NationStates Jolt Archive

They say our nation succumbed not from without, but from within. Each of us is far more the harbinger of survival and destruction of our state then is any outside force. In that sense, we are far more divine than any of us ever realize.

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“Major?”

“What is it, Bill?”

“Sir, are the reports true…New Eden. They say…”

“Yes, it’s true. Ten thousand executed and the town burnt to the ground. Sounds like something from the more barbarous epochs of antiquity doesn’t it?”

“Well, sir. What do I tell them?”

Major Jackson Shepherd looked up from the dimly lit map and turned to face his Chief of Operations, Captain William Avery. “Tell them the truth. It’s what we’re fighting for isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is sir. But how de we respond to this escalation? New Eden was one of our few safe sectors and now it’s gone. It’s going to handicap us for months, even years if we last that long.”

“I know, Captain. But there’s nothing we can do now. Tell your company commanders to pack things up and prepare to move. We’re overdue for a move.

“Right away, sir.”

After the Captain departed, Major Jackson took in the map covering their current location in the Valliancian Northern Frontier, a frigid and sparsely populated area. It was an ideal location to hide a Company but the destruction of New Eden now made the logistics of his survival all the more precarious. Such were the fortunes of his situation. Moving away from the table, the Major laid down upon his cot and closed his eyes briefly, slipping into his last remaining sanctuary: unconsciousness.

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They had been on exercise when it had happened. Ironic, even, that the deployment of the 1st Battalion, 4th Regiment, First Valliancian Combined Assault Corps had been deployed as a show of force to discourage the very rebellion they had now joined. It had happened so quickly; they had learned of the coup d’etat by the usual communications channels and had been so ordered by the new establishment to occupy the County of Eden. However, within days of establishing an outer perimeter centred on the town of New Eden the Major had received word of the death of his wife, executed as a rebel informant and spy. The newly formed Imperial Government, created by the usurping Imperial-Ultranational Front (IUF), had sent word for his imprisonment and return to the capital, Novus Libertas. As he was arrested, Captain Avery and a small vanguard ambushed the detainers and freed the Major. With a force of 120 men, the Major vanished into the hinterlands of the Northern Frontier. There they had established themselves and had found from the New Edeans support and supplies for their resistance. Some had even joined the Battalion’s ranks but now with the town’s destruction a serious blow had been dealt to Major Shepherd and his ‘phantom’ battalion. Someone in the Imperial Authority knew of them and knew of New Eden as a primary logistics centre. What was more likely, however, was that a traitor was in their midst.

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OOC: Okay, ideally what I want is a nation (or nations) to RP the supporter of the IUF and the Front itself (ie. Leaders, both civil and military). Also, I’d like a nation (or nations) to RP as the main ally of the resistance. At any rate, if you’re interested please TG me so we can discuss and outline plot and whatnot…feel free to make an intro post stipulating your role if one hasn’t already been made.

Generally, keep it modern tech but I figure that a certain degree of embellishment is okay.

Also, time frame from the seizing of power to ‘present’ is 3-4 weeks just to give the story a bit of scope.

A map is forthcoming and should be up in a roughly a day

Finally, hope you like my first RP:D

Players
IUF: Pan-Arab Barronia
Rebels: Valliance
Rebellion Supporters: Kaladria

*Bump*

“Yes? What do you have for us?”, the ghostly voice reverberated over the small satellite-radio receiver.

“Alpha Base, this is Stalker. I have word on our movement. We will be moving 25 kilometres north-east of our current position, into the mountains. Advise contact will not be possible for an unknown time. Known movement places us within your current perimeter.”

Nature, it seemed, still had the capacity to blunt man’s technological capabilities. The mountains of the Norther Frontier were laced with deposits of ferro-chromite and several other dense, magneto-alloys. These substances disrupted the radio’s carrier waves and broadcast tranciever, and by doing so rendered it unable to be carried and transmitted over the multitude of satellite communication networks held within Valliance.

