WFF: Noua Republica Triumfator [PRIVATE, IC]

[Western Pacific Territories]

Important Assets //

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Without Fear or Favor OOC Thread

Placeholder Spot

OP Speaking //

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This is the IC thread for the Without Fear or Favor arc, Noua Republica Triumfator. Relevant information is in the OOC thread.

The Republic of Ciocisna

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In the years immediately after the Calamity, which resulted in the large-scale destruction and ruin of much of the world's powers, including Acasia to a degree, many of the various people living in the eastern parts of the country, as well as various smaller nations like Neresnica, Kruševac and Molbica fled east from the radioactive fallout to find refuge in the mountains of the south-west of the Asmatan Empire. Asmata was able to provide some relief to these refugees, but they quickly became a nuisance, not wanting to leave Asmata's borderlands nor wanting to change their culture and religion to those of their new Asmatan rulers.

Over the following centuries, these migrants have become quite the political issue. Up to the early 100s A.C. they couldn't return home, since Acasia was much too plagued by food shortage, warlordism and the collapse of the government system to be inhabitable compared to the stability of Asmata. By the time Acasia had 'recovered' though, the region was a home to all the various descendants of the refugees. From this point onwards, the conflict would only escalate. Asmata and Acasia both had good reasons for wanting control of this border region: For Acasia, their border started where the mountains began, and this gave Asmata geographic superiority in any war. For Asmata, the edge of the mountains were the entrance into the Asmatan heartland, and couldn't be breached further. Compounded by centuries of ethnic, religious and nationalistic rhetoric, the region is now a hotbed of tension ready to explode at any moment, and at this point, nobody knows who is in the right. The only option is war.

In the borderlands themselves, their Acasian and Kostoljak inhabitants worked to change their political situation, while remaining in their homeland. Secession from Asmata: just about the only thing they could agree on. The foreign populace of this remote border province were united in their desire to rid themselves of the Asmatans, but were in nothing else. Divided into all sorts of monarchist, communist, fascist, conservative and ethnic based groups, they can never achieve anything on their own. Some wanted to become Acasian, others wanted to be independent, and some groups even stateless entirely.

And into this situation enters the Bilateral Alliance Treaty. In May of last year, 391 A.C., Acasia signed a secret alliance with Euphemie, one of the world's foremost superpowers. This alliance has since been made public, and Acasia now prepares to leverage it against Asmata. Under the rule of President Drahoslav Avramescu, the province of Ciocisna is sure to be Acasian!

[Western Pacific Territories]

Hasilshahr, Asmata
April 9, 392 A.C.

The last year was certainly eventful, but it was going to look like nothing compared to this year. That was what Jan Barladeanu had resolved recently, and he intended on fulfilling his aims. Being a member of Acasia’s D.I.E.^[1] embedded in the region, his task was a pretty simple one. The independence movement in the Asmatan border region was quite popular, but the people were divided quite heavily on what should happen once the territory, Ciocisna^[2], stopped being Asmatan. His job was to bring popular support towards reunification with Acasia. Well, it wasn’t really reunification, but the situation that had brought about the presence of Acasians in Ciocisna was much too difficult to summarize. He also had another job, which he sometimes enjoyed more than doing PR campaigns. Sometimes, to stir dissent and provoke the Asmatans, he got to shoot at them. Asmatan troops were based in the region, for rather obvious reasons, and occasionally shooting at them helped set things off.

Today, though, was a rather special day. Four gentlemen from the Presidential Order of Patriotism^[3], two of whom interestingly appeared to be from a backwater named Siedunland. Judging from the briefing, they were just here with him because they were going to be operating here alot more in the future, and the powers that be decided they should start with an easy operation. It was a two part plan: Two of the more militant Acasians in the town of Hasilshahr, name change enforced a few years ago, had gotten caught on some unspecified business and they were going to be arrested soon. They needed to get out of the region and back to Acasia, was the main mission. However, there was also the always present side mission of taking potshots at soldiers whenever the agent wanted.

The mission so far was uneventful, they had taken a truck and were now entering Hasilshahr, where Jan’s two men were. Their houses were already pointed out to him, and the town was small. For security purposes, everyone was only carrying pistols and if everything went to plan, they wouldn’t need them. Of course though, they wouldn’t.

Pulling up to the first target’s house, Jan, being the driver, simply stepped out and knocked on the front door. Waiting a few seconds for an answer, someone opened the door: the first target. Jan leaned in to tell him the bad news, whispering. “I got tipped off that the Asmies’ caught you and your friend trading guns last night. They’re gonna send police ‘n get you and your friend, you gotta get out of town man, get in!” The other man seemed confused. “Then why didn’t they just-” he said, being interrupted. “Let’s go!” Jan stated.

Acknowledging the threat, the man hopped into the back of the truck. Driving now to the other side of town, as soon as Jan turned the corner onto the second man’s street, he realized it was too late. “Shit, cops!” he said, stopping the truck. Trying to back it up and turn around, it seemed he’d already attracted attention from one of them. “What are you doing, stop!” he shouted. Most Acasians didn’t speak Asmatan, so the soldiers had to learn the language.

