minute of responsive fire, the Lieutenant called a cease-fire and the infantry advanced to find a small village hidden behind the rain and the trees...

"Hold it, hold it. Gather up..."

His remaining sergeants clustered to him, kneeling in a circle around him. They were going to do this by the book, keeping low until they could establish if this village was friendly or hostile. A quick hand signal brought the drivers out of the hummers, leaving the gunners to provide supporting fire for the searching troops. Each had the basic AAR-556C, some outfitted with the M203 40mm grenade launcher. There was also a staff sergeant packing a modified M14 with a six-power scope for precision fire at distances past what the 40mm's were capable of. Each fire-team positioned themselves in a tactical wedge formation and started their movement towards the huts.

There was no sign of an RPG being fired, but then again it was hard to scorch wet mud...

"No sign of 'em sir, we'll keep looking..."

The sniper and the lieutenant were sitting patiently on the edge of the village, keeping an over-watch and directing the small formations of soldiers as best he could with their damaged personal communication systems. The hummers had aligned themselves along the road, overlapping their fields of fire in order to slaughter anything that might pose a threat in short order. The Bradley had remained almost where it had been, already having a clear field of fire into the village, the 30mm able to level the entire settlement with ease...

At least they thought so. Their enemies had different ideas...

A simple arrow flew from somewhere in the Marsh, taking the first gunner in the neck, the second caught a shuriken made from chitin in much the same area, and the third was dispatched in a much more personal fashion, via a sword strike to the neck. The second didn't die that easily, he swung his M2 around and squeezed a burst before the slayer of the third gunner was able to leap to his turret and finish him with an accurate slice. The Bradley turret, intrigued by the gunfire, rotated towards the hummer formation, and seeing it overtaken by the enemy, fired a single 30mm round into the middle hummer, killing the swordsman and anything nearby as all three vehicles were rendered useless. The lieutenant, now knowing he'd been lured into a deadly trap, began calling for a retreat...

"Lead to all fire teams, pull back to the Bradley! We've been tricked! Fall back!"

The sniper to his left suddenly raised his rifle and fired a single shot, catching an insurgent square in the face before he could fire the RPG he was holding. There was a mighty series of battle-cries that came from almost every direction, and then they were surrounded by dozens of Anti-Modernist Argonians, covered in mud and mottled paint, wielding an array of traditional weapons. The fire teams formed defensive circles as best they could, but they had to reload at some point, and when they dropped their magazines the enemy closed in and it was brutal point-blank melee from there on in. Grenades were used up in short order, killing many insurgents before they knew what hit them and setting many of the huts on fire, but once the melee started they became useless.

Soldiers either brought out knives of their own or bashed with the butts of their rifles. Those few that deemed it effective went for their own Tac-Fives and began alternately swinging and shooting as they were set upon by better-armed and vicious foes that outnumbered them. The sniper and the lieutenant fared better than most, either killing them before they got in range, or, well, that was just about it. The sniper did most of the work while the LT simply made sure nobody got behind him. One fire team was completely overtaken, the last man brutally decapitated with a silk-sword, similar to a katana but with a straighter blade with an edge down the back half of the blade. The killer's eyes met those of the LT, who fired a pair of 9mm rounds at the insurgent, both of which missed, and the insurgent charged. The steady stream of pistol rounds missed each time, but less and less by the time the warrior was almost to him, at which point the slide locked back, empty. The shining blade cut upward across his armored chest, leaving a nice streak in his SAPI plate before the sniper next to him bashed him in the throat with the butt-stock of his M14, followed with a stomp to the downed insurgent's neck to make sure he was dead.

The LT nodded in thanks as he slapped a fresh magazine into his pistol. At this point, two teams were completely down, the other two so badly shredded that they had merged into one team and were desperately defending the Bradley as it mowed down anything that came in range...

"Sargent, we make for the Bradley with the rest of them! You ready?"

The sniper-sergeant nodded, bringing his rifle up for the move, and they took off running. About half way, something tackled the LT, an insurgent with blades attached to his forearms, which he drove down into the officer's shoulder before he took a 9mm to the face. It wasn't enough, however, two more with spears came out of nowhere and he was lanced to death as he fired ineffectively before a spear-head was buried in his left eye. The sniper kept up his run, diving under the Bradley's arc of death and into the midst of his comrades. He was the ranking soldier outside the support vehicle, but there wasn't much he would be able to do, the troops had arrayed themselves nicely, but were running low on ammo. Most of the extra rounds had been stored in the humvees, and those were burning despite the downpour.