“Understood. Hold for instruction.”

The line went dead for several moments, save the intermittent cracks of static from atmospheric anomalies.

“Stalker, you have verification Alpha Two Zero One. Repeat, verification code Alpha Two Zero One. Confirm last.”

“Understood, Alpha. I have confirmation Alpha Two Zero One. Will execute at next opportunity.”

“Roger your confirmation, Stalker. Pegasus Two-Five will meet you for extraction at R-V point Echo in one-eight hours. Good luck and Godspeed, Stalker. Alpha out.”

With that, the assassin unfastened a pocket on his camouflaged battle-dress tunic and placed the tiny device within. He didn’t bother to confirm the R-V point, he wasn’t going to be escaping anywhere. Fastening the button, he stepped outside and into the IUF-controlled First Assault Corps. It would be easy, as a Major he would be able to get right next to General Petrenko, the Corps commander. The Major's wife had died in the capital two weeks ago, executed as a spy, but the Major knew better. She was a grade-school teacher, not a spy but it did not matter: the I Corps threatened Major Shepherd and one of the few scattered units in the are capable of resisting the IUF. Never a believer, unlike the General, the Major now had ample reason to give himself to kill the General: his brothers in the mountains and the murder of his wife. He approached the command tent and the two soldiers snapped smartly to attention, saluting him. He returned the salute and briefly looked into the eyes of one, a woman…no, he thought, a girl. She barely looked to be out of high school, never mind in a front line combat unit. Still, he had a task to do.

Entering the tent he briefly surveyed those within. Good, the general, his second-in-command and their requisite aides. This would strike a very lasting blow at the I Corps. Approaching the general he withdrew a grenade from his pocket as the general’s eyes widened. His mouth opened as the Major pulled the safety pin and flicked off the safety lever. It was now the others in the small tent realized what was going on, but it was too late for them to do anything but stare in horror as the grenade cooked off.

Several seconds later, a loud crack and low rumble punctuated the encampment of the Valliancian First Assault Corps.

For now, the rebels would live to fight another day. The war had begun.

Valliancian News Wire Special Report

News anchor Tanya Macchino sat at the anchor desk of the Valliancian News Wire service, the nation’s oldest news channel. She shuffled the papers in front of her and then lifted her glance to match that of the centre camera, anticipating the red light telling her she was live. It winked into existence and she paused a moment.

“Good evening. This is the VNW Evening News; I am Tanya Macchino. Tonight’s top story involves a savage terrorist attack on our nation’s armed forces. For more on this breaking story we go to Tom Gura in the field…Tom?”

The camera shot changed from VNW studios in the capital to the Valliancian First Assault Corps encampment; in the foreground stood the VNW correspondent amidst a number of semi-permanent buildings and a telling waft of smoke from the grenade explosion.

“Thank you, Tanya. I’m here with the First Assault Corps in the Northern Frontier. While our location is classified, I can tell you that the Ministry of Defense has confirmed that the attack was planned and executed by terrorist elements operating within Valliancian borders. Also, the Ministry has released to us that among the 12 casualties was the First Corps Commander, General Petrenko. He was one of our nation’s most admired and decorated commanders and sources confirm that he will be awarded the Star of Valliance, our nation’s highest order, for his service. We have an interview for you with Colonel Johann Obermann, Chief of Staff to the General who was in Novus Libertas at the time of the attack.”

The picture cut from the fading light of dusk to the sunny vista of mid-day, featuring the correspondent and Colonel Obermann.

“Colonel, what can you tell us about the attack?”

“Very little, Tom. However, from what we have gathered so far it appears that a suicide bomber operating undercover as an officer was able to enter the command building and detonated an explosive device.”

“So Colonel, this attack was carried out by a suicide bomber. Does this un-conventional warfare add a new risk to your operations here.”