“Grab your guns, this is gonna kickoff,” Jan stated to those riding in the back behind him. Pulling his pistol out, he raised it up and pointed it at the cop. Realizing what was happening, the cop pulled out his gun as well. Jan fired his shot, which barely missed the cop’s head. There were a few nods of assent from the two Euphemians in the fireteam as they prepared for the assault.

However though, it seemed the Asmatan cop had an unnaturally good aim. Drawing his gun, he fired a shot at Jan, putting a clean shot into the left side of his chest, near his shoulder. Clutching over and ducking under the cover of the dashboard, Jan realized how unlucky he had been. The cop had just put a nearly fatal shot into him, and he certainly wasn’t going to be driving, or doing anything really.

The other two Patriotic Order operators reacted by taking a series of shots at the Asmatan police officers, which was met with little success as they sought cover amid crates and boxes. Two of the spooks, both of whom were rather mysterious figures from Siedunland that got along well, fared better, putting two holes into the cop’s chest, leaving only two 5-0’s.

One of them, a certain Turmenistanian-Marinian by the name of Kool I-Just-Called-to-Say-I-Love-You M. Thompson-Marat, suddenly recoiled in pain, clutching his right shoulder. The Asmatans were certainly formidable shots. Trying to return fire, he missed yet again — though his partner, Lana Union-of-the-Snake Here-Comes-the-Rain-Again K.C.V. Hartman, was a far better shot. One could expect such marksmanship from someone who'd spent most of her life on Euphemie's northern border with Aenara. Word was, she'd killed a good few Aenaran soldiers in her youth.

The last cop took a shoot at one of the Siedunlanders, specifically, the medic attached with this unit of the Presidential Orders finest. Grunting from the sudden rush of pain, he kept his head down while the shooting continued.

Kool and Lana continued firing at the policemen ahead, and — culminating in a collective sigh of relief — the latter had managed to drop the last one. With an agonized grunt, he tumbled over onto the dirt road, clutching his chest.

"Fucking finally." Lana muttered, wiping sweat from her forehead as she reloaded her Hesperian-made MIC-10 submachine gun. The engagement would, in the worst case scenario, alert the local law enforcement to the disappearance of two rather well-trained officers. The Order's specialty was, of course, preparing for the worst of circumstances.

“Shit…” Jan muttered. “I’m hurt, badly, can one y’all get me wrapped up? Police service isn’t very widespread round here, though usually the army’s the sort that handles that sorta thing.”

The Siedunlander medic went to work, dragging Jan out of the cab and having him sit up against one of the back tires. While he worked to apply bandages and stop the bleeding, the sound of a rather large diesel engine approached from the west. It’s source came into view, as an MRAP, dust cloud behind it, drove up to the end of the street Jan had driven up, and stopped.

"Shit! Get to cover!" The officer, Kool I-Just-Called-to-Say-I-Love-You M. Thompson-Marat, kicked down the door of an adjacent house, barreling inside.

Nelson, the group’s medic, and Jan were both too preoccupied to run into a house, but he picked up Jan and tossed him into the truck’s bed, then climbed in, hoping to use the truck as protection while he continued patching up Jan.

The other Siedunlander happened to be carrying AT, specifically, Cairns. On him, he had a Intercharge Model 308 Recoilless Rifle^[4], 57mm. It was rather small, but should be able to deal with an MRAP like the one they were facing alright. Peeking from behind the truck, he, being able to fire the RR on a shoulder mount, took aim and fired at the middle of the MRAP, scoring a hit. The other Euphemians took their shots, managing to take down two of the RT’s^[5] that had come to take care of them.

The Remaining RT officers quickly returned fire, in an attempt to organize themselves after initial ambush upon them with an AT weapon. Fakhir, the lead RT, gestured towards his men to form two column formations with a shield man capping the fronts. “Move up quickly, surprise them and don’t let back, these bastards will pay for their insolence.” He shouted over the sound of gunfire.

As the left column was moving up they came under fire from the assailants up ahead causing the shield man to stop and crouch, behind him a shooter used the shield to cover his lower body as he took a shot at one of the Siedunlanders. The officer gently flicked the trigger of his BR-81⁶ sending a fatal shot into the man’s neck causing him to fall to the ground and choke to his death. He quickly switched targets to the other Siedunlander pulling his trigger a second time, however, the man was lucky as the shot hit him in the upper chest area merely wounding him.

The right column moved up to flank as the two men on their side were neutralized by the other RT officers. Fakhir patted the shieldman in front of him causing him to kneel with his shield. “Alright boys let them have it.” Yelled Fakhir over his radio. His order was swiftly followed up as all the RT officers opened up on the positions of the militants up ahead.

Under the suppressive cover of his men Fakhir grabbed a grenade off his chest rig, pulling the pin and holding down the safety latch before tossing it over at the militants position. A small explosion soon followed along with screams and grunts. The RT officers moved up cautiously to the position as incoming fire had stopped.

Fakhir peered over behind his shieldman and scanned the scene. He counted three militants dead and two wounded. “You guys go secure the perimeter.” He motioned to the other RT officers. He needed to make things right for the Asmatan men killed today.

Reaching down he unlatched the holster for his handgun and raised it out of the holster before walking over to one of the wounded survivors. “Fuck you!!” He muttered before pulling the trigger on his handgun.