NationStates Jolt Archive

The stern face of the statue stared out across the ocean. Its heroic figure caught illuminated by the brilliance of the moonlight that flooded down through the clear sky and danced upon the playful waves. The lifeless eyes, empty spheres carved into the stone visage, observing the thousands of shimmering waves that extended for miles. The dark shadows of distant islands could barely be seen, the hundreds of lights on those shores insignificant against the sparkles of the water. The gauntleted fist that pointing out, and the rifle in the opposite hand facing the ground. The pointed ears that seemed as if walls for the short hair carved atop the head. This was Khordren, the Sarian Emperor of ages past.

His fathers before him, his sons after him and he himself had brought bloody warfare to the entire star system for a thousand years. They had conquered, killed and enslaved millions, and it was this planet, which they had named Doth, that was their greatest achievement. A water world, with a large temperate archipelago in the northern hemisphere. Once home to hundreds of small towns and villages, containing thousands of blue-skinned aliens whose identity is lost to history, were completely annihilated. The Sarians, ever hungry for conquest and power, arrived and slaughtered them all, demolished their structures and monuments, melted down their wealth, and erased their history and technologies. A complete genocide. They had purged the planet, and built it back within their own image.

They were completely black, the eyes that stared out across the water with the statue, and lifeless. Tall, graceful figures stood flanking the monument, adorned in robes of fine fabric and wearing hoods that covered their faces, hiding the smooth, tan skin of their race. "We had it all, once." They spoke in a strange tongue. Their tongue. Not recognized anywhere else in the galaxy, nor even by the vary nation they belonged to. It was ancient, and almost forgotten. "Wealth, slaves, power. A vast army and fleet to maintain it all. What happened?"

"The Taledonians came, do you not recall your history?" Answered another in the same strange tongue. "Or was that rhetorical?"

A third voice joined the conversation, followed by a fourth.

"I believe he was being rhetorical."

"But if it does need an answer, the Taledonians came. They told us to bow, and we spat in their faces. Then we demolished their fleet. Who knew they had so many to send against us, and from an area unreachable for our own vessels. Then they set up their damnable fortresses and simply exerted their will upon us by the strength of their soldiers."

"Ah yes, the forts." the first spoke again. Behind them rang out a mighty blast, and a gust of wind shot out at them, along with immense heat and copious amounts of dust. Flames and smoke rose high into the sky, and new fires began appearing out across the waters in the neighboring islands. The thick, black smoke coming from them becoming increasingly visible as the rays of the sun became more and more visible above the horizon.

"I've always enjoyed a good sunrise."

That's a very good story, Taledonia! :)

(OOC: Shh! Wasn't finished yet! Still more that needs to be added before it's really....allowing...for people to join in.)

OOC: If I'm not intruding, I must say that that was an incredibly well written introduction. I'll most likely join once it becomes "allowed."

OOC: Same as Volzgrad.

OOC: Beautiful! Tagged...

OOC: Tagged

OOC: Tagged. Interesting.

Tagged.

(OOC: Look at all the tags! I feel important.)

IC:

"Yes, come in."

The solid chestnut door closed softly. The office was strangely decorated, or rather, different than anything else you'd find in the picturesque Republican capital. The walls were actually drywall, instead of marble or stone, and painted a light blue. Around the room, bookcases and shelves of all sizes, but mostly constructed of hickory, which matched all the trim and finish in the room which in turn accented the burgundy carpeting. A fern sat in the corner of the room, opposite the large window that looked out upon the military training field below. Behind the desk of the same wood, polished to a gleam and holding several neat stacks of paper, stood the Magister Militum of the Republic, staring out at the thousands of men who were drilled mercilessly in the driving rain and the mud.

"Are you aware of the situation?" He asked as the officer saluted and stood at attention just in front of the desk. "Yes, sir." he replied grimly.

"How much do you know?"

"Just as much as anyone else, sir. Sarian rebels have begun rioting."

