NationStates Jolt Archive


Taste of Ashes (MT, Semi-Open, ATTN Alacea)

Tolvan
21-10-2007, 07:27
OOC: This is a semi-open RP, feel free to post official statements and what not but any troop deployments or other armed actions require approval from me or Alacea.

Haladi Refugee Camp, Baridan Island, Tolvanic Mauritan Islands
October 21st, 2007
0515 hours

Captain Muhammad Yassim was thirty-three and was head of the Haladi Camp Police’s Ninth Precinct. He’d joined the force after spending four years in the Tolvanic Army as an MP. This made him an especially unpopular man in the overcrowded camp of nearly one million mostly Arab Muslims who were granted refugee status to flee the various wars of their homelands. Despite being given respite the refugees were not fond of the Tolvanic government and were even less fond of the Camp Police who were tasked with policing the sprawling settlement.

No doubt he would be even less popular after today when the City Administration publicly announced a 10% increase in the cost of electricity and the trimming of the weekly bean rations from three kilos per person to two and a half.

But to Yassim even that was generous, after all most of these refugees had never and would never contribute anything productive to Tolvanic society. Though he was an Arab and a nominal Muslim he much preferred life outside the Camp and was looking forward to his interview next month with the Voi Police Department for a spot on their vaunted SWAT Team.

Haladi Refugee Camp Administration Building
October 21st, 2007
0730 hours

Morgan Reynolds sat his desk reading emails and signing papers, the way most of his days started. Reynolds was the Haladi Special Refugee District Administrator, a job that sounded far more important than it actually was, and a graduate of the University of Christdown’s International Development Program. He was also one of the rarest of all things in Tolvan, a liberal. Reynolds owed his job to two simple reasons one that no one else really wanted it and two that his uncle happened to be Commerce Minister Roger Burke himself. In most nations cries of nepotism would be raised if the twenty-eight year old nephew of a powerful politician was given such a job, but in Tolvan nobody really cared about the refugee camp or its inhabitants and such cared even less who ran the place. Besides, he was qualified enough and enemies of Roger Burke rarely fared very well in the long run.

He wasn’t happy about the proposed ration cuts and price increases, but his arguments to members of Parliament, the Prime Minster, and even his uncle had fallen on deaf ears, he only hoped that this wasn’t the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

Haladi Refugee Camp, Q Block, Building 049
October 23rd, 2007
1345 hours

Captain Yassim climbed out of his Land Stalker dressed in full combat gear, the Camp Police never ventured into the slums without it anymore. Yassim was accompanied by eleven of his men and two more SUVs. Their mission was simple but still very dangerous, to remove several banners announcing protest rallies against the latest rounds of cuts to the Camp’s supplies. Yassim knew the banners were the work a shadowy group known as al-Qus, who extolled a radical and violent version of Islam and whose leaders had urged armed revolt before.
Fifteen minutes later the banners had been taken down with no signs of trouble just as Yassim was opening his door to get back in the truck a shot rang out and one of his men fell to the ground clutching his thigh.

“Sniper, left side high,” he screamed as he brought his MP-6 up to his shoulder and fired a half dozen rounds in the most likely sniper nest he saw. He doubted the 9mm rounds would have effect at this range but it was better than nothing.

Suddenly the building and alleys all around them came alive with gunfire. Yassim watched helplessly as six of his men were down within seconds. Yassim was brave man and a good soldier but he wasn’t suicidal.

He dove into the truck and yelled into his radio, “Everybody mount the fuck up and get out of here.”

The small convoy had made it almost out of the Block when the distinctive smoke trail of an RPG appeared from a nearby rooftop. Yassim didn’t even have time to yell before the rear SUV and two more of his men were vaporized. Yassim leaned out the window and emptied an entire magazine into the building where the rocket had been fired from. One of his men in the other surviving SUV fired a CS gas grenade into a nearby crown of bystanders and fired into the running mass cutting down several.

Fortunately the rest of the way out was less eventful and Yassim’s patrol, now minus one SUV and eight men pulled into the gates of the Ninth Precinct just ten minutes of the very angry, and very well armed, mob.

