The occupation of Moukere (TWI only) (tg app)

[Bhikkustan]

This is the thread for roleplaying the occupation of Moukere by Bhikkustan. Do not post unless you have been accepted.

Map
http://m.imgur.com/qnmev2y

Land
Zuun 4
Sahara Khan

Sahara moved over the ground, dashing past a large tree with bullet holes scored across the side. A bullet grazed over her helmet, and she dived for cover behind a thorny bush. Ahead, where the forest was most dense several militants were manning a machine gun and cutting down her fellow men. She raised her rifle, and spat fire into the tribesmen. She heard a scream and one of them fell to the ground, blood spurting from his neck. Another Bhikkustani threw a grenade, and the remaining militants fled back, deeper into the forest.

Sea
Sunrise, frigate in the Bhikkustani Navy
Captain Ariha

Captain Ariha gazed out over Vertaque, the capital of Moukere. There was smoke rising from several parts, especially in the western side past the river.

A message crackled over the box, "Coordinates 12,45. Strike requested."

He nodded subtly, before turning to his aide Hannu. "Prepare missiles for launch," he commanded, before turning towards a computer screen. He looked at the satellite images, and sure enough there was an enemy defensive emplacement. Three T-56 tanks were situated defending a hill emplacement. It was holding back the Bhikkustani forces, as the tank divisions were yet to be deployed.

"Missiles ready," Hannu called out from the other side of the bridge. Ariha smiled.

"Fire now!" He shouted, and Five missiles fired from the missile emplacements of the Frigate. Ariha watched the screen, and saw the missiles streak down on the enemy positions. A quick flash of red, and they were gone.

"Target down," he said into the Vox.

[To Quoc Duc]

Camp Lotus, Tổ Quốçi Army base
Vertaque, Moukere


When Lieutenant Colonel Lê Tấn Sang had been selected to lead Operation Lotus, he had been overjoyed. The first military operation beyond Tổ Quốçi soil in the country's history had been entrusted to him. It was a great honor, a great responsibility, and selfishly perhaps Sang realized that it would all but guarantee his rise to flag rank as a general officer. Sang's family were quite well connected in Tổ Quốçi society, and his military career had certainly benefited from that fact. Sang liked to believe, however, that his competence had been what gained him this position, beyond the politics and nepotism of family connections. Despite this hope, he knew that most likely his family's prominence had played more of a role in his superiors choice in him than his already stellar military career.

As he stood over the bodies of his fallen soldiers, entombed in steel coffins draped with the Tổ Quốçi flag of white and blue, he questioned whether he truly wanted this command after all. No soldiers under Sang's command had ever died before. Indeed, no unit under his command had even been in combat. The insurgency, if one could really call it that, by the National Liberation Front had not been relevant in years and few serving had ever been in combat with them. He had occasionally wondered what it would be like to be standing in this position, looking at the bodies of those whom he had sent to their deaths, but had always believed he was able to steel himself against emotion sufficiently. Now that the bodies were before him, he realized that he was mistaken. His executive officer, Major Liêm Anh, stood beside him in silence.

'Sir,' Major Anh said after several minutes had passed, 'there was nothing you could have done. This is just war.'

Sang sighed. 'Yes, major, I know. That does not change the fact that the lives of these men were entrusted to me, and yet I failed to keep them safe.'

'They will not be the last, sir,' Anh replied, darkly. 'But it is necessary.'

'Yes, Major,' Sang replied. 'It is most certainly necessary.' The two men turned to leave the hangar in which the bodies were displayed, awaiting the A400M cargo plane which would bring them home to their families, and their burial.

Exiting the hangar, the two men were met with the intense heat of the Moukiri sun at mid-day. It was only their second day in Moukere, and while Tổ Quốçis were used to the heat of their own country, the dry desert was a great change from the humid jungles of Tổ Quốc Đức. Sweat poured from their brows and formed dark stains on their uniforms under their arms. Sang wiped several beads from his eyes and turned to his executive officer, who said

‘The Bhikkustanis fired missiles into Vertaque at the Huyki positions earlier.’

‘That sounds counter-productive, doesn’t it? How much collateral damage is reported from the city?’

Anh shrugged. ‘Difficult to say, sir. They haven’t sent us a battle damage assessment.’

‘Hell,’ Sang chuckled, ‘do you really think they performed one?’

