NationStates Jolt Archive

"Do you have any last requests, Mr. Prime Minister?"

General Imbint Al-Midjad was a stout man, whose appearance accentuated his years; his face, creased with the scars of both battle and age, had a permanently worn and weary appearance. His thick, bushy mustache served to bring him in line with the cooler dictators of his day.

Next to the young and fresh Prime Minister Mostafa Moin, he was an almost comical figure. This man was tall and slender. His only taste of combat was sending men, like General Al-Midjad, into it. Now though, his eyes darted about with fear. "Everything I did, I did for this country," he said hurriedly, as his voice quavered to a choke.

"A noble sentiment." Midjad took a pistol from one of the lieutenants standing around. Other than the Prime Minister and the Emir, every man in the room was wearing a sandy brown military uniform, adorned with various decorations which meant nothing to anybody. The Prime Minister was dressed in nothing but a blood-stained shirt; the Emir, standing with his family, was clothed in traditional Arab garments. Cocking the pistol, Midjad raised it to the Prime Minister's head. "Get the girl!" he barked to one of the lieutenants. Two soldier moved forward and grabbed the Emir's daughter, Princess Selima, pulling her forward. She was too weary to struggle, but common sense told her what was coming. She closed her eyes instinctively.

"Hold her eyes open," said a voice from the shadows. "Make her watch."

The two soldiers forced the girl to her knees, and using their fingers pryed open her eyelids. Her eyes darted from side to side and she let a whimper escape her lips. "He was a man of peace," Midjad said jokingly. "And it has cost him his life."

"Long live the Emirate! Long Live Al-Djibati!" were the last words of the Prime Minister as a single shot rang out in the tiny room. Princess Selima screamed; the Emir looked away; the Prime Minister slumped forwards, held upright only by the handcuffs that kept him secured to a water pipe.

"Long live the Republic," the General finished, before handing his pistol back to his subordinate and exiting the tiny basement room, climbing the four flights of stairs to the conference room on the top floor. As the cameras went on, he addressed his nation and the world;

"People of Al-Djibati," he said, beaming with pride. "I bring you news that the Revolution continues. Today, the Army has acted in accordance with its constitutional duty to protect the nation and its people. We have rooted out the traitors in the old government; those who whored us out to other nations, and who caused the Civil War. Now, we are a people again, united, and our duty is clear; we must build the Arabian Revolution across the globe."

----------------------------------------------------

"Pass it! Pass!" Muhammad Djidar ignored their cries, dribbling the ball up the street, taking it past their midfield, past their defence, and up to their goal. "Oh, Muhammad's a ball hog!" cried one boy, who dramatically fell onto his backside and played with the dirt. "No way is this fair." Muhammad scored.

At that point, his sister came running round the corner. "Muhammad!" she cried. "Muhammad, they've got papa, they've got papa!" She gripped his clothes and tugged hard, and he grabbed her hands and bent his knees, sinking to her level.

"What? Who's got him?" he said slowly.

"The rebels!" she cried. "The army have gone crazy! Come, mama wants you now!" She looked over his shoulder, before grabbing him and pulling him down an alleyway. Before they could reach the opposite end, soldiers and tanks passed by, and the air filled with the sound of automatic gunfire.

OOC: I basically want to run my nation into the ground spectacularly. Anyone feel like an easy victory? My troops are basically like Iraq's from the first Gulf War - poor training, poor discipline, poor equipment. My air force and navy are practically non-existant.

[OOC: Question, is your nation somewhat like RL Djibouti in location/size?]

(OOC: Damn shame you want to run your nation into the ground, you RP better than most of II.)

OOC: First off, I'd like to say your writing is impressive, very nice work. Jimanistan is a recovering former Communist country, and has a fairly small millitary by most standards, and is in need of resources. Is there any way I could jump in here?

OOC: Deal! I'll shove a few Army Groups and some WMD'S your way

IC:

Office of the President of The United States of Gamma Halo

Chapman turned off the TV and turned to his military chiefs "Get ready" was all he said

From: The United States of Gamma Halo
To:The Emirate of Al-Djibati

We are gravely concerned at the recent events in your country if we don't recieve assurances that a democratic government will be installed soon we will be forced to take military action.

OOC: Two questions:

A: Are you an oil rich nation?
B: Are you looking to majorly invest in your military?

If so, I can have my nation back you. My nation needs alot of oil to keep running and likes too sell weapons like other nations are having an ammunition shortage.

OOC:

[OOC: Question, is your nation somewhat like RL Djibouti in location/size?]

No, it's similar to Iraq in both.

OOC: Deal! I'll shove a few Army Groups and some WMD'S your way

No WMDs please.