With little else to do, he added the thundering boom of his larger-caliber rifle to the roar of automatic gunfire around him. The five surviving soldiers were now standing in a pile of spent magazines and the dim glimmer of empty brass which littered the muddy ground like sand. The insurgents weren't dumb, however, and they circled around behind the Bradley with a TNT charge and a pry-bar, wrenching open the top-hatch before throwing the beeping charge within the small tank. The crew didn't notice over the constant scream of their coaxial gun and the boom of the 30mm, at least until the charge blew, ripping the vehicle open from the inside. The soldier next to the sniper was split in two as the concussive force blew open the vehicle, sending deadly armor plate outwards as shrapnel, which spelled ultimate doom for the unfortunate corporal next to him. The sniper himself was thrown a good ten feet to plow head-first into the mud, his rifle striking a tree some additional six feet in front of him, shattering the prized scope.

Following the explosion, only two others remained besides the sniper, and they fell swinging knives and empty rifles, dying as they were held down and insurgents stabbed them to death with everything they had. The ambush over, the insurgents picked over the dead and finished off the dying before looking for useful items. Unused grenades were quickly pocketed, as well as a few of the soldier's handguns and as much of the ammunition as they could carry. The rifles and empty magazines were left were they fell, as were the bodies of the soldiers, for they were of no use to the insurgents. Rank insignias from nearly all of the soldiers were cut from the uniforms to be added to the rows of matching symbols on the insurgents' clothing, like the kills on a fighter jet. The victorious ambushers picked up their own dead and made one last sweep of the area before heading for their hidden base deep within the Marsh.

Lying face-down in the mud in the pouring rain, the sniper's body shuddered from the cold. He rolled over, wiping the black mud from his eyes and lying on his back. It was quiet, too quiet, and he ceased all other movements before he was sure he was alone, or at least armed. Groping for his sidearm, he found it missing, looted from him as he lay unconscious. His knife, taped to the side of his left boot, which had been buried in mud, was still intact. His most precious possession, however, was missing. Then, he saw it, lying at the base of a tree. His rifle, the one thing that gave him hope. The scope was ruined, but that didn't make it any less useful. Carefully he unscrewed the knurled knobs and removed the broken optic from the top of the rifle. It had iron sights, and those would work for now.

The sniper slowly picked his way across the battleground to the Bradley, looking for a communication system and found none, instead finding a place moderately dry for him to bed down for a moment. He lay the rifle across his lap and rested his back against the cold metal. The helmet was long gone, but he didn't care. He felt extremely tired for some reason, and he soon drifted off into the dreamless sleep of the exhausted...

To the Argonian Government:

The Republic Of Colstream Government would like to help but first can we have background information on how this situation came about. We can then discuss what you require to help defeat these insurgents. Also we would like to know if the Sniper-Sargeant was rescued so we can see where the situation stands.

Best Regards: Republic Of Colstream

Bynamar would like to assist you in this conflict.
we will supply you with 2,000 Ghost Recon soldiers to perform sting operations and ambush the enemy. We also can supply 20 B-50 bombers, 50 Mig 29's and 30 F-22's. Our soldiers have M4's with attached grenade launchers.

The offices of the Commonwealth MFA was, as usual, a hive of activity. Thousands of reports of every occcurence from around the world, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Thousands of low ranking agents would look through them, deciding which to present to their superiours, those men would filter them by immportance for the higher up and they, in turn, decided which matters to bother the minister with.
A hundred or so reports were placed on the desk, along with a cup of coffee, as soon as teh minister left the elevator. This part of the building was much calmer, though it still had numerous men and women walking around. A soldier in dress uniform snapped to attention as the minister passed, the BOR officers were less prone to such acts.
The minister sat himslef in his leather chair, took a sip of coffee and reached for the first report in the pile, before snapping his hand back as another folder hit the desk.

-'What's this.'
He asked man responsibly and began going through the file. His chief secretary answered as he usualy did;
- 'Important. '
- 'Technophobes killing governmental troops in a country whose name I probably can't pronounce properly. I also doubt that instability their would damage our situation.' - He eyed his sevretary, - 'Why am I to be interested with it.?'
- 'Corporations "Kalinka" and "Tzerwone Lato" have made big investments there. As they deal mostly in information technology these "Anti-Modernists" are not very friendly to them. They want the government to intervene.'

The minister scowled, "figures". Out loud he said,
- 'Why don't they use their non-existing private armies to solve the matter?'
- 'They treid.'