***********************************************

In the twenty four hours that followed the attack, now know as the Battle of Block Q, angry mobs of protestors, led by well armed bands of al-Qus militiamen, attacked patrols all over the city and besieged all fifteen precincts of the Camp Police. By the end of the day the Camp Police had lost nearly sixty percent of its manpower to casualties and desertions and was no longer capable of defended its own precincts, let alone policing the Camp. The Camp Police withdrew from the city at 0430 hours on October 25th, as the demoralized officers left the city they could only watch as columns of National Guard units rolled towards the city to establish a cordon and await orders from the Prime Minister.
Alacea
22-10-2007, 21:42
OOC: Sorry for the short post, but there's not too much else to say for now...

Being Gordon Barkove's Deputy President was usually a very quiet job. Cynthia Bullock never had to handle anything beyond attending a ceremony or cutting some ribbon at an opening. She sat sleepily at her desk with a game of Sudoku, when her secretary, Miranda Watkins walked in. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Miss, it seems that the Tolvanics have had some problems with an internal group of muslim refugees."

"And? I don't see why Tolvan can't handle a few towel heads on their own."

"Very well. But, so you do know, a group of them serve as a cheap labor source for several companies."

"Have Tellico send our condolenses then." The stout servant was off, muttering something about laziness.

---

http://i151.photobucket.com/albums/s126/Alacea/alaceacoa.jpg



Official Imperial Communiqué

The Sovereign Empire of Alacea

To: Tolvan
From: Department of Foreign Affairs

The Alacean empire offers its sorrow for those lost in the rebellions of the same people you welcomed into your home. If there is anyway we can help your cause, please do not hesitate to ask.

Thank You,

Joseph Tellico
Department of Foreign Affairs
Tolvan
26-10-2007, 04:53
25 Dowley Street, Brayton, Tolvan

Prime Minister Tyler Hutchins had just left a rather tedious Parliament meeting regarding agricultural subsidies when he received word of the uprising in Haladi. Naturally this news was less than thrilling to the Prime Minister, he’d opposed granting the refugees asylum anyway, but his predecessor had caved to the pressure of the Progressive Party on that issue, not that they were much of an issue these days anyway.

He turned to a nearby aide, “Get General Chang in my office in five minutes!”

And with that he was gone.

Haladi Refugee Camp Administration Center

Administrator Reynolds was a most unhappy man at the present. First the entire Camp had gone to Hell and a mass revolt was in progress. Then the National Guard and the surviving Camp Police had blockaded the Camp, cutting off supply shipments, telephones, the Internet, and even the power. Now, some pompous General had taken over his office and was talking of sending in troops to quell the uprising by force. None of these things were especially pleasing to him.

Major General Barry Church was an equally unhappy man and the source of his unhappiness was twofold. First a bunch of ungrateful refugees that his nation had welcomed to its soil were revolting and second he had been lectured for nearly six hours by the pompous Camp Administrator on why his plan was wrong. Church didn’t give a shit what the annoying little man who ran this place thought and had told him directly no less than eight times in the last few hours but still he persisted.

Now that he was finally alone with his officers they could review the plan one final time.

Major Nathan Starks, his Operations Chief, powered up the computerized slide show nd began the briefing.

The first slide was a list of units available for the mission.

“As you can see the 37th and 43rd Infantry Brigades along with the 93rd and 108th Military Police Brigades have established a cordon around the entire Camp at present. These units are of course drawn from local National Guard garrisons and are under National control for the duration of the crisis.”

“As far as units available for the actual move into the city we have the 5th Motorised Infantry Division, the 18th Light Mechanized Infantry Division, and the 23rd Armoured Brigade, detached from the 6th Armoured Division. Additionally, the 2nd Combat Engineer Brigade, 7th Military Police Brigade, 61st Civil Affairs Battalion, and 93rd Psychological Operation Battalion have been deployed to the area. All units are reporting to IV Corps, Major General Church, commanding.”
The briefing went on long into the night as Stark and the other staff officers went over maps, routes, known rebel strongholds and force dispositions, and logistical concerns.

No one knew for sure when H Hour would arrive, but they were ready nonetheless.

***COMMUNIQUE TO ALACEA***

I regret the brevity of this message but the situation remains most unclear at this time and things are quite hectic as you can imagine.

The Commonwealth thanks your great nation for its support and is most fortunate to have allies as strong as you in this most trying hour.