(OOC: Damn shame you want to run your nation into the ground, you RP better than most of II.)

I only want to run it into the ground to provide more opportunities to be that bad-ass little thorn-in-the-side with nothing to lose.

OOC: First off, I'd like to say your writing is impressive, very nice work. Jimanistan is a recovering former Communist country, and has a fairly small millitary by most standards, and is in need of resources. Is there any way I could jump in here?

Of course. Either invade, or try to get business deals.

OOC:



No WMDs please.




OOC:Ok just the troops

OOC: I've been inactive for a while and haven't posted here in II for quite some time. I saw this and thought "Why not come back the way I came in, with a genocide" if you don't mind I would like to join. Also would you be okay if I had like a division or something there already?

IC:

Edward Right, an Imperial Task Officer, was aligned to the Supreme Ruling and Glorious Emperor Stephan Richard Carius. Colonel Right had taken part in some of the operations out of Hobleston (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13398851) such as the Ferrin Project, the Bericard Project, and the project in the works, the Djibati Project.

The Imperial Task Officer of the Silver Socialist Empire lead the way for 25,000Imperial Soldiers. They were not of the greatest trained troops but were more of the General Cerinscar type men, half way decently trained then given guns and thrown into combat. But unlike the General Cerinscar's men they were not slave and there was a shortage of the men being sent.

Their goal was simple, kill the people and stake a claim for the Imperium. The Imperium didn't level up to much and was widely disregarded by the Internation Community but if they were to make their deathly appearance in this issue they might just be respected.

They were all shoved into one single Nimitz class carrier and were heading a good pace to the sandy dunes of Al-Djibati for a war that would never be forgotten by the Aligarian race.

The room smelled of an odd combination of Chinese food and fear, as it always did. The last time the National Commander's office had been cleaned, no one on staff seemed to remember. The General sat in his leather chair, mulling over reports from across Jimanistan; the food shortage had been improving, but was not yet over, and economists had made no indication that it would be over any time soon. He slouched over his computer, typing up an ultimatum (sp?), to be sent to Al-Djibati.
---
transmission from Monte Verde, Jimanistan-

The news of your Military uprising traveled swiftly. We are a peacable people. However, freedom is our higest ideal, and the new regime is an affront to that ideal. We will offer you a deal now: Complete surrender of Al-Djibati's military, as well as oil drilling rights, will be required for Jimanistan to stay her hand. If our deal is not accepted, and you have been warned, we will be forced to launch an attack to free the people from your tyrannical rule.

From the desk of High Jimani commander,
Robert Mancuso

"General Midjad, the cities of Niryan and Bandarsa are under Army control. We've encountered militias loyal to the Emir in Hysara and Minia, but both are retreating now that the Emir has been captured."

Midjad slid his fingers over the map, to a large mountain range with extended across the north of his country. "The traitors will be hiding here," he said, making a brisk sweep across the mountains with his palm open. "How many divisions do we have to spare?"

"We have 3 divisions in Niryan, and we only need one to keep order," said his lieutenant. "That means we can have 20,000 men in those mountains, along with a helicopter squadron and a squadron of MiG-21s to provide air support. Now the terrain is almost impassable for tanks, so I suggest we leave them behind. They'd be easy prey for rocket attacks on those narrow roads, and we can hardly drive them up cliff faces."

"Agreed." Midjad turned as a lieutenant entered the room, saluted him, and handed him two sheets of paper. On each was printed an ultimatum from two arrogant and self-righteous nations. "Excellent. The global bourgeois have taken notice of our revolution. The proletariat Arab population in their country cannot be repressed if they dare to stand in our way. Lieutenant, put Wrath of God into action on both of these nations. And get a camera crew into the basement."

* * *

"There are those who will try to stand in our way." Midjad was pacing up and down in front of the Emir, all the while facing the camera and gripping his pistol. The excitement was so great, he felt like just turning there and then and killing the old man. But no; a show had to be made of it. The international news had to take notice if his Revolution were to succeed. "They can try. Al-Djibati is merely the first nation to fall to the unstoppable forces of the Arabian Revolution. The Emir here should know - he tried to stand in its way. Now look at the price he pays."

The Emir looked up, but before he could open his mouth, the General, without even turning and looking at his victim, simply raised his pistol to the man's head. Had one paused the tape as the General pulled the trigger, one might have noticed the slightest of smirks on his face as everyone else flinched. Could it be that he was drawing some perverse pleasure out of this? No, he tried to convince himself. Killing was a means to an end, and he did not enjoy it - he tried to convince himself.

