NationStates Jolt Archive

Al-Azar'Aha, Azaha

Typically, when a Doomani military force entered a Muslim country, it was decidedly not for peacefull purposes. Generally speaking, such an operation would result in a slaughter of untold proportions amongst the local population and enslavement of whomever survived. It was to the surprise of many already baffled international observers (upon first sighting aircraft bearing the infamous acronym 'ACID' soaring over Al-Azar'Aha) that all hell did not break loose when fully armed Legionaries began marching out of their transport aircraft at Al-Azar'Aha International Airport.

Dressed in their standard desert fatigues and LORICA armored vests and helmets, their faces concealed behind their armored NBC masks. Pouches stuffed with loaded magazines hung off their chests as they marched off in perfect formation with the machine-like precision that was often attributed to the Doomani Exercitus, their AVIR rifles at port arms, the steady, crisp thumping of their boots filling the air. It was not long before the roaring of diesel engines and the clanking of treads was heard; massive seventy-seven ton Imperator-II Arx main battle tanks slowly rolled off the ramps, carefully guided down by ACID loadmasters before driving over to their assigned assembly areas.

In a matter of hours, half a legion had formed up within the airport for inspection: the tanks and infantry fighting vehicles lined up in neat rows, their guns trained skyward. Infantry had formed up robot-like in large sturdy blocks, the sun beating down on them. Orders were barked out in Latin over loud speakers, and it was not long before the Crusader's Death's Head flew triumphantly over the airport without a single shot being fired. After some six hours, the entire legion had finished unloading, a ring of air defenses and machinegun nests had been established around the airport. At this point, fighter aircraft had begun touching down, taxiing off into their various assigned hangers where their ground crews had already set up shop. More forces were en route; other legions had been assigned to other cities, and out in the desert, Imperial sappers had commenced the construction of air strips where even more troops would be able to be deployed.

The entirety of Signum VI, the Sixth Army, would be deploying to Azaha via Space Union and Kampferian territory in the coming week.

Further baffling to foreigners that watched the scene was the reaction of the local Azahans: rather than seeking cover, fleeing in terror, or opening fire, they instead lined the streets waving Azahan and Doomani flags, cheering on as the first Imperator-II Arx tanks rolled down the capital's main street. It was a strange sight to behold: Columns of Legionaries marching in their typically robotic manner past Mosques without razing them to the ground and defiling them in every imaginable way.

Legatus Propraetorius Lucius Curtius Nerva, commander-in-chief of Signum VI, at the head of the parade, shared his staff car with a number of extremely high ranking Azahan Army officers as he made his way to the Raj's Palace where the Prince was waiting for him. The Azahan ACIF had in fact made a deal with the Doomani; in exchange for propping up the Prince as the new Raj of Azaha, Imperator Maximus III would effectively be in control of the country and Azaha would become what was essentially a vassal state of the Imperium Doomanum.

As the car pulled up to the massive stairway that lead up to the opening of the grand palace, the newly appointed Raj strode out of the gaping maw that was his new front door. He was already adorned in in the ceremonial flowing royal gown, the long dark yellow flowing cape trailing behind him, heavy linen refusing to flow with the wind.

Lining the stairway already was atleast a company of Azahan troops, themselves in two perfect lines along the stairs. They wore their own ceremonial dress. Dark yellow jackets, with red trim. Black sashes were draped across their shoulders, signifying their unit status as Azahan Special Combat operators, the Doom-Azaha equivalent to the Royal Azahan Marines of the former Raj.

For every step down the stairs, the two respective soldiers snapped their weapons from order-arms to present-arms. They used as much arm flare and dazzle as possible, but still maintaining precision and timing. The heavy wood and steel drill rifles that they were throwing about were a testament to the soldier's dedication to precision and skill.

But one could not forget the unpresidented security needed for such an event. Within balconies of surrounding buildings, roofs, and even the pillars of the Azahan palace, stood on watch soldiers in guardian angel positions. They themselves were armed with Doomani made sniper rifles, assault rifles, and crew-served weapons. A few blocks away, a Azahan piloted ACI-37 banked away from the palace, as it scanned the streets for possible trouble spots, as there had been isolated incidents.

The car pulled up, as soon as the Raj made his last step down the stairs. Seemingly out of nowhere, four men dressed in what seemd to be valet uniforms swarmed the car. Opening the doors, they stepped out of the way, and bowed deeply, greeting all occupants.

"Greetings gentlemen. So glad you could join me, at my humble abode." His arabic was smooth and drawling. He smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the sun, the madness in his eyes but a twinkle in the midday heat.

OOC: I'm trying to find some Haven RPs to get into, to make my mark but I am having trouble finding them. This one came up so I hope it is alright that I am posting.