“Of course. However, we train our soldiers to deal with such threats and, as always, we will be taking every precaution to ensure the safety of our soldiers and the civilians that are in our area of operations. We are here to protect them, after all. I must excuse myself, there is much to be done.”

“Yes. Thank you, Colonel.”

The shot changed back to the dusk scene.

“I’m Tom Gura, VNW News. Tanya?”

“Thanks Tom. We now have public reaction to this attack from the streets of Novus Libertas.”

The shot cut to a businessman on the streets during mid-day.

“These people are savages. I, for one, think the government should do whatever it has to so these jackals may be brought to justice.”

The report then showed several similar reactions from others on the streets before snapping back to Tanya Macchino.

“Coming up next…”

The screen flicked off and the Chief Executive of VNW stood and strode to his window overlooking downtown Novus Libertas. Sighing, he turned to face his guest.

“Satisfied?”

His guest rose.

“Very. I assume the people weren’t too hard to persuade?”

“Not when money’s a factor, no.”

“Excellent. Your government appreciates your co-operation in this matter. I’ll be in touch.”

As the agent left his office, the executive slouched in his chair and stared at a portrait of his grandfather, a man of great principle who had distrusted the government in every step it took. Standing, he pulled the portrait down and stashed it in a corner. No, he wasn’t betraying his grandfather. He was helping Valliance, he was doing his duty.

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In the mountains of the Northern Frontier, Major Shepherd snapped off the broadcast.

"Well I'll be damned. We're terrorists now and a xenophobic racist is now to be regarded among the true heroes of our nation. What the hell is happening? Still, funny how they forgot to mention New Eden, eh Bill?"

"Yeah, sure is sir. Well at least we've got some breathing room now that I Corps is spluttering around with no head. Maybe we should start sending some people out, we don't know who else is out there?"

"You're right. Call a meeting, company commanders and ourselves in a half-hour. They're going to be coming after all of us after today and we need to be prepared."

Survival Bump

"Sir?"

"Come in, Commander. Sit down."

"Thankyou sir. May I ask why I've been summoned?"

"Actually, yes. What is our status on locating the rebel troops?"

"They weren't in Eden sir-"

"I know that, though their spies were all over."

"Of course, sir. For the good of the nation. However, any evidence we may have had was destroyed along with the General."

"Fine. Here are my orders. I want a dawn-dusk curfew in towns surrounding the area of Eden and the base camp. I want every soldier's background screened. I want those rebels found."

Much had Captain Avery sacrificed to join the VAF, and now much he was sacrificing to take part in the resistance. He was confident of the righteousness of his actions; the IUF had to be stopped and the merit of their cause outweighed the sum of the individual sacrifices made by the men and women fighting against the Imperialists. His faith in the resistance’s future had reason for growth; he had just met with several partisan leaders in the town of Ferra, a mid-sized market town 35 km south of what was once New Eden. The meeting had been successful and he had persuaded the groups, in total numbering nearly 500 persons, to come under command of the battalion (albeit a company-sized one) under Major Shepherd. Their addition would bring the battalion to numbers that actually made it worthy of its name, so to speak.

Presently, the Captain was walking alongside the town’s main thoroughfare and noticed a small IUF para-military patrol walking on the sidewalk in the opposite direction. In civilian attire, Avery looked no different than any other Ferran, perhaps somewhat bigger and leaner but wholly unremarkable. What did set the Captain apart, however, was the .45 Standard-Issue M6 Service Pistol holstered under his coat and the ID-tags that hung around his neck. As the patrol approached within 15 metres, they looked Avery over and one began to whisper a terse comment into the ear of the woman who appeared to be leading the patrol. She nodded and motioned for Avery to stop. Outgunned and outmatched, Avery had no choice but to comply. His mind raced as the group approached and his thoughts shifted to the pistol snuggly holstered against his left hip. These may only be thugs with a badge, his conscience reasoned, but those SMGs and standing in plain sight won’t help any. Hell, Bill, they’d have dropped you five times by the time you leveled your sights.