The Magister turned and rubbed his eyes. "So you've seen the news, then. It's much worse than that, I'm afraid. It appears that, while we had our eyes and ears on the other provinces, looking for dissent, we forgot to keep an eye on our closest territories. The Sarian rebels, or 'New Sarian Empire' as they like to shout is their name, have somehow built up a fleet of mismatched vessels. Merchant ships and small frigates are what we've seen so far of their forces, but they've also hired several pirate fleets to raid and even fully engage our ships in system."

The officer didn't look fazed at all, keeping the calm face he had brought in with him. "What of the legions?"

"Somehow they got high-capacity explosives in the majority of the garrisons and forts. We expect large numbers of Sarian soldiers within the legions defecting and aiding these terrorists. It would explain the ease and how they could get them set up in such a small amount of time. In brevity, Tribune, the province is no longer in our control. What forces weren't killed in the surprise attacks are tied up either in starships fighting against the marauders and attempting to breach the vast orbital defenses of the planets and moons, or on the ground attempting to keep a perimeter around whatever installations remain ours."

"What are my forces?" the officer asked plainly, interrupting the briefing. With a smile, the Magister picked up a file from the desk and handed it over. "With the Senate tied up trying to decide how to deal with Senator Po, it would be foolish to even think of attaining federal resources quickly, even for me. Therefore the Pro-Consul of this province has transfered full control of the provincial garrisons to your control. I've already given word for third, fourth and seventh Taledonian legions to assemble at Audei, along with the fifteenth and twentieth defensive fleets, which will also be given to your control.

"Your orders are simple, Tribune. Go in, re-organize our men still in the province, and suppress the uprising. Any questions?"

"None, sir."

"Dismissed then."

(OOC: Note to all other Republican provinces: this is where you I leave it open for you to join. Whoever wants to be the Tribune in charge of the expedition simply make a post about him going to collect his forces or something. All others, you're welcome to be other commanders, or even groups of soldiers gathering or still in the Sarian state.)

The nebula shone brilliantly, making that much prettier the canvas to hold the painting of destruction. A frigate went up in flames, soon extinguished as the oxygen released from the vessel was used up. The plasma arcs continued to rain blindly into the purplish cloud, creating bursts of color as they struck the fleeing Republican vessels.

The glorious thing about the times were that communication with anyone was instant, regardless of the distance or even the destination, if there was any. And the glorious thing about a revolution was all the money you seemed to inherit from those you deposed. With this vast fortune, you have many options. You can bribe remaining resistance to join you. You can hire pirates and mercenaries with the promise of payment and plunder. You can even buy yourself a good amount of ships to create for yourself a navy. Money has all sorts of uses.

Another thing you seem to acquire is attention. Suddenly the whole galaxy knows your name, and what it is you're doing. Some will condemn you, and suggest peaceful discussions between the previous state and the new one, but these people are insignificant. Some, who are the much more interesting, simply see an opportunity to strike a blow against old enemies, either by aiding the new faction, or taking advantage of the weakened state of the old regime and conquering the territory for themselves.

As it stood, however, the Sarians had simply hired thousands of pirate vessels and merchant ships, in the hopes of distracting the Republican fleets in the area until they could get their vessels fully functioning.

(OOC: This post is basically a summation of what's going on with the rebels, and is the chance for anyone else to jump in. Sorry for it's rather....direct and inartistic approach, but I hit a rut...)

(OOC: Do we have to be Taladonian soldiers or can we RP our own forces?)

OOC: Ah, pity I can't bring my mercenary nation into this. It'd be perfect for them, but then I'd have to forgo any Neo-Roman involvement to avoid puppetwanking, and that's just no good either! XD

IC: Tribune Alexander's heart was racing as he left the Magister's office, and his head was swimming with all the thoughts he hadn't been able to voice in the Magister's presence. A full-fledged insurrection catching us with our asses bare, by Hades! He had barely even heard of these Sarians before this, much less had any idea how much of a threat they could pose. Though, considering that they have a history with the Taledonians, they probably have a reason to be ticked off.

<Hercules.> He summoned his aide-de-camp via the neural commlink that all Neo-Roman soldiers possessed.