The ministers scowl deepened,
- 'I understand that they already informed the media about the death of commonwealth citizens.'
It was a statement not a question.
- 'Well, I was soppused to meet the prime-minister anyway.'

To: The Argonian Government.
From: The Commonwealth of Alsdair.

Greetings. It is in our countries interest to see peace restored to the area. As such we are willing to dispatch a military contigent to enforce peace in your country as well as provide other aid as nescessary. As a guest we would, of-course, respect your nations authority in the area. We would, however, require the infrastructure to set up an effective logistics center and a level of autonomy in our operations.

TO: Argonian Elder Council,
From: The Militarized Zone Operating Council,
General Ian Hardcastle Presiding

The TMZ intellengence division has recieved information that may lead many in the Fatal Terrain region to believe that your nation is on the verge of invasion by nations outside the region. Namely the Commonwealth of Alsdair has a approached your government claiming interest in Argonia, and desireing to set up a military force with in your nation.

I have personally spoken to HM Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx of Tanaara concerning the ongoing problem within your nation and external offers.

We, as native members of the Fatal Terrain region, would extend this offer of all necessary troops and materiels needed to quell the insurgency. Additionally further medical and educational materiials, as Tanaara has supplied in the past to your nation.

I am also authorized to offer the services of Lord Daveed Aerial Roth, whom is well known to many within your nation, as a mediator between the two factions.

Please also be advised that I am contacting both First Speaker Cara Rydell of Imitora and HIM Emperess Aeris Greewood of Tarlachia concerning these offers.

Sincerely,

Ian Hardcastle

"Good morning Gustavo." commented the elven woman as she strode through the doors of her office, directly into the sunlight pouring through the large, ornately designed eastern windows. She approached her desk, keyed a button and sat down to observe the holographic screen that appeared. Across from her, standing respectfully facing forward, stood her intelligence liaison, a human of Raxhun lineage who stood at six foot four with a muscular physique that seemed to come naturally to his people.

"My lady, a good morning indeed, save for some recent news that happened yesterday." Gustavo replied with a customary bow with his head. He watched as her interest was piqued before continuing, "We've received information from regional intelligence communities that Argonia is experiencing another surge of violent attacks from it's own people. Additionally, it appears that this time, nations outside the region are taking interest, perhaps too much interest in what would otherwise be a local, and at most, a regional situation to be dealt with."

"I see. Let's see what you've got." Aeris instructed, watching as Gustavo inserted a laser drive that emerged from a bracelet on Gustavo's wrist. The holographic screen changed to three dimensional display, showing Argonian marshlands overlayed with technical information indicating the latest insurgency conflict. Gustavo gave her a rundown on this, and then slid a piece of paper across her desk to her, an intercepted message that bore the Alsdair deal to the Argonians. This she read quickly before leaning back and looking out the window for a moment as a pair of birds landed on the sill and twittered to each other. She could understand what they were saying for the gift of knowledge multiple languages across a variety of species was something unique to her people. These birds, this morning, were arguing about indigestion as a result of that morning's meal of worms. She gave a slight smile before turning back.

"All right, let's keep an eye on this situation. I'm wary about this Alsdair deal, so, let's inform the Argonians we're here for them as long time trusted friends and allies."


TO: Argonian Elder Council
FROM: Empress Aeris Greenwood; Empire of Tarlachia
SUBJECT: Regarding local insurgencies and foreign influence

It has come to my attention as of late the yet again increase in insurgent activity within the borders of your nation. While this in itself isn't an issue of terrible importance, what does concern me is the recent offer of "aid" from nations not of this region, in particular the Commonwealth of Alsdair. I am distrusting of their intentions, as it does appear they want a foothold in this region. I would strongly suggest you carefully review the aforementioned offer, but after reading this.

Our recent activities in our political scope have been quiet as of late, and a blessing it has been, especially in regards to the Dark War that so devastated my nation seven years ago. Only now, we are just achieving 100% national rebuilding completion. As you may be aware, we have also managed to successfully quell the various uprisings that resulted during this time. A strong leadership is required in times of turmoil, which brings me to my next point.

Your nation is under the control of the wise council of elders, and as longtime friends and allies, I would like to offer my assistance as you need to settle the issue regarding Alsdair. In addition, I have in reserve several hundred thousand soldiers of the united Raxhun clans, currently headed by Chieftain Rikan Tansho, all under voluntary military service, and all capable of marshland combat. These soldiers are at your disposal, should you wish. You will find them quite useful as they are familiar with modern, and premodern styles of combat. Should you accept this offer, I will direct that they will be under the command of your officers until the Council deems their presence is no longer needed.