* * *

Rush hour in Gamma Halo's capitol city. The commercial district's traffic was at its height, with cluttered street markets and sprawling collections of cheap trinkets on offer to businessmen heading for the nearest bus stop. It was here that Al-Djibati would strike first. An agent of the Arabian International Brotherhood, a terrorist organisation personally bankrolled by the great General Midjad for years, was boarding one of those buses. Many metres below his feet, two more agents boarded subway trains.

Taking their seats, the three men, each now heading in a different direction, watched the seconds tick by on their synchronised watches. 15 seconds. Each man unzipped his backpack, careful not to let any of the contents show. 10 seconds. Each man reached into his pocket, pulled out a red sash, and tied it around his head. 5 seconds. Each man reached into his pocket once again, felt for the button on the detonator, and let his thumb rest on it. As the cramped and puzzled crowds looked on these men with odd sashes on their heads, each man mumbled a short prayer.

1 second. Each man's thoughts turned to his families. This was for their futures. Fingers tightened around detonators.

0.

* * *

In Jiminstan, the plan of attack was quite different. Dressed as telephone company workers, a five-man team entered a subway station, each carrying with him a canister of VX nerve gas. The pipes connecting the sprinkler system to a water supply were disconnected using plans of the building and its plumbing and electrics obtained by other agents. The VX canisters were attached and prepared. One of the men was left behind, carrying a silenced pistol to stop any inquisitive officials from discovering the plot. Three made their way to station platforms, each carrying a bomb. One simply stood just beside the exit, facing another two in a car across the road, each armed with AK-47s.

It was go-time. The three men on the station platforms detonated their bombs. As the smoke detectors throughout the building detected the fire, the sprinklers came on - deploying VX nerve gas throughout the building and onto the panicked passengers, who made their way up the flights of stairs to the exits where another trap lay in wait for them. As they reached the top, the agent waiting there deployed his bomb, targetting the first few rows of passengers with the explosion. At that point, the two gunmen jumped from the car and made their way into the station, opening fire on the survivors as they ran and driving them back into the now-VX-filled station. Once satisfied that they had done everything they could, both men turned their rifles on themselves.

OOC: A bit of godmod in there, I hope you'll allow it, if only because it gives you casus belli.

The old general was sitting at his desk, red in the face. No one could see it, however, as his face was buried behind a newspaper detailing the recent terrorist attacks on the country. As he sits there, enraged, a thin, blonde-headed young woman spoke up.
"I told you, sir... These people are insane, and I told you threatening them so directly would end badly..."
He lowers the newspaper, scowling at her. The young lady promptly stops speaking, as the General gathers his own thoughts. "This certainly warrents a military strike... We need not inform the President, he will wish to negotiate, as the idealistic fool always does..."
The young lady opens her mouth to speak. As the General glares at her again, she hesitates. "Do you... Want me to begin ordering in the Army?" The General nods, burying himself again in the newspaper article recounting the gruesome attack.

***
"War sucks, Tim..." The thin man towards the back of the line lamented to his comrade.
"Shut up, Greg. You havn't stopped whining since we were dropped into this desert... What do they call this place, again?" The somewhat pudgier, older man asked, shouldering his rifle with a perplexed look.
"Al-somethin', I can't remember... Why do they call this the 'volunteer-conscrip group', anyway?"
"It's to imply how worthless we are... They give us old weapons, and minimal training... And they send us up the front of they convoy. We're cannon-fodder while the real soldiers wheel around to attack from the side.."
The thin man continues to whine, while the troops march on through the desert, heading... Somewhere where most of them didn't know. 10 divisions, each with about 8,000 soldiers, and 50 tanks. The vanguard, the first two divisions, have no tanks, only 10 jeeps per division. All standard-infantry are armed with AK-47's and 9mm pistols. RPG troopers are armed with... RPG's. And officers are armed with revolver pistols.

OOC: Don't know about Al-Djibati geography, so my post was kind of vague... My bad... A little bit of info on the major cities and such might be helpful...

To: All Nations Involved
From: The Grand World Order Office of Foreign Affairs

We have things to tell both sides of this situation.

To the people trying to invade Al-Djibati because they aren't democratic, we find your ilk laughable. Democracy is the idea that the ruling figure follows the wants of those below them. The government isn't to force its opinions on the populace. Yet look what you Democratic scumbags are doing! You're trying to force Jimanistan to become a Democracy! You're hipocrites, just like the rest of your pathetic political order.

To Al-Djibati, seriously, random kidnappings and killings aren't good. The populace, though inferior to the government, is not your enemy unless you make them your enemy. You have to be smart with them. Keep a proper sized leash, so to speak. If you get too hard on them, people lose loyalty, including the military itself. If you get too lenient with them, people walk all over you. Military discipline is important, as it provides a strong image of them, thus bringing in more troops, and the citizenry will feel less powerful if the military appears to be an extremely powerful force.