‘I seriously doubt it, sir,’ Anh admitted. ‘However, they’ve so far shown comparative restraint up to this point, largely keeping their fire from civilian areas.’

‘Hopefully they keep it that way,’ Sang said. ‘Tribal conflict or not, we don’t want to turn the friendly militias against us too.’ With that, the two men continued their walk across the airfield of Camp Lotus, the Tổ Quốçi military encampment set up around an abandoned airport outside of Vertaque towards the battalion Tactical Operations Center (TOC).

The TOC was a large Quonset hut built deep inside Camp Lotus’ perimeter, believed to be outside the effective range of mortar fire from Huyki insurgents. Inside was spacious, a semi-circular building with a high roof and a metal floor, with gray steel walls. The support personnel of the 3rd battalion’s Headquarters and Headquarters Company (HHC) scurried about, busily establishing the various networks and systems necessary for running the Tổ Quốçi part of the peacekeeping effort. The men of the HHC had been working through the night to ready the TOC for full functionality and readiness to begin security and stability operations as soon as possible.

Major Hoàng Ngô, battalion S2 (Intelligence) stood behind a group of four tired looking soldiers attempting to set up a series of computers on a gunmetal gray table, while Major Nguyễn Duẩn Thi the S3 (Operations) poured over a map of Moukere with several subordinates, the content of their discussion drowned out by the noise of the busy hut. There were other men, important to the Operation Lotus mission, but Majors Ngô and Thi were without question the most important in the immediate.

Sang approached Ngô first, tapping his shoulder causing the major to look to his right and smile.

‘Hello sir,’ he said warmly, ‘my guys will have the information systems up soon.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Sang replied, returning Ngô’s smile.

‘I apologize for it taking this long, we’ve been having trouble establishing satellite connections here unfortunately, but Corporal Nguyễn here,’ he said, patting the soldier on the head, ‘has turned into quite the computer genius. It’ll all be up soon.’

‘No problem, Major, I’m sure you’re working as fast as you can,’ Sang said, nodding. Changing the subject, Sang asked, ‘Any reports for me?’

‘Sir, I took the liberty of moving our scout platoon to creep around the area the Huyki withdrew to after yesterday’s firefight,’ Ngô said. ‘So far they haven’t turned up anything but tracks left after the rebels withdrew. Should I tell them to continue hunting?’

‘Yes,’ Sang replied, nodding. ‘We need to locate the Huyki encampments and send them to the Bhikkustanis to bomb.’

‘Very well sir,’ Ngô replied. ‘The scout platoon’s Bionix IFVs are holding back while the Stryker reconnaissance vehicles are performing their scans. I’ll let you know as soon as we turn anything up.’

‘Ngô,’ Sang said, ‘if you find anything while I’m not in this TOC, I authorize you to pass that information on to Thi or Major Anh here immediately, to be sent to the Bhikkustanis. Once the target is confirmed as valid, of course.’ Ngô nodded, his understanding of the order, and Sang turned from him to take position in front of the main computer network’s battle management system.

From this series of computer monitors, Sang was able to see the position of all of his units as blue square icons with a variety of symbols denoting their function in real time. He could see the scout platoon moving steadily south-west, deeper into the bush and towards the enemy’s main force. He knew the scout platoon’s leader, Lieutenant Nguyễn Tấn Trọng, was a smart and competent platoon leader, if inexperienced. Sang imagined him, sitting in the command position of his Bionix IFV, coordinating the Strykers and eager to locate the Huyki rebels. Sang also wondered if, recognizing the relative weakness of the unit he commanded and being so far from support, if he was afraid.

Sang continued watching the blue icon for a moment before switching to see the various green icons moving about the map. The Bhikkustanis had agreed to upload themselves into the Tổ Quốçi network for better coordination, and as a result Sang was able to watch their movements in real time as well. Many of the green units were centered around the capital, just as the Tổ Quốçis were, but some had begun pressing against the river which lay just outside the city. Sang knew that the Bhikkustanis must be pressing the attack against the rebels still clinging to the outskirts of Vertaque, and wondered inwardly how the operation was going. The continual movement of the green squares denoted that they were gaining ground and making progress, but until the communications officer was able to set up a firm direct link to his Bhikkustani counter-part, Sang would have no real means of knowing precisely what was happening as it unfolded without getting on the radio and working his way through their own chain of command. It was inefficient and time consuming, and certainly less than ideal. He sincerely hoped that it would be resolved quickly.