<Yes, Tribune?>

Alexander responded by pouring everything from the meeting into one hard squirt of data. It wasn't the most pleasant of experiences for the one receiving it, but Alexander had no time to bring his right hand man up to speed the regular way.

<I...see, Tribune. I shall begin marshalling available forces immediately.>

<Pull in everyone who's supposed to be armed - legionaries, Praetorians, civilian police, everyone. And put out a pulse on the Demobilized net. Take every Neo-Roman that lines up and put a rifle in their hands.> Neo-Roma was one of the few Republican provinces that maintained a mandatory military service program - one year for every citizen once they reached 18 years of age - and thus most Neo-Romans were preferable to your average 'civilian' when it came to putting them in a war zone.

<It shall be done, Tribune.>

As soon as the conversation ended, Alexander summoned his transport skimmer and took off for the Taledon Command Center - his command center, now - at all possible speed.

(OOC: Do we have to be Taladonian soldiers or can we RP our own forces?)

(OOC: Republic nations can RP as whatever nationality they choose, since the legions are mixed. Everyone else is to be their own people, or someone of their own creation like some pirates or something, and come in and do whatever the hell they want, as I stated before. Try to take the place for yourself, help one of the sides, sit back and watch the fireworks. Is up to you.)

OOC: Got it. Unfortunately, I have to go to work soon so I won't be able to post an IC intro for some time.

OOC:This seems like an awesome thread. Can't post IC now but I will in a little while.

OOC: Question: is this happening all over the Taledonian province, or just on Sarian?

OOC: I will be doing a post for mercenary stuff, since the Federation does not go to war lightly and they have no reason to help that rebel state and can see asking for a peaceful negotiation would be pointless.

(OOC: Here is a rudimentary map of the Republic, as well as some basic info about some of the systems down further. It is currently happening solely in the Sarian solar system, of which all the planets therein are described on this page.

Map (http://z10.invisionfree.com/Republic_Forum/index.php?showtopic=1350))

Audei - Capital City of Druuda

"Do not give me excuses, Legate, you will keep the perimeter around those installations secure!"

"Your point is clear, sir, but the manpower we need - "

"Did you not receive my orders to utilize the paramilitary? The civilian police, the neighborhood watch for Hades' sake!"

"I... did, sir, and we have called them as you ordered, but to deploy such lightly armed personnel against these fanatics, alongside legionary troops - "

"I don't care if you have to build walls out of your own casualties to keep them at bay! You think things are bad now, do you want to see how bad they'll get if they get their hands on our own equipment?"

The Legate in command of the Republican garrison in Saria went silent. Normally Alexander would feel a twinge of sympathy for the man - his face was clearly worn with fatigue over the vidlink, and his voice carried the strain of suddenly having to keep every Republican military installation and armory (the ones that hadn't yet been bombed) out of the hands of a large number of well-armed rebels - but there was no room for going soft on anyone here. Alexander was an infantry commander by experience, and he knew what had to be done to check the rebels' momentum. It was going to be damned hard on those that had to do it, but until Alexander could arrive with his task force, it simply had to be done. And Legate Liao, for all his protests, knew it.

"I will put your orders into effect immediately," he said resignedly. "We will hold the armories and the barracks at all costs."

"I'm glad to hear it," Alexander said sincerely. "We will arrive in time to relieve you, Legate," he continued, trying to bolster the older man's confidence.

"God willing," Liao grunted, and ended the video link.

Alexander hissed a breath between his teeth after the screen went blank. Time, as in every military campaign, was a problem to overcome. Three Republican legions were mustering under his command, almost 2 million men, not counting the hundreds of thousands more required to maintain them in and out of combat, plus the crews of the one thousand capital ships between the 15th and 20th defensive fleets - even with the Republic's formidable logistical machine working for him, it was no mean feat to assemble and deploy such a sheer amount of men and machines.

The young Tribune's restlessness and impatience had him whisking himself back and forth across practically half of Audei itself, in and out of orbit, checking, double-checking, inquiring, encouraging, browbeating, outright chewing out - anything he could think of to get his forces' rears in gear just that much faster. It was a furious pace for one person, but anyone close to Alexander knew just what a furious young man he was.