Encrypted Message to Al-Djibati

We will help build up your military into a proper, disciplined force with your permission. We also can deploy troops to help protect against the aggressors while simultaneously training your troops.


((OOC: OH DAMN IT. I meant Al-Djibati, not Jimanistan. I edited it in time, hopefully.))

Office of The President

"Damn it" Chapman cursed looking at casaulty figures "who's behind this?

"Arabian International Brotherhood a terrorist group personally banked rolled by none other than General Midjad" the FIA Director reported

"Mr President we have a Squadron of C-130s loaded with GBU-43/Bs ready for take off at your order" General Karen Parker the Air Force Chief of Staff interjected.

"Target? The President asked

"The City of Niryan Midjad has a division stationed there" she replied

"Do it" Chapman replied

Al-Djibati Airspace

The Squadron entered Al-Djibati and proceeded towards there target. They saw the city of Niryan still burning from the Djibati armies recent conquest of it. It would not be burning much longer.

"Weapons hot" came the word and as the planes came over the city the bombs were dropped unleashing hell.

In a press statement today the Eurasian Foreign Ministry has announced that it will be evacuating its ex-patriot citizens from Al-Djibati and has advised all its citizens not to travel to this country. Military transports will be sent to the main cities to evacuate those Eurasians trapped in Al-Djibati. All Eurasian citizens in the country are asked to make their way to the Eurasian consulates in Bandarsa and Niryan and to the embassy in the capital. This move comes following an coup by radical army officers and fighting across the country between the army and militias loyal to the old government. The Eurasian government has not recognised the coup government, but has increased the security personnel in its embassy and consulates by sending several companies of paratroopers to be assigned to guarding these compounds.

OOC: Al-Djibati is mostly flat desert terrain, though a mountain range extends across the north of the country. That mountain range is mostly impassable by anything larger than a small car; while the roads will support a tank, they are extremely long and winding, and you're easily liable to lose an entire tank column to RPG fire there, such is the need for slow movement.

The major cities are almost all residential, and no building extends taller than 6 floors. Most streets are narrow, and the fact that the city was constructed in stages with little planning beforehand explains the thousands of narrow back-alleys and hundreds of odd turns in the roads. People live in cramped apartments - as you would expect in a poor country, families are large, and often two or more live in the same tiny apartment.

IC:

To the Grand World Order:
Al-Djibati cannot allow your troops on its soil; however, we would be more than happy to allow your special forces to train our troops.

* * *

In Niryan, people fled from the streets as air raid sirens blared their warning. From the airbase near the city, 12 MiG-23s powered up and left the runway, under orders to intercept the C-130s in the sky.

The C-130s themselves were easy targets. Slow-moving, unmaneuverable, with no stealth capabilities. Each pilot simply obtained his lock-on and fired his missile, before letting loose with a barrage of machine gun fire. On the ground, flak cannons fired up into the sky at the invading aircraft. Their fire was cut short, however, by the use of the GBU-43 MOAB. On the ground, the city of Niryan was torn to shreds, each bomb destroying nine city blocks. The ease of detectability of the C-130, however, had meant that the military, the main target, could easily move to shelters constructed for them under the last regime. The only people left above ground now were civilians; huddled in basements and under tables, they listened to the sounds of explosions getting closer... closer... closer...

By the end of the brief aerial battle, 25,000 civilians and 42 soldiers had been killed in the densely-populated city below. The destruction of the hospital meant that none of the 40,000 injured would be treated, before either time healed their copious wounds, or they expired.

OOC: Okay, thanks.
IC:

A young man sits at the microphone of an impromptu broadcasting facility. his well-trimmed black beard is speckled with sweat, as none of the men were used to this horrific heat. Hoping that Shortwave radio recievers are common in such an under-developed place, he flicks the transmitter on.
"People of Niryan, the army of Jimanistan shall be marching into your city. lay down your arms, and none shall be harmed. We are liberators, not conquerors. We are your friends, and we wish to free you from the military junta that has usurped your government. Any other citizens of Al-Djibati, we beseach thee, overthrow your oppressors, fight the tyrants, for the proletariat!"
The young man steps away from the microphone and nods to a somewhat older gentleman, who leans into the mic and repeats the same message, this time in Arabic.

ooc: Manth as the map in my signature shows is an African country with its capitol in Cairo, generally as per real world geography. For the purposes of this message I've assumed that whatever iteration of NS Earth I am on is the same as you are on - I tend to be fairly open with geography especially when it gives me a reason to get involved in an promising-looking RP. However if you'd rather not be almost-neighbors, please happily ignore the post below.