Sang reclined in his chair and drew a Regencian cigar from his uniform’s front pocket. He’d cut it earlier and withdrew a lighter, lighting the end and taking a full drag before exhaling the acrid smoke in a long plume. There was very little which Sang could do at this time. Until all systems were operational, and his scout platoon had located the enemy forces, all he could do was enjoy this cigar, and wait.

[Bhikkustan]

Land
Zuun 4
Sahara Khan


The sun rose above Moukere, bringing with it the promise of more bloodshed. Sahara woke in her cramped tent, crammed in with three other soldiers who got up at the same time. The night had been wet and hot. Rain had teemed down, and the atmosphere in camp had been less than pretty. Their tents brought scant respite, but by morning everyone, and everything, was completely soaked. She got up slowly, groaning at the exertion. She had run fifteen kilometres, in full battle dress, through sporadic combat and dense forest. The Zuun got up, and began to assemble in front of the command tent. the commanders weren't wet, she noticed pedantically, before putting the notion out of her mind. It was disrespectful to her commanders, that sort of thought.

They set off towards Himora, the capial of the Huyki Province. Taking this city would press the combat into a better position. There were 100 men (and women) in her Zuun, the equivalent of a platoon in the Bhikkustani Army. They mounted into their transports, and began to drive down the dirt road. Several times she heard bullets ricochet off the thick armour plating, but these were inevitably cut short by the bark of a machine gun. An hour later, they reached their destination. They poured out the back of the transports, and into a living hell. Bullets poured from the forest, from the walls, from everywhere. The mud was stained red with blood. Her view was obstructed by the clouds of smoke. She raised her gun, and fired a staccato burst towards the enemy positions, but she couldn't tell if she hit. Still she ran forwards, through the fire and blood. After what seemed like an eternity she made it to cover, and dived inside a small shack. She got out her Comms-link, and radioed in to base. "This is Zuun 4, we need backup now. We are at Himora. I repeat, we need backup."

The guns continued to fire, and she got no response. She called to base, and to the To quoc duc soldiers. "We need backup. This is Zuun 4. We need backup."

[To Quoc Duc]

Camp Lotus, Tổ Quốçi Army base
Vertaque, Moukere


Lieutenant Colonel Lê Tấn Sang had woken up before the dawn, as was his custom. After rising from the smallish cot, and stretching away the inevitable creaks and tenseness from both age and a subpar nights rest from the uncomfortable bedding, he dropped to the floor to crank out his morning fitness routine. One hundred push ups were performed with ease, followed by another hundred situps. Perspiration had barely begun to crease his brow, but the routine kept his body firm. At home he would indulge in To Quoc Tai Chi at dawn after this morning ritual, and conclude with a run, though here in Camp Lotus following this routine in its entirety was impossible.

For seventeen years Sang had performed essentially the same act each and every day, even to the extent of putting on his clothes in the same order and diligent attention. His uniform sat folded on the seat of a metal chair. Sang grabbed his jacket and slid his arms into the sleeves over his white undershirt, and proceeded to button up the front. Afterwards he sat back down on the cot to pull on his trousers, socks, and boots who's strings he yanked tightly and double knotted. This task completed, he sat for another moment, hands placed on his thighs to arch and stretch his back one more time, before standing and turning to the tent's entry way.

Sang's quarters were in the midst of a growing tent city, with a population of nearly 1,200 men from his 3rd battalion. He pulled back the green nylon flap which served as a 'door way' into his tent, and saw dozens of men moving about quickly, a look of dutiful purpose in their tired eyes. As Sang stepped out of the tent and placed his boot into the dry, sandy ground the heat which had kept him awake most of the night was cooled slightly by the presence of a gentle breeze. He savored the feeling for a moment, knowing the relief from the oppressive furnace that was Moukere would be fleeting.

The Tactical Operations Center was located near by for his convenience, and after a short walk he was entering the metal Quonset hut where he was greeted by the XO, Major Anh. For as long as the major had served under Sang, he had always left base before, and returned after, Anh, leaving Sang to wonder if the man ever actually slept. Sang had never queried into Anh's apparently insomnia, preferring to believe that the man was an inhuman, sleepless machine rather than know the more likely, mundane truth.