----------

Saria - Capital City of Saria

"When is that fat bastard gonna give the fall-back order?!" yelled Legionary McNguyen to no one in particular as he sprayed plasma bolts into the blown-out buildings down the street from the armory. He yelled again and fell backwards behind the slab of ferrocrete he was using as cover as the structure right next to him and his squad blew out its windows, the bomb propelling most of its ground floor outwards into the street in a deadly cloud of debris. As McNguyen unrolled from the fetal ball he had scrunched himself into, he saw the body of his squadmate Damascus impaled on several broken-off lengths of structural plasteel, and almost wept.

But the sudden whizzing of energy bolts and projectiles past his head wrenched him back into the present. The Sarian rebels who had been hiding in the rubble were now rushing his position, screaming and whooping as they unleashed wild and disorderly fire at the remnants of the Republican squad. McNguyen crouched behind the lip of his cover and returned fire, but there were so many, so fast - until the Cataphractus battlesuit rose from the pile of pulverized ferrocrete that had temporarily buried it in the explosion, and raised its assault cannon to its shoulder.

Rubble fell from from the bipedal mech's shoulders as it squeezed the trigger and pumped dozens of canisters of hypervelocity flechettes into the mass of oncoming rebels. The front mob disintegrated into a pulp of blood and bone, their light armor offering no protection from the storm of crystalline needles that punched through their bodies and tore them to pieces before their brains were able to register the fact that they'd been hit. The assault cannon's underslung artillery cannon thundered as the Cataphractus pilot discharged an antipersonnel round into the ground in the midst of the bloodied mob, throwing up a cloud of dust and debris that further obscured the firing zone. McNguyen crouched and clutched his pulse rifle, ready to gun down anything that came out of that wall of smoke, but he knew what happened to people caught anywhere near one of those rounds. There wouldn't be anyone coming out of there - hell, there probably wouldn't even be pieces.

What did come out of the smoke was an anti-vehicle missile, streaking too fast for even the Cataphractus' instruments to anticipate and dodge. The valiant machine's torso was blown out its backside, mingled with the red spray that had been its pilot. McNguyen's hopes crashed to the ground as the Cataphractus' smoking shell did; and when the order finally came, seconds later, to fall back into the armory structure by squads, his feet dragged numbly on the littered street.

Their devotion was admirable, their spirits unbreakable. Civilians had taken up weapons, anything they could find, even pieces of furniture or debris to clobber unsuspecting legionaries or praetorians to collect their more formidable weapons and armor. They pushed through the streets, their self-mandated mission the only thing in their minds, their chants in the ancient tongues of their people creating an eerie shriek that reverberated throughout the streets. Only the most audacious and stupid of the mob would strike at the remaining military installations, the majority preferring the massacre of anyone who was not of their race, or those that were known to be avid supporters of the Taledonians and the Republic.

It was, surprisingly, the ancient capital of the crumbled empire that felt the greatest effects of the uprising. Thousands upon thousands of years of indoctrination, religious and cultural conversion, and social programs installed by the Taledonian empire should have assimilated the people fully, but it seemed they were all ready to throw off the yoke of territory, and become a great nation once again. Their own nation. Their own empire.

The wind picked up and blew the smoke away at last, revealing the bloody scenario wrought by the cataphractus. The mangled corpses littering the edges of the blast radius were grisly. The bits and pieces of flesh and organs littering everywhere else were sickening. The ground and everything exposed in the surrounding area caked in blood, already dried due to the immense heat. From this scene, they ran.

The Republic ran. After them came the more organised, well-armed soldiers of the New Empire. Adorned in relics taken from museums, the barely functioning power armor of their forefathers, they moved in, their stolen rifles and heavy weapons blasting away at the legionaries who retreated. There was still ample cover, even more as the Republic withdrew further and further, sealing themselves into their fort; where they would be trapped like rats. And they were rats, rats who ran away from the fire and noise. Rats who would be crushed under the treads of the battle tanks that rounded the corner and took aim at the armory's defences.