Encrypted Message
Denomination of Foreign Diplomacy CCX Liaison
Recipient: Office of General Midjad of Al-Djibati

General,

As you may have guessed, the political disturbances in al-Djibati have not gone unnoticed in Cairo - indeed, the Denomination as well as other parts of the government have been paying a great deal of attention to recent events. Whilst we have hitherto felt it unnecessary to meddle directly in the affairs of a sovereign nation, the Denomination must note that al-Djibati's most recent actions have brought it into conflicts with nations which it will be unlikely to defeat on its own. No disparagement of the military forces under your command is intended - however, between a still-raging civil war and attack from two much larger nations, it is the opinion of Manth that al-Djibati will certainly fall unless it receives outside support.

Which brings us to the point of this message. Manth possesses the military might that al-Djibati does not, and is willing, under certain circumstances, to throw the full weight of its support behind your government. Eighty million men march under the black and gold - with the might of the Union Army at your backs, the aggressors will never force a landing in al-Djibati. The Union Army and Navy possess between them the power both to safeguard al-Djibati from outside rulers and to assist you in defeating the remnants of opposition to your government.

Should you accept this offer, we ask in return that you fully open your borders to Manthian citizens and your economy to Manthian investment. In addition, in order for any aid to be fully effective you must allow Manthian soldiers into al-Djibati - but you may rest assured that the Union does not intend to interfere in your government, nor overstay its welcome once al-Djibati is secure from foreign enemies. The Union's concern in this conflict is for its own security, not for expansion - if al-Djibati were to fall, two large and powerful states would be able to maintain a huge military presence on our very doorstep. As a matter of policy the Union has and will always act to preempt such a situation, and we would much prefer to see your government continue on in power than to have to kick two foreign armies out of your country at a later date.

While we understand that this offer may require some consideration on your part, as a matter of military necessity the Denomination requests and requires a speedy response.

General, our regards.

"Shit" Parker cursed throwing the BDA report across the room over 25,000 dead and only 42 were military the strike had been a massive failure.

"Maam the President is on Line 2" an aide piped up

"Put him through" she sighed "Yes Mr President"

"What the fuck happened Parker? Chapman screamed "Your strike was a bloodbath"

"They saw us coming Mr President the military got underground and when the bombs fell there was only the FLAK gunners and civvies topside" she replied crestfallen.

"A Marine Colonel has recommended carpet bombings of several military installations pull this off and I might let you keep your job" Chapman hissed down the phone.

"Yes Sir" she replied knowing that if she screwed up again she would likely be executed.

"Major have some B-1s readied and order two squadronms of F-35s to escort them I want these bases wiped off the map by Dinner" Parker ordered

Al-Djibati Airspace

The B1s proceeded escorted to there targets.

"Night Stalker this is Command weapons are free you have a green light to engage your targets"

"Rodger Command we are weapons hot"

The Bombers dropped their payload on the bases incinerating them a series of deadly explosions.

Sorry were those transports mine? 'COS IF THEY WERE THEN YOUR GOING TO GET SOME SERIOUS TROUBLE.

Sorry were those transports mine? 'COS IF THEY WERE THEN YOUR GOING TO GET SOME SERIOUS TROUBLE.

OOC: Did you drop MOABs on my cities with your transports? No? Then they weren't yours. Please read the whole post, thank you.

Also, Gamma Halo, I'm going to have to ask that you stop having your aircraft "just there" right above my cities and airbases. I let the first one slide, because I kind of did it to you with the terrorist attack; but I do have radar in my country, and anti-air defences - things which wouldn't help you against terrorism. Phrases like "incinerating them in a series of deadly explosions" are really deciding my casualties for me. Also, you never stated casualties from the anti-air gunfire and my MIG interception of your C-130s. And finally, how does your Reasonable economy support the purchase of at least two squadrons of $83 million per unit F-35s, and an indeterminate number of $283 million per unit B-1 Lancers?

http://nstracker.org/index.php?nation=gamma+halo

I use NSTracker, since it seems to give the best results. I know I said I wanted my nation pummeled into the ground, but I'd at least like to keep a semblance of realism.

IC:

To the New Manthian Government:
In the light of our situation and your geographic proximity to our nation, we do indeed call upon your nation to dispatch forces and aid us against our foes.

* * *

At the newly-renamed Madjid Air Force Base, the 24 MiG-29s in service with the Al-Djibati Air Force were dispatched against the incoming bomber aircraft. On the ground below, SAM launchers were brought into action at the airbases which the bombers' trajectory suggested they might be heading to.