Avery sighed heavily, eliciting some empathy from the leader. She spoke: “Sir, I’m sorry but by orders of the government all civilians are to be indoors by 7:00 each evening. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.

Damn

“Really? Well I apologize officer, I just live up the road. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay sir. But make sure you get in before curfew. It would be…unpleasant for you were you to be out past curfew.”

“I understand ma’am. Have a good night.”

She nodded curtly and the patrol walked past him.

“Sir! Stop!”

Avery froze in place as the patrol commander called. Slowly he turned to face her, expecting to be met by shouldered machine guns but instead, with a sly grin, she handed him a piece of paper.

“You dropped this. Thought you might like it back.”

“Oh…well thank you.”

“No problem, hurry home.”

As the patrol walked off, Avery double-timed it to the nearest intersection and tucked the envelope inside his coat. That was close. Making it to the park on the edge of town, Avery concealed himself behind a rock and donned a large blanket, retrieving a small map and flashlight from his coat. Examining the document, Avery calculated he had a further 2km to walk through a forest to reach his extraction point. Not a long walk, but the whole area was probably buzzing with patrols given the new curfew. But, he was quite good at concealing himself. As he folded the blanket and placed it into his backpack a rifle butt swept across his field of vision and made contact with the side of his head. Avery’s vision exploded into a field of stars before he collapsed.

He awoke later and found himself bouncing in the back of a truck, sitting across from the woman he had encountered earlier.

“Thought we told you to go home? But then again,” she patted his pack and jacket containing a number of revealing documents, “maybe it was better you didn’t”

His look must have said what Avery could not.

“How did we know? Well look at this.”

She opened the envelope that Avery had ‘dropped’ earlier and removed a tiny transmitter. Avery’s heart sunk as his vision narrowed and he once again slipped into unconsciousness.

The local commander was pleased. First night of the curfew, and they had caught a high-ranking rebel! The IUF party leaders would be pleased.

The Interrogation would be well underway by now - with the new party came new techniques - waterboarding, electroshock treatment, and the general beatings. He would be sure to give up information soon enough. Now, however, he would file his report to his superiors, and get back to watching the screens.

The restraints were too tight, their circumference was many centimetres too small to encompass Avery's wrists yet somehow they had managed to bind him. Perhaps it was intentional so as to discourage any movement. Either way, the restraints cut into his wrist and produced a very acute, intense pain.

How long had he been here? It felt like hours, days even but by the moonlight entering his cell from the tiny window behind him he knew it had been scarcely more than an hour. That was one of the less obvious and more subtle uses of torture: to disorient and cause a feeling of helplessness. A smug sense of satisfaction creeped into Avery's thoughts for he hadn't broken and had rattled off the standard name, rank and service number to the impatience and anger of the para-military that had captured him. They said that would change.

A loud bang focused his thoughts and brought Avery out of his semi-meditative state. Meditation: it was something the instructors at the Valliance Special Forces School had taught its pupils during interrogation phase training: meditation and mental preparedness would do more to ward off torture and trickery than would physical strength. After all, the mind weakened faster than the body.

"So, you are A-"

"Avery, William, Captain, R45 445 743."

"Yes, yes I know Captain. However, you should know that you speak like a soldier and I assure you that you are not. You are an irregular, illegal combatant: a terrorist to use the more common term. This status opens a number of very...interesting choices for a man in my position, and a number of painful ones for the likes of you. For instance-"

The interrogator drew his sidearm and brought it to bear scant centimetres from the Captain's forehead.

"-I could execute you like the criminal you are and it would mean nothing. No one would know what had happened, no one would care. Procedure requires I report your capture to my divisional commander, and it is even quite likely that given your evident value you would be transported to the capital. However, we don't...I don't have that amount of time to waste. So, you will tell me where your compatriots are, their number and their plans. If you do not cooperate with me then things will get horribly unpleasant for you."