Saria - Capital City of Saria

There was only one pair of heavy anti-vehicle guns on each side of the square armory complex, the majority of the installation's automated defenses being given over to anti-infantry turrets. The first of one such pair was annihilated by a blast from the lead tank in the column; its twin rotated and locked onto the offending vehicle, slamming a railgun slug into its front armor as its automated loudspeaker blared "For the Republic!" The tinny-sounding battlecry repeated as the turret plugged away at the armored column a half-dozen more times before it too was destroyed.

----------

Legate Liao watched the scene from his own headquarters, which was also now under siege. He looked as though he had aged ten years since speaking to Alexander - a lost, disbelieving man on the edge of breaking.

"Power armor...battle tanks..." he muttered to himself. "How did they get all this? Where in hell did it come from? Why in hell didn't we see this coming?"

----------

Once inside the complex, the spirits of the Republican legionaries, policemen and gendarmes rallied somewhat. Were they not now behind ten meters of reinforced ferrocrete, in a complex designed to resist outside attack? Did they not have access to the weapons, ammunition and supplies stored within? Were there not (and this, oddly, was one of the bigger morale boosters) a full dozen functioning Cataphracti among them, the most lethal mechanized infantry units in the Republic's arsenal?

The surviving officers knew better than to think their troubles were over, what with practically the entire civilian population of the planetary capital supporting and assisting these frighteningly well-armed insurgents. But they kept that to themselves for the time being and allowed the men a breather. The automated defenses outside were being rapidly worn down, but they were taking their share of hostiles with them. They had only a few minutes at best before they would have to start looking to their own defense again, but that few minutes would do them wonders.

"Well, that's that," said Centurion Severinus, the de facto commanding officer, as the feed from the last auto-turret that he had linked to his helmet HUD went dead. He brushed ferrocrete dust from his silver powered armor and stood. "Decurions, get what's left of your platoons together. I want men on the upper floor ready to rain fire on those bastards once they enter the perimeter, and two Cataphracti on the roof to take out the tanks and spot for the rest of us. Let's get a bucket brigade hauling fresh weapons and ammo up here as well. Now move!" The men, still exhausted but heartened somewhat by Severinus' no-nonsense authority, broke up into a flurry of activity as they carried out his orders.

The drive engines on the F-8's began to slowly spin up as the fighters began to move across the tarmac. The four ships that made up the 322nd Arcadian fighter squadron moved out together towards the runway. Explosions erupted across the small airfield as insurgent forces attempted to take control of the base. The Arcadians would have been off faster if they hadn’t taken the time to load their pylons with bombs and rockets. Ground crew had done their best to speed the process along but even so the insurgents managed to breach base defenses before completion. Corners had to be cut and the number four plane went airborne with half its load.

Major Van Nuys watched the republic base burn as he preformed his emergency preflight checklist. Fuel quantity was good, as was oil pressure. The rest of Echo flight reported all green and that’s all Nuys needed, he pushed the throttle all the way in and the fighters lifted off.

The fighter’s let loose several bombs over parts of the base in an effort to assist the defenders and insure it wouldn’t fall to enemy hands. As a result the base was nearly leveled in the process. Nuys never liked the base anyway and was more than happy to move on to another target when a distress signal was picked up from the capital.

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

Echo flight flew right over the armory their engines making a deafening roar. Targeting systems ringed a lock on tone and the pilots let loose their bombs. An inferno erupted along the rows of insurgent troopers as the ancient but deadly substance called 'napalm' by Arcadians, took its toll on the enemy.

The four ship formation flew past leavening the destruction in their wake. Triumphantly the fighters circled their kill, displaying their identity to all those on the ground. Nose art was present on all the fighters green bodies, but most prominently on Nuys jet which featured a golden double headed eagle with the words “Double Ugly”.

(OOC: I apologize, but I will not be finishing this RP. Republican nations have leave to roleplay any Taleedonian peoples, as well as the Sarian rebels should they wish to continue it.)