Meanwhile, 80,000 troops, with the 512 T-54 and T-55 tanks still serviceable, marched towards the incoming Jiministan army. Most of the 80,000 were poorly-trained conscripts; some had literally been rounded up as the army marched. Some were children who had thought the fight would be entertaining. Only 10,000 were regulars; of those, though, 1,000 were Republican Guardsmen, fanatically devoted and lifelong soldiers, armed with better weapons and given better training than even the regulars. In the skies above them, 12 Mi-24 Hind helicopters flew towards the Jiministani troops.

Following behind them was a group of 40 RM-70 multiple rocket launchers. As they entered range of the Jiministan soldiers, the launchers opened fire with a range of 400 kilometres, blanketing the vanguard divisions of Jiministani troops with rocketfire.

In the skies above, Sukhoi Su-25s, escorted by MiG-27s, closed on the other Jiministani divisions. Each was armed with a variety of bombs and air-to-surface missiles, and each was designed to whittle down the Jiministani divisions before any troop attack.

700 kilometres behind them, Scud launchers were being loaded with payloads of VX Nerve Gas, as a last-ditch method of ensuring that the Jiministani troops did not advance further into Al-Djibati.

-Al-Djibati, somewhere near Niryan, Jimani encampment-

Tim's lifeless body was sprawled out on the desert sand, bloodied and covered with holes. The vanguard was being smashed into nothingness, and RPG troopers fired wildly at helicoptors, hoping to at least bring a few down. Then... Then the bombs dropped, and one desperate charge went forth, with all the motorized units blasted to pieces and over half of the vanguard conscripts having been wiped out, an officer gives a shrill cry towards the front of the column, screaming something about the Motherland, and leads a desperate charge, unlikely to make it. somewhere between 7,000 and 8,000 vanguard troopers survive the Djibati attack.
---
towards the rear of the column, the real soldiers mobilize. The did not have fancy weapons. They did not have a massive military budget. But the propaganda films had made them determined enemies, and hatred towards the enemy raged in their hearts, remembering the innocent people who died. the remaining eight divisions split up, four going each way around the vanguard, wheeling around towards the enemy, tanks leading the charge, RPG troopers sitting atop the tanks, riflemen flanking them. The conscripts did their job, now it is time for the real army to move forward.

OOC: Our troops are still 400 kilometres apart - the maximum effective range of my artillery - so I doubt you'd be firing at my helicopters just yet :P only my fighters are in the air above you, the helicopters are above my forces.

IC:

"Their front lines have been annihilated!" cried the Brigadier leading the charge. "All infantry, prepare yourselves! We will win this day!"

"Artillery section, reload batteries!" shouted another officer into his radio. "Give them another volley! Co-ordinate with our Su-25s to target their rear divisions. Leave none untouched!"

The artillery stood in place as the T-55s advanced slowly forward, until they were in front of the rocket launchers, covering them from any lightning attack. As they did, the Su-25s above the enemy forces radioed in what they could see, while at the same time firing at the troops on the ground with their front-mounted gatling guns.

"We've got 8 divisions still moving, the front 2 divisions have been wiped out. These divisions are mostly infantry, they'll be extremely susceptible to a rocket attack. A sustained rocket attack will both whittle them down and demoralise them. Damn, I'm out of ammunition. Sukhoi Six returning to base."

"Roger that Sukhoi Six. All Sukhois are ordered to return to base for rearming and refueling. We'll easily get another volley in before they get within range of our troops."

It was at that moment that an RPG round exploded in the middle of the soldiers, killing several. Each man turned towards the source; over a crest in the sand, lay a two-man team with a rocket launcher. As they took cover, sniper fire and RPG fire hit the Al-Djibati soldiers from both sides.

"It's the rebels! Return fire!" cried the Brigadier. The air filled with the sounds of AK-47 rounds, ineffective at such long ranges, as the Brigadier picked up the radio. "All Su-25s are to fall back to cover our troops! We are under attack by rebel forces; I repeat, we are under attack by rebel forces!"

The attack helicopters swerved into action, opening fire with machine guns and rockets against the rebel positions. Outnumbered and outgunned, the rebels had the surprise of their attack and the chaos caused by it to the unsuspecting Al-Djibati troops to their advantage.

OOC: Ah, I see, my fault... I'm fairly ignorant of the metric system... You're artillery has a range of almost 250 mi.?.... I need to read up on artillery, then!
Ic:

The vaguard, now reduced to a chaotic mass of humanity as shells crash down all around, rendered effectivly worthless at this point, begins to withdraw, hoping to draw the Djibati after them. A handful of the conscripts decide to try their luck in the desert, running headlong into the dusty void. All the while the other eight divisions continue rolling forward, hoping to close the distance soon. Every man, hoping to survive, also hopes to suggest General Mancuso's immeadiate execution by firing squad. As they roll on, RPG-troopers fire vainly up at the attacking aircraft, doing very little good.