'Good morning, sir,' Anh said cheerily, looking up from a computer screen. 'Nothing new to report, the region's been quiet all night.'

'Thank you, Major,' Sang replied, still groggy from his restless sleep. After a moment's thought, Sang asked, 'So no updates from the scout platoon?'

'No, sir,' Anh replied. 'They set up a lager for the night and bivouacked. They've had people on the radio all night sending in status updates every hour. You just missed their last one so they're still fine, were supposed to be moving out shortly.'

'Cool,' Sang said. Turning to the S2, Major Ngô, dutifully at his now configured and functioning computer network, Sang asked, 'What do we have from the Bhikkustanis? Anything new?'

'As a matter of fact, yes, sir,' Ngô replied, pushing his thin glasses up on his face as he spoke. Ngô looked the part of the intelligence officer, thin and wiry of build, with the bookish appearance of more professor than soldier. Ngô was, despite his appearance, extremely competent and good at his job of managing the intelligence information and assets of the battalion. Continuing after a momentary pause, Ngô said, 'About an hour ago, they started a mad dash into Huyki territory.'

'What is there objective, Major?'

'They're trying to seize control of Himora, sir, the tribal region's capital city.' Moving across the room towards the operations interface, Sang stood behind a soldier watching the battle management network and saw one green square rapidly, as far as the system was concerned, into Huyki territory.

'Is this correct, sergeant?' Sang asked the man at the computer. The S3, Major Thi, walked from the large paper map in the center of the room to the desk before the sergeant could answer.

'Yes, sir, it seems they've sent a single 'Zuun', what they consider a platoon but would be about a half company to us.'

'Why so small a unit?' Sang asked. 'Do we have any word from them?'

'Not sure, sir,' Thi replied, 'they haven't made us aware of their plans in doing so. All the same, my staff has readied Bravo company to serve as a rapid deployment force in case we're needed.'

'Good job people,' Sang said. 'I have a feeling one of their commanders might have gotten a bit too ambitious. Okay, well keep me updated as to what they're doing. I'll contact their command later and see what we can do to be useful beyond patrolling Vertaque.' The men nodded and proceeded back to their stations.


Bravo Company HHC, Camp Lotus
Vertaque, Moukere

Private Nguyễn Chánh Dinh had been in Moukere for three days now. The novelty of being on foreign shores had initially been exciting, Dinh had never even left Tổ Quốçi soil before his conscription into the army. The initial firefight against the Huyki rebels had been exciting, at least to him, as his unit had not actually seen any combat during that engagement, but the promise of action had been enticing. This was no longer the case.

Now, Dinh was simply bored.

After arrival at Vertaque and Tổ Quốçi establishment of Camp Lotus, most of their time had been spent constructing the camp, building fortifications, or simply sitting around doing nothing. Dinh was unsure what he was expecting with this deployment, but this certainly wasn’t it. Dinh was unsure if he had delusions of grandeur or not, knowing that this was at least ostensibly a peacekeeping deployment, but he had imagined that there would be some kind of activity beyond just holding in the camp.

The rest of his squad held similar feelings. The eight of them currently sat around a rice cooker in one of the platoon tents, waiting for their evening meal while they vented their frustration and boredom to one another.

‘This fucking sucks,’ Dinh said with a sigh. ‘Are we ever going to do anything except stay on this damned base?’

‘Doesn’t seem like it,’ answered his friend, Thuy. ‘You know, when we got here I thought we were going to be doing something good.’ Everyone chuckled. ‘No, seriously! I was thinking when we got here we’d help the Moukeri people. But all we’ve done is sit on base while there’s a genocide happening not twenty miles away. It’s stupid.’

Private Phong, typically quiet and reserved, spoke up saying, ‘I agree, I just wish we could be doing something.’ Everyone nodded their agreement. Everyone liked Phong, his quiet nature not being viewed as eccentric. The squad simply felt he only spoke when there was something to say.

As if on cue, Corporal Đăng Văn Đôn appeared and stuck his head in the tent flap, saying, ‘Phong holy shit, you actually speak?’ The squad laughed while Phong smirked slightly, adjusting his wireframe glasses. ‘Well, your wish has been granted. We’re moving out.’ Everybody was stunned.

‘Corporal, what’s going on?’ Dinh asked.