Best wishes,

Empress Greenwood

Ryan felt odd, brushing off his shoulder boards on the Imitoran Navy's Commisioned Officer uniform. He had spent the majority of his life wearing the same uniform profered by the Army, but at the recent reorganization of the special warfare community, he found himself no longer a Master Chief of the Imitoran Army, but that of the Imitoran Navy. Well, the only difference was the replacing of green cloth with white, and a blue stripe with a gold one.

He sat at a rather stiff attention, another odd thing for him. In his time in IMSPECWAR, he was part of the Army's branch, the 1st Special Forces Group-Special Operations Applications Detachment. At that time, he was very much like the British SAS and US Army Delta. Relaxed dress, long hair, bit scragly in the face. Now he was clean cut, sitting with a rigid back, and waiting for his cue.

A head popped out into the hallway, a slight nod, and he was on. Standing, he made his way into the small room off to the side, and stood at further attention at the end of a long table. A holographic image floated above it, displaying key points and terrain features of the Argonian marshes, as well as images of battle recently picked up from news stations.

The man who had let Ryan in spoke clearly. "Master Chief Petty Officer Ryan Fortier, IMSPECWAR, Spartan Group Sierra."

Cara's voice was soft, accepting, and had an air of gratitude in it. Of course, she owed Ryan at least that much. "Please, Master Chief, have a seat."

Ryan did so, adjusting his descent so that his side arm, a personalized 1911 frame made by IMI's master weapons smith. "Thank you Madame First Speaker," Ryan replied, eyes quickly moving to the map.

"My please Master Chief. We were discussing the current situation in Argonia, as well as regional responses. The usual have arived. The Tanaarans want to talk it out, the Tarlachians want to go punch people, and we, well, thats why we called you in."

The map disapeared, as did the images of battle, and floating in front of each person in the room was a solid image of three comuniqués. One was from The Commonwealth of Alsdair, one from the Tanaarans, and one from the Tarlachians. It had been of little difficulty to intercept the Alsdarian and Tarlachian comuniqués, and the Tanaarans had copied in just about everyone on thiers.

"Regionalists," one of the men at the table chuffed. "They make issolationists look sane."

A small chuckle reverberated through the room, and Cara simply waited till it subsided to speak.

"Gentlemen, what we have is a brewing situation on hand that could spiral out of control on many a front. The Argonians have been fighting anti-Modernists for quite some time now, and the Ryan here has even been there on both a combat and advisory role. What we are seeing is not so much a failure to act, but a failure to act decisively. Of course, we have already in many ways offered vocal support and extended a hand of military assistance to the Argonians."

"However," she continued, "what we see is an almost dangerous trend forming, of shuting down extra regional assistance in conflicts and closing ourselves off to the rest of the world. I personally welcome the assitance of the Alsdairans. We don't grow from shutting ourselves down to the rest of the world, we grow by opening it."

At this point, another voice, belonging to a male, began a monologue. The voice, belonging to Flag Admiral Tohmas Dodge, was not quite booming, but definately authoratative.

"The Joint Chiefs have been looking over this conflict for quite some time. We have spent time with the Argonians working with them on Counter Revolutionary Warfare tactics, spending time out in the marshes, cross training, and the like. However, we are starting to feel this conflict is leaning towards drawing itself out to a dangerous length. We feel it is the Vietnam issue, the refusal to do what it would really take to end the conflict now. Of course, it seems that the Argonians don't seem to want to simply raze the marshes or calling in heavy bombing operations. We won't be the ones to tell the Argonians how to fight thier own war.

"However, it should be clear at this time that the presence of outside forces, outside even our regional operations, would be most welcome by Imitorans in assistance to end the fight. Until we get the word from the Argonians that they want us to dedicate our full forces to help in ending the rebelion, we'll stay at small scale operations and agree that extra regional forces are well within their right to simply offer help as we have."

Cara nodded. "The Fleet Admiral has made an excellent point. Therefore, I just wanted to let you know that we will be releasing an open statement later today to all parties involved regarding the Alsdairian involvement. However, as per the request of our Military Command, I've invited Master Chief Fortier here to come speak with us about certain concerns."

Ryan stood, and took a pull from a glass of water to wet his throat. "The concern issued is that we may face a possible forcable push into Argonian land by outside nations, regardless of regional standing or alliance, should assistance be refused. An intelligence overview as deemed the Alsdairians of little in the way of a threat. However, I feel that we should still have some actual ground pounder forces ready to rock and roll should we have any incursions. I've been looking over the marsh land and surrounding areas in plan for a possible shunt force.