Magna Polis

In the Courtyard around the Spire, a collection of Special Tactics Force Agents stood at attention. Heinrich Slaag, the leader of the S.T.F., was inspecting them. Heinrich was the only member of the force not trained from birth. His helmet sported a 3-foot tall horsehair that started as black, but turned neon blue as it got towards the ends of the hairs. Most of the Agents had nothing on their helmets, while others had prominent spikes sticking from the tops. Another Agent stood in front of them with a black beret with a silver oak leaf. There were 315 Agents gathered, each to assist in training the Djibati forces. Each of these soldiers were trained since birth to fight, and were masters of their roles.

Heinrich finished his inspection and took a paper and clipboard from the Major. He signed the bottom, authorizing the delpoyment of these specific Agents. Heinrich retreated back into the Spire, while the 315 soldiers and the Major leading them climbed into trucks. The trucks made their way to Magna Polis Military Airfield #2, where a C-130 waited for them. Four F-22s were "parked" near the C-130. They would be the escorts.

The Agents entered the C-130 by rank. The Enlisted went in first, and the Major went last. The C-130 taxied out to the runway along with the F-22s, and waited for the control tower to authorize a takeoff.

When it came, the C-130 rumbled as it accelerated on the runway. It lifted off of the ground and began circling as the F-22s followed. Once the fighters had taken off, the planes headed for Djibati.

OOC:

OOC: Ah, I see, my fault... I'm fairly ignorant of the metric system... You're artillery has a range of almost 250 mi.?.... I need to read up on artillery, then!

Ah, sorry, it's an RM-70 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RM-70), basically a Czech BM-21. It's a rocket launcher - extreme range, basically just to carpet a large area with rockets. I don't have any conventional artillery with my force.

Also, Jiministan, are you RPing that you have a border with me? If so, that's fine, and in fact interesting.

IC:

To the Grand World Order:
We would now like to invite your troops to enter Al-Djibati to help defend our nation from these aggressors.

* * *

The Su-25s returned to their base to refuel and rearm. The process took several minutes, and the base was well behind the front line.

On the front line, the call went out from the forward observers: The main enemy divisions were retreating.

"Should we advance?" said one of the colonels. The sound of gunfire had died down now, as the rebels had retreated; the rockets launching were all that could be heard now.

"No," said the Brigadier. "Even without those two brigades, they still pose a threat. We will continue the rocket bombardment and will not engage until they come within tank range. Order all troops to ready positions and call into base command for more tanks."

"More tanks? Sir, we've got almost all of them. Base command won't grant our request, they need tanks to support troops in our cities."

In his secret bunker in the desert, General Midjad smiled silently to himself, before taking a deep breath on a cigar which had just been made illegal in the country by his government. In front of him stood a microphone; what he said would be taken by wire to a transmitter miles away, where it would be broadcast; this would stop the enemy triangulating his position.

"People of Al-Djibati, I have received news that our armies are winning a decisive victory - the mother of all victories - against the armies of infidels which have invaded our glorious nation. The blood of the infidels will flow like a river through the sands of Al-Djibati. The Hammer of God has descended upon them and proven to us that the spirit of our people cannot be overcome. Jihad is the way of all Arab people."

Then, he nodded to an aide, who switched the transmitter. Now he was broadcasting to the Jiministani troops, through the use of an interpreter.

"To the Jiministani troops; please do not halt your advance. Continue your march towards our army. Two entire divisions of your ten division army have been wiped out by our rocket fire; your incompetent leaders have sent you to die in this desert, like the thousands who marched in front of you who now lay dead on our sands. Please, make our job easier for us; continue marching, continue closing the gap, continue towards our guns and continue towards the rockets which rain down and have already killed thousands of your countrymen, along with our superior aerial power. Make no attempt to flee; a fleeing soldier lives to fight another day, which makes our job even harder for us."

He handed over to the regular propoganda broadcaster.

OOC: I hadn't really thought about it. I was vague on how they entered the country, and I assumed it was an air drop... Don't think a border could be shared, since Jimanistan is getting put on the Rodinia map. Also, I was thinking that a handful of soldiers who run off into the desert could aid the insurgents somehow... What do you think?
IC:

A thin officer, with black hair and a moustache, paces back and forth. His uniform is maddeningly pristine, every detail perfect. He mulls over the likelyhood of victory, and what cost would be carried with it. He wonders, too, if a retreat would lead to him being fired.
"It doesn't matter, not at this point, anyway..."
Captain Guthrie didn't normally talk to himself, and generally regarded doing so as a mark of insanity. But this was different. Things were going badly. Most of the troops had routed, and he couldn't help but wonder if the Djibati radio broadcast was correct... Should we retreat?