‘I’m not completely sure,’ Đôn confessed. ‘We’re supposed to get a radio briefing en route. Get to the assembly area in five. Grab your gear and get moving people.’ With that, the corporal left.

‘Well, I’ll be,’ Thuy said, turning to grab his kit back and light machine gun. ‘Looks like we’re going to get to do something today after all.’

‘Maybe they could’ve waited till after dinner though,’ Dinh sighed, grabbing his assault bag and making the other soldiers laugh. Suddenly, a slight nervousness rippled its way through Dinh’s gut. He had thought he was ready, even wanted, this order to move out. Now that he received it though, the implications began running through his mind. Would he see terrible scenes of violence committed against civilians they were too late to save? Would he have to care for a family who’s home had just been burned by Huyki rebels? Would he be forced to kill someone? More importantly, was he ready to do so?

Private First Class Dinh, a trained soldier of the To Quoci Army, didn’t know.

The group of soldiers hurried towards the assembly area where four K31 Infantry Fighting Vehicles waited for them, engines running, and Corporal Đôn beside the open rear hatch. Đôn ushered the soldiers into the troop compartment, where each soldier sat on the hard metal seat, buckling the four point harness. Đôn entered last, fastening himself into a seat directly before a fifteen inch display, which flickered to life and showed the location of the other three K31s, as well as the terrain and topographic features around them.

‘Red Lotus Six-two Actual, this is Red Lotus Two-Three, performing comms check as requested,’ Đôn said, into a microphone bead attached to his helmet. The men could hear an affirmative from Lieutenant Trương Cung Sinh, their platoon leader. ‘Affirmative, Two-three is ready to roll, sir.’ Their company commander, Captain Phúc Độ, had adopted ‘Red’ as his color call sign as all subordinate companies of the battalion were assigned ‘Lotus’ as their post-nominal call sign designator. First company was ‘Blue’ and third had adopted ‘White’. The battalion commander was obviously ‘Lotus Six’, making Six-Two refer to the second (Bravo) company. The lieutenant, in one of the other K-31 IFVs, continued to speak though Dinh was unable to hear exactly what was said. Corporal Đôn simply repeated, ‘Understood’ and ‘Affirmative’ to signify that, whatever the lieutenant was saying, the young squad leader understood the directive.

Corporal Đôn was unusual, in that typically a squad was commanded by a sergeant. However, their previous squad leader had left the army shortly before the operation began and before a replacement could be found, making Đôn the senior enlisted person of the third squad, and squad leader by default. Well liked by his men, Đôn’s assumption of control was welcomed by his men who viewed him as a fair and sensible leader.

Turning from his screen, Đôn looked at the men in the troop compartment, saying, ‘The Bhikkustanis attacked into Moukeri territory and are taking heavy fire. We’re going in to help them out. Apparently the entire company is moving in on this.’ Dinh looked to his left at his friend Thuy. They exchanged nervous glanced before looking back to their squad leader. Đôn, however had finished speaking and turned back to the battle management display. At that moment, the K-31’s engine revved and they began moving. Without viewing ports in the carrier, and the internal compartment lights shut off, the battle management display was the only source of light. It cast ominous shadows across the interior, but Dinh was thankful. At least the growing fear he felt would not be seen.

Dinh retreated into his thoughts, focusing on his knowledge that he would be expected to do his duty for his country, and his friends. Furthermore, the Bhikkustanis were allies of his country and they were in trouble, they needed help and his company would be the ones to do it. These thoughts gave him pride, he knew there was much honor in this. He could not, however, shake the fear, and was unsure whether to recognize that this was normal, or to be ashamed.

Turning to Thuy, Dinh whispered, ‘Well, we’re finally doing something!’ the two exchanged the short laugh born of nervousness and thinly veiled attempts to conceal the fear which both were feeling. It was to be a relatively long journey, two hours, made to feel all the longer with the knowledge that gunfire, violence, and perhaps death, awaited them at its conclusion.

(OOC: I have my combat part written, but I figured it'd make more sense of you continued it from here for the initial engagement. Assume during your post that we pull up. The forces being sent are a mechanized infantry company, so 16 K-31s (basically a lighter version of the Korean K-21 IFV), 4 KW1 Scorpions (A 6x6 wheeled vehicle with 30mm cannons and 7.62 FN Mag machineguns), and about 165 troops).