The interrogator, wearing what appeared to be the two-and-a-half bars of a Major, stared deep into Avery's eyes. Realizing his inevitable fate, Avery smirked and brought his gaze to match his captor's.

"Avery, William, Captain, R45 445 743."

The Major sighed, "Very well."

Bringing his pistol down, the Major depressed the trigger and sent a .45 hollow-point tearing through Avery's left knee-cap. Exiting at the back, the bullet tore out bits of ligament and bone before embedding itself in the thick metal of the chair. Avery let out a loud yelp and then a series of short, ragged breaths. Sweat began to pour down his face and back as the pain of the wound lanced all the way up his leg. Nodding to the soldier at the door, the Major left. Before crossing the threshold of the doorway, he turned, "I hope our next meeting is more productive."

The soldier closed the door behind him and walked over to Avery. Un-slinging his rifle, he drove the butt-stock of his rifle into Avery's side. Everything faded to black.

"So what're they up to now?"

"Hmm?"

"The rebels, the rebels. What in God's name are they up to?"

"Oh right, sorry."

Sergeant Jeremy Wanadoo, a sniper from the Valliancian 7th Reconnaissance Regiment, attached to the First Assault Corps, slowly lifted his sniper rifle. The powerful 7.62mm, bolt-action rifle had an effective range of up to, and slightly beyond 1 km and in the hands of a sniper, such as himself, it was a device more precise than a surgeon's scalpel. Furthermore, he and his spotter wore ghillie suits, camouflaged full-body suits designed to disrupt the shape of the wearer and allow it to blend with the surrounding environment. Peering through the rifle's powerful 10x scope, he slowly swept over the encampment and observed minimal activity; it was early and most of the residents were only just awaking.

"Activity's minimal."

Everything was silent. Slowly, Wanadoo lowered his rifle and turned. His spotter lay dead behind him and over the dead soldier stood a group of three similarly-garbed individuals. The one in front held a silenced pistol while one of to his left sheathed a bloodied knife. The Sergeant barely had the time to process the situation when the leader took aim at Wanadoo's forehead. The Sergeant saw a repressed flash, heard the pistol's bolt cycle back and then everything went black.

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"You sure that was necessary, L.T.?" commented Sergeant Choi. "I mean sir, we should've captured him and brought him in."

Turning slightly Lieutennant Hirsch replied, "What would he have known? Maybe something, probably nothing. You know how it is Sarge."

"Yeah, suppose I do. What now?"

"There's gotta be more out there. Call it in, either way we're compromised and I bet there's a whole mess of very anxious people waiting to bring our little party to an end. It also means we know exactly what happened to the Captain."

"Do you think he would break, sir?"

The officer winced and his sub-conscious triggered his left hand to cover his right, laced with electrical burns. "Everyone breaks, Sarge. It's always just a matter of time. Get that radio going."

"Right, sir."

((OOC: Valliance, check your Telegrams please.))

GRIFFITH-II was not in his office. He was in Greal negotiating with Peter Watson, who had 120,000,000,000 USD on his head after an attempted coup de'tat against the Greal Government, using the nation's 10-million man Secret Police as his force.

Either way, the order came from his PDA to begin Silent Imperialism on the state of Valliance. The civilian airliner mode of entry would be used this time.


AIRPORT, MAGNA POLIS-

Two Commercial 767s sat on two of the several runways at the International Airport in Magna Polis. But, these planes weren't being loaded with tourists. They were being loaded with one Company and a half each from the Special Tactics Force, and some support personnel. They were all wearing civilian clothing, and the planes had been scheduled to land at airports in both the Capital of Valliance, and an airport near New Eden. The Agents all had sunglasses, the ones heading to the colder areas wearing polarized glasses. The pilots, whom were part of the Grand World Order Air Force, quickly recieved permission to take off from the control tower, which also thought they were standard commercial flights. The planes took off, though minutes apart, and headed through the sky towards Valliance. It would be a multi-hour flight.

