Of Dust and Blood- Civil War- MAASTRICHT region-Closed

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
User avatar
Posts: 98
Founded: Sep 16, 2009
Capitalist Paradise

Of Dust and Blood- Civil War- MAASTRICHT region-Closed

Postby Simallia » Fri May 14, 2021 12:26 am

Simallian coastal waters-4:00am local time

"Check the ropes..."
"The ropes are good. Charges?"
"Good to go."
"I see it!... Looks like 200 meters and losing"
Right! Brothers! Allahhak guides our hands and our bullets. This ship will likely be filled with food and weapons bound for Artisani. If we take this ship either we get the ransom or we keep the ship either way we will eating good tonight!"
"May he protect us." (Racks a round into the chamber of his aging AK-47 rifle)

With a few flashes of a flashlight 4 heavily patched boats started their engines and made their way to the approaching Valkyreian cargo ship that was attempting to navigate the tricky waters around the Simallian island. The splashing of the cool ocean water gave a chill to the young, malnourished fighters who looked onward with the steely gaze of determination. Their hopes of a brighter tomorrow hinged on the successful seizing of that ship- a ship they knew without a doubt would be filled with Valkyreian merchant marines ready to defend their cargo. As they got closer to the hulking mass of steel tens of large flood lights came to life and began to scan the murky mud colored water and foam attempting to discover the source of the sounds.

"Break! Break!" called out a command over an old walkie talkie causing the 4 boats to separate with two boats continuing on in the straight approach and 2 others approaching via a pincher style maneuver. As the lights continued the scan they eventually found one of the boats. As the light crossed over the crew leveled their weapons and began to send hot lead into the direction of the lights.

All hands! All hands prepare to repel boarders! an announcement blared over the ships intercoms as small pockets of returning fire rang out against the rapidly approaching invaders

"Hooks! Throw the hooks!" called out one of the fighters as their boats ran along side the larger vessel. Teams of fighters continued to exchange fire with the ships security contingent as another launched grappling hooks from a makeshift launcher. As one batch of hooks found real estate another batch and then another and another followed suite. One fighter after another made quick work of the ropes and boarded the ship from various locations, firing wildly at the security personnel killing some and taking other who gave up captive. Others where simply executed as an example to others who would consider resisting. As the deck was secured the dead where thrown over board back to the boats where the vessel captains secured the corpses before detaching and returning to the island to off load the bodies where most would be consumed by the starving serfs to old or two disabled to be active fighters for their resident Warlord. When the fighters approached the bridge tower door they quickly attached breaching charges setting them off and blowing the door clean off of the hull.

Move my brothers! Take the bridge!" calls out a fighter as he takes the lead rushing up the stairs with weapon in hand before being stopped dead by a hail of gunfire spraying his blood against the off white steel wall behind him. As his body fell over others picked it up and used it as a shield to continue forward with some using grenades to clear rooms before stopping at the final door keeping the command officers and the pirates apart.

Hey! This is our ship now! If you open this door I promise we will not kill you! In fact if one of your in there helps turn the ship over to us... I will see them rewarded! exclaims one of the lead fighters as he casually knocks on the steel bulkhead.

From the other side another voice answered back, his voice rough and aged but stern and proud at the same time. You killed my men, and attempt to rob us. What good is the word of a filthy pirate like yourself? I have another suggestion. Go drink salt water until you piss blood and then put a bullet in your own ass." The pirate that once was smiling slowly shifted his smile to a grimace before he slammed his fist into the bulkhead and signally to his men to breach the door. From within the bridge the officer readied weapons for the door was blasted off and the lanky fighters poured into the room exchanging gunfire with the officers. What had started had finished within a single minute and of the 5 officers dead on the floor some 9 fighters laid dead as well. As the lead fighter stepped into the bridge he surveyed the scene and found one of the officers who, while injured was still alive.

Well Well Well.. Looks like we have a fighta here! Tell me tough man... what do you have on this ship? I need to know who to sell it to ha ha ha.

The lone barely conscious officer gasped for breathe pointing lifelessly towards a lone clipboard that held the ships bill of lading and cargo manifest. The fighter took the clip board and smiling showing his broken and rotting teeth. With a round of laughs he handed off the manifest paperwork and took out a single shot signal flare gun and walked out unto the observation deck and fired the lone flare high into the sky signaling to various other smaller boats that had been waiting in the darkness telling them to come and sail home...

The next day...

The humid air of the dilapidated harbor was stagnate and filled with the stench of acrid burnt fuel fumes and sewage that slowly seeped and spilled into the water below. all around the port center the throngs of starving denizens rally around the compound where the newly acquired cargo ship was perilously moored and the surviving crew was tied up and kept within a metal shed with little to no food or water. Meanwhile various armed pirates worked to off load crates of food stuff and weapons and loading them into trucks and sending them into the desert to their new destination. In a nearby shed a few of the pirates could be heard making a rushed and barely intelligibly ransom demand video...

To the nation of Valkyreia. We have taken your ship and we have captured your crew. If you wish to see the crew alive and the ship returned to you we demand that you give to us 100 million USD in cash by pallet and parachute. If you refuse We shall kill the crew and scuttle the ship!

User avatar
Political Columnist
Posts: 2
Founded: Apr 29, 2021
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Valkyreia » Sat May 15, 2021 12:40 am

Halstead, Valkyreia

Eidunn Myren, looked over the briefing given to him. A laptop played a muted video of poor quality on repeat, papers scattered about the desk. It was a mess, yes, but an organized one. The Valyreian Premier had tuned out the drone of his advisors, electing instead to internally process the information. It had been 2 hours since the Rockrose, a cargo freighter, had been captured by Simallian pirates, creating a crisis that had both the public and his own political allies spinning. His advisors had cautioned a leveled response that portrayed initial strength, but ability to see diplomatic reason. It was both preposterous and cowardly, an action he could not let happen.

"Enough." He cut in, silencing the drivel that his advisors had been trying to convince him of. "The nation of Valkyreia does not bow to a group of mongrel dogs, mutts who believe they can leech off our prosperity and people. No, they and all like them will be understand why not to trifle with us. Send a non-committal reply regarding potential payoff, in the meantime get as much intelligence regarding the area as possible. Prepare a strike force, I want those dastards dead."

User avatar
Posts: 98
Founded: Sep 16, 2009
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Simallia » Mon May 17, 2021 9:53 pm

Perched atop the remains of a former colonial corporate highrise was the personal home of Simallian Warlord General Hasom Ibari and defacto ruler of the southern most portion of the island nation. From here he would survey the land before him, pondering on the happenings of the two other Warlords to his northeast and west. Hasom was largely considered to be the lesser of the devils that inhabited the near literal hell that was Simallia. Below him on