"With that, I've had my own group go on QRF standing. We just finished a decent sized operation in Southern Imitora, and I want to have my men get a breather. However, I have spoken with ONI and their operation command structure, and we will be propositioning to have Group Valkrie and possibly Group Omega on full combat stand by."

Dodge nodded. "Don't bother, I'll go ahead and have the orders issued as soon as we are done here, cut through the red tape of a force authorization."

Ryan responded with his own nod. "Excellent. Now, I'd also like to go ahead and say we should also have the 105th on full ready standing."

Dodge nodded in return. "Two groups of the 105th have just come back from thier own jungle and marsh operations training down outside of Tsoten. They'll be on ready in the next two days."

"Excellent then," Rydell spoke. "Anything else?"

A resounding "no ma'am", and the meeting was adjurned.
____


To all parties concerned in the matter of the Argonian Revolution,

We have been monitering this situation as long as all others have, but yet notice what we consider an unfortunate trend. Recent communications from The Militarized Zone and the Tarlachians have shown that they are unwilling to allow a non regional nation to take a step in ending the conflict that has been undertaken by the Argonian forces.

We would like to voice our support of any nation that is willing to lend their forces in hand to end the conflict at hand. After all, is it not the greatest sacrifice to put your life on the line for others? Have not the greatest wars in our history been won not by one or two nations, but a coalition of nations from many regions and many backgrounds, working towards a common goal?

However, we ourselves have oft been the focus of conflict, and will willing engage ourselves in battle, regardless of the support we do or donot recieve. It is in that light that the High Republic of Imitora is voicing its support to aide the Argonians in whatever way the accept our aide. Further, we are in support of the Argonian government's choice of accepting or not accepting any outside help.

In officiality, we here by support the Argonian Government and its forces in the conflict against rebelion forces, and support their choices in fighting said conflict. Should they choose to allow outisde help from any nation, regardless of regional standing, we will work in conjunction with them in order to end the conflict.

Respectfully,

First Speaker Cara Rydell
High Republic of Imitora

With support of the Imitoran Military Command
Fleet Admiral Tohmas Dodge, Imitoran Navy
General, Four Star, Kevin Westerland, Imitoran Marine Corps
General, Four Star, Michael Love, Imitoran Army
Marshall Allen Stone, Imitoran Air Force
General Avery Johnston, IMC, IMSOCOM
Low Admiral Melissa Keyes, IN, IMSPECWAR
Rachelle Decker, Office of Naval Intelligence

"General Hardcatle is not the type to be alamrist and our own sources are giving us the same information. More attempts at intrusions in the name of corporate interests." HRH Crown Prince Robert Ryan Fortier looked at his mother as she viewed the holoraphically presented report.

"We've always tried to respect their hands off attitude about military aid, but I think it's time we stepped up with that offer again. Let Ian know that we're going to be shipping them more medical and educational aid. I've already budgeted for that, but I'm going to tap our 'Unexpected Incidents' account and offer, more forcefully now, military aid."

"Agreed, mom." Robert nodded and made a quick note for later transcription. "I really don't like the thought of non regional interests getting any foothold in Fatal Terrain!" He'd also speak to his Lady Aeris when he went home for the night. He and the Tarlachian Empress had a most mobile household. With technology and magery making long distance travel the stuff of moments the couple spent a month living in Tarlachia and Rob commuting each day, and then a month in Tanaara with Aeris doing the travelling.

"Hmmm, I've had a thought I'm going to send David and Lady Tanis back down there. He's spend a lot of time with them and as a Tenerezu has unique abilities and insights" HM Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx tabbed off the holograph and sat back in her comfortable chair.

Rob brightened. He was close friends with the tall Psionic who had become one of Tanaara's best unofficial ambassadors. "Excellent idea."

Hours later formal communications went out to The Militarized Zone, and the Agronian Elders Council.

HM Queen Mercedez thought she would have a quiet evening alone. The alone was as always, but the quiet was not to be as she fumed at the information she recieverd from TMI concering the Imitoran stance on the issue. "Great they want the region to be come battleground for imperialistic nations. How I loathe that woman. Doesn't she know there is a difference betwen assistance and invasion, and the the Commonwealth of Alsdair's communique conatains too many targeted words for any one to be comfortable with their intentions?" Though it was unknown of outside the inner most circles Mercedez detested the Imitoran First Speaker with a passion that was only exceeded by that held for her long time enemy Baroness Chantal D' Racul. With each woman her dislike was both personal and professional.