The Tnemration government has never been one to intrude upon the inner dealings of another nation, regardless of the situation, unless it meant immediate and direct harm to the sovereignty of our great nation. The Tnemration government considers the Doomani state to be a neutral, if not friendly state towards our government, despite our political and ideological differences. Because of this, we don't necessarily see this event as something we should be pressed to worry about but the Tnemration government must have the assurances from the Doomani government that this sort of event is an isolated incident and not a future endeavor against the Tnemration government and people.

Nerva was elegantly clad in the crisp tan summer dress uniform of the Exercitus, one they were authorized to wear year round when stationed in desert theatres such as Doomanum or Azaha. His shoulder boards were plastered in gold wreathing, the insignia of a Legatus, while his high collar bore the Crusader's Death's Head on his right side, a uniform device worn only by members of the Exercitus (Doomani military personnel from other services would have the Aquila in its place), and a golden Labarum on the left. His neatly trimmed greying hair was concealed beneath a black militia cap, the center of which was adorned with another Crusader's Death's Head. His chest was covered in dozens of medals and ribbons, including the Imperium's highest award, the Heros Imperatoria, Hero of the Imperium. Right off the bat, the Raj would see that the Doomani had not sent him a pushover. Clearly Nerva had done more than his fair share of killing and conquering.

He was a man of average stature by Doomani standards: a poultry 6'2" with an athletic build and skin that was perhaps a few shades lighter than his Azahan hosts (which considering how dark they were was fairly tan). His aged yet handsome face conveyed a certain authority; a vicious scar ran down between his eyes, across his Roman nose, something he'd recieved many years before from a Questarian officer (whom he had proceeded to disembowel) in some godforsaken cave in Damnatium. His piercing brown eyes were concealed behind a pair of gold-framed aviator sunglasses, the preferred eyeware of just about every Doomani officer (to the point where most people would consider it a cliche), and the exeedingly bright sun glistened off of their mirrored lenses brilliantly.

Stepping out of the car, he strode toward the Raj in a soldierly manner before haulting and snapping a crisp Doomani horizontal stiff arm salute.

"The pleasure is all ours, Your Majesty," Nerva responded in accented Arabic.

Behind him, a cohort of Doomani infantry (http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/3293/doomdesertffpd8.png), their AVIR rifles and ADEC machineguns slung over their shoulders goose-stepped down the dusty street, their heads cocked towards the leaders as they snapped their own salutes en masse marching by.

An Beannaight Cré na hNuá Fíor Croise (TNTC) is in full support of the actions taken in support of the new Raj in Azaha. The dar al-Islam is lucky to have a such a capable man such as he at the command of one of its nations. If there is anything the NFC can do to help, please let us know.

The Raj executed a kurt bow. Behind him the soldiers lining the stairway snapped back to order arms with a loud clack. "Of course, Legatus Propraetoris." He seemed to have trouble pronouncing the title however.

"Mind if I just refer to you as Sir Nerva? If you so wish, you may simply call me Azar." Instead of waiting for a reply however, he continued with his welcoming.

"Please Sir Nerva, let us proceed into the palace. My agents have the most troubling news from the frontiers. It seems not all my peoples have relized divine intervention has occured. They still fight my newly formed, but poorly trained Army Corp. I believe your troops expertise shall be needed." And again without waiting for a reply, Azar proceeded up the stairway. As he did, an order was sounded, and the company of troops executed left shoulder-arms.

In the distance, sounds of gunfire and small explosions sounded. It continued for sometime until the sound of helicopter gunships grew louder, and silenced the comotion before moving on.

"If you desire, Azar," responded Nerva emotionlessly with a nod, following the Raj as he spoke.

"I had not realized such resistance to your rule existed among your people," he replied finally after hearing Azar's rant regarding divine intervention. Clearly Nerva was not amused. "Naturally this shan't be a problem for my men; after all, they would be most disappointed if they were unable to do their fair share of killing during their tour here."

The man had yet to smile in the slightest throughout his conversation with the Raj. Nerva muttered something in Latin to one of his aids that walked at his heels, who entered some information into a PDA.

"I will need to know where the main areas of resistance are so that I may direct my men to...how you say...pacify the local populace," his accent flared up as he spoke. After all, Arabic was not his native language, though he spoke it quite fluently.

He had, in fact, directed his aid, Tiberius Septimus Vitus, to enter into his personal schedule block a period for the planning of the establishment of extermination camps in the Azahan Desert. After all, if resistance to the Raj was as great as Nerva suspected, he would need to annihilate the uncooperative elements of Azahan society. To the Doomani, dealing with an insurgency was like dealing with a cancerous tumor: not only do you cut out the cancer, but you cut out the flesh around the tumor in the event there was but a trace of the cancer there.