Tyler Hutchins
Prime Minister
Commonwealth of Tolvan


OOC: I should have a post detailing the move into the city and attack up either Friday of Saturday.
Tolvan
29-10-2007, 05:12
Assembly Point X-Ray, Six Kilometers Southeast of the Haladi Refugee Camp
H-Hour minus-1

Colonel Don Takasi stood outside the 12th Infantry Brigade (Motorised) TOC (Tactical Operations Center) and sipped his fifth cup of tea of the day, it was only 0345. Takasi was eighteen year veteran of the Tolvanic Army and a veteran of a few peacekeeping and humanitarian missions, but so far had never seen any actual combat. The fact that his first taste of battle would come on his nation’s own soil was not particularly pleasing to him but someone had to put this fucking raghead troublemakers in their place, lest they drag the rest of Tolvan into the same state of ignorance and poverty that they long ago brought on their own nations.

The 12th Brigade was part of the 5th Motorised Division and would be the first major combat unit to enter the city, only a few special ops teams would precede them and his staff was expecting a warm welcome from the insurgents in the city.

He didn’t expect anything too hairy, the insurgents only had a few obsolete RPGs left, they’d been firing them at the police and National Guard on the perimeter for three days now and had to be running low. While they had plenty of small arms and few light machine guns, plus large quantities of Molotovs, pipe bombs, and other IEDs, they had little that could hurt a MAVW (Medium Armoured Vehicle, Wheeled) or MAVT (Medium Armoured Vehicle, Tracked) let alone a Hellhound MBT or Hellcat IFV, but he didn’t expect them to roll over either.

The next few days were sure to be fun.

OOC: I am not actually racist.

I will most more on the crackdown and terror attacks in the coming days.
Tolvan
01-11-2007, 05:02
Checkpoint Arrow, 2.5 km southeast of Haladi Refugee Camp

The lead Tolvanic unit moving into the camp was a mechanized infantry team from the 23rd Armoured Brigade. The team’s ten Hellcat IFVs were backed by four Hellhound II MBTs and a full platoon of combat engineers mounted in M206 Engineer Support Vehicles (ESVs) and a single Rhino CEV.

The armoured column had just passed the last National Guard checkpoint and was entering the city when the first IED went off. The insurgents had buried three propane tanks full of diesel and wired them with a few sticks of dynamite and a blasting cap. The resulting explosion was loud and smoky but barely charred the thick skinned vehicles. The primary result of the blast was to cause the lead infantry platoon’s tracks to open fire into several nearby buildings. The stone and cinderblock houses were turned to dust by the powerful 35mm HE rounds within seconds. A few seconds later the tanks got into the mix and several more buildings were pounded.

By now the insurgents were reacting, automatic weapon fire and a few RPGs sailed their way, but most missed by a wide margin. A few braze fighters darted out of alleys and ditched to throw Molotovs or grenades but were usually killed for their gallantry.

All over the city similar scenes were unfolding as columns of armoured vehicles backed by helicopter gunships and sniper teams began to systematically retake the camp block by block.

Tylen Industries, Lorica, Alacea

Ibrahim Hamwi was twenty-one years old. His family had settled in Tolvan when he was four years ago and were among the first inhabitants of the Haladi Refugee Camp. At seventeen he had joined the Tolvanic Army and spent two years as a combat engineer before going AWOL. He had gone underground and lived in the Camp ever since. Fortunately, the Tolvanic government put little effort into tracking him, deserters were rare and Hamwi hadn’t been a very good soldier anyway. After a year of working odd jobs for next to no pay he’d managed to land a spot in the Job Corps and been sent to Alacea. The Job Corps was bastard child of the Camp’s liberal administrators and the ubercapitalists at the Commerce Ministry. It provided jobs for the poor residents of the Camp and cheap labor for Tolvanic companies and its overseas allies. He’d been lured with promises of learning a trade, making some money, and seeing the world, kinda like the Army now that he thought about it, but in reality he was shipped off to Alacea to work in a factory making cutlery and paid 2.00 pounds per hour.

He’d read about the fighting back in the camp and seen footage of the burning buildings on the news and it’d filled him with rage. What’s worse the Alaceans not only ignored the carnage, they applauded it. If he couldn’t strike back at the Tolvans, he could certainly strike at the Alaceans.

It’d taken a couple days to make contact with members of al-Qus who worked in Alacea, but after mentioning his military background, a greatly embellished story of his skills and experience, he’d been invited to a meeting to plan operations against Alacea.

OOC: I’m working on exactly how to pull off the attack right now, trust me it’ll be big and deadly though.