((OOC: Gotta go for the night.))

In a conference room high above the streets of Cascadia, capital city of the Dominion of Kaladria, a single television glowed in the dim light.

“I’m Tom Gura, VNW News. Tanya?”

Colonel Malcolm Anderson, head of the Kaladrian Central Intelligence, switched off the recording of the VNW broadcast.

"As you can see gentlemen, the situation is growing more volatile."

He turned, facing the others in the room. Seated around the conference table, the leaders of the Kaladrian Dominion glanced at one another, disturbed at what they had just seen. When they had first heard of the coup, they had decided to not concern themselves, taking a 'wait-and-see' stance. Now, whispers started to grow as they began talking amongst themselves, discussing the meaning of this new development.

Only one man didn't join the hushed and worried voices. Though unremarkable for the most part, with an trim build and dark brown hair going to gray at the temples, wearing a nondescript black military uniform, with no formal ranks or identification, he had an air of command about him, one which almost demanded both attention and obedience from those around him. Staring out the nearby window, his hazel eyes gazed into the dark and rainy twilight, as though seeing something that wasn't there, his thoughts unreadble.

After a few minutes, a sigh escaped him, and he turned to look at the other members of the council. Instantly, they fell silent, and looked at him, listening.

"Colonel Anderson, do you believe this could threaten our nation's interests and well-being, if the situation is not dealt with?"

The Colonel thought for a moment before answering.

"I believe so, Lord Marshal. The IUF is an extremely aggressive government. In time, it is very likely we would be drawn into conflict with them, especially over idealogical and political lines. And by that time, they would be a much greater threat, after they've cemented their rule."

Lord Marshal Alexander Barton nodded, a grim expression upon his face.

"Then we must act."

He looked to his right, at a man wearing a navy blue uniform, the emblem of an anchor within a star displayed prominently on his cap.

"What is our current force projection in the area, Sea Marshal Bennett?"

Sea Marshal Kyle Bennett frowned.

"We have one carrier group on standby in the vicinity. Also, we have the battleship Jericho on maneuvers not far off. She could join the Vanguard and its escorts within twelve hours."

He then glanced down at his notes.

"We also have a convoy heading out at 0200 hours to resupply the Jericho."

The Lord Marshal nodded.

"Good. I want another convoy readied to ship out at the same time. Load it with everything you might need to fight a small war. And issue orders to Omega Force to send a team along with. We may need to get our hands a little dirty, but, I wish to make it clear to all here, no one is to know of our involvement. We will support these rebels, but if at possible, we will avoid direct conflict with the new regime. The last thing we need is a war."

He gazed at each member in turn, his face as stern and hard as granite. The others around the table nodded in affirmation.

"Good. Now, on to other matters. What is the situation on our 'guests' aboard the Vanguard?"

The Sea Marshal slid a report to Alexander.

"Captain William Skyler. Formerly of the Valliance Air Command. Cited for bravery under fire by the nation's former government. 2 weeks after the coup, he lead his squadron on an flight exercise, and never reported back to his new superiors. Instead, they headed out to sea, and requested to defect to any non-IUF forces in the area. Luckily for him, we had the Vanguard nearby. At the moment, he and his squadron have been detained, while we been thinking on what to do with them."

Reading the report as Marshal Bennet spoke, Alexander Barton then gave a small nod as a smile, devoid of any humor crossed his face.

"I believe I know exactly what to do with them..."

The Airliners entered Valliance airspace and split further apart as to land at the target airfields. The people on board were half expecting a Valliance Fighter to intercept them and request identification. It was only a matter of time before they would start their operation...

OOC: Apologies - forgot about this. I'll get back on track, methinks - the DWV thing went way overboard and is done to heck anyway. Expect a post from me in the near future - I've got a presentation from work to make, so I don't have the time or perseverance to come up with long posts yet.