--
Greg runs out into the desert blindly, having no idea where he was going, or why he was going there. he had two containers of water; His own, and the one he stole from Tim's corpse. The rest of the Army appeared to be running away, and Greg didn't want anything to do with it. He'd probably be tried for treason if he went back, so the only thing to do is to press on... To Somewhere...

Massaua

The rising sun painted the eastern sky pink, glittering off the gently lapping waves of the calm Red Sea, and turning the desert sands to brilliant gold. There were a handful of watchers on the beach, however, who were treated to a sight more exciting than a simple desert sunrise. After the recent diplomatic negotiations with al-Djibati, the Massauan section of the Red Sea Fleet had been given new orders.

Scores of warships of the Union Navy called Massaua their home base, and the seas usually crowded with merchant shipping had been cleared to make way for the squadrons sailing this morning for the seas off Djibati. A looming gray blot in the midst of the glittering water, the Sinai, an Ark Royal-class fleet carrier, dominated the flotilla, surrounded by escorts and a pair of Admiral-class cruisers. Three other battle groups had left earlier in the morning, all centered around the slightly smaller Triumph-class vessels - within a few days all four CVBGs would round the Arabian Peninsula and arrive in their positions off the Djibatian coast. The aircraft they carried would be in position to intervene against any further attacks on Djibati by air, while the remaining would oversee the Manthian troops disembarking on the southern coast.

Of the latter, numbers were planned to increase quite rapidly over the next few weeks. The first troops on the ground would be a Naval Infantry detachment of one and a half thousand put ashore from the amphibious assault vessel Tisiphone - their role would be merely to secure the needed harbors and port facilities against any insurgent or foreign attack, if the Djibatian army had not already done so. Once there was a safe sea lane to the country, many more units of the Army would be shipped in via troop transport. The final projections by the Denomination of Strategy called for up to two hundred and seventy-five thousand soldiers of the Union Army to be deployed to Djibati - a formidable and rather sizable force. Logistical needs did not take care of themselves though, and it would be some days before the first Army soldiers would be ready to ship out.

OOC: Jiministan, they're your soldiers! You can do what you like with them. I'll RP the insurgency if you want. They're probably going to win the civil war anyway.

IC:

"Over there," whispered Muammar, handing his binoculars to Sajida, his wife. "Who is that?" He looked over his shoulder at the contents of his Jeep - enough water for weeks out in this desert, dried food packs, medical supplies - everything that the man, whoever he was, would need.

"His uniform is Jimanistani," said his wife, catching a glimpse of the communist parephenalia on his sleeve. "He must have fled the battle."

"That means the traitors are winning," said Muammar, turning the steering wheel and pressing his foot down on the accelerator. "Here," he said, handing his wife an AKS-74U. "We don't know how he'll react."

The Jeep made its way over the sands towards the figure on the horizon. As they pulled up next to him, Sajida jumped out of the vehicle and ran to the man's side, slinging her weapon over her shoulder and helping him to stand up straight. Muammar opened the back of the Jeep and brought out a first aid kit and a canister of water. Neither his wife, nor he, knew a word of Jimanistani; thus, their actions would have to speak for them. They helped the man into the back of their Jeep and drove quickly for the camp the insurgents had made for themselves in the mountains.

Once there, the Jimanistani man was helped to a small cave where medical staff, still wearing the tattered uniforms of the old regime, covered his cuts and cleaned his scrapes. A doctor stepped forward and said, in clear Jimanistani, "Greetings. I am Colonel Singh, Chief Medical Officer of this camp. I spent three years studying in your nation as a youth; I speak your language fairly well, I hope. We can provide you with shelter and food, until your wounds have healed. But we are in the middle of a war. If this camp comes under attack, you may well be forced to help us. If you can't fight, then we can't keep you here once we've healed you. We'll make arrangements for you to be transported back to Jimanistan."

ooc: Al-Djibati, you have a telegram

Near Al-Djibati Airspace

The group of transport planes were preparing to confirm their presence with Al-Djibati Air Command. An encrypted message was sent from the lead C-130 to a confirmed safe air control facility.

"Al-Djibati Air Command, this is the lead C-130 of the GWO air group, Sierra Tango Foxtrots on board, awaiting authorization to enter airspace, over..."

Meanwhile, the Spire had received Al-Djibati's invitation of troops.

Quickly, the GWO was calling soldiers for duty. The military was already mobilized, due to several wars and an invasion attempt. 35,000 Marines and 70,000 Army personnel were being prepared for departure to Al-Djibati, along with the Navy (Including Air Force.)

((OOC: Do you have a map of your nation? If not, is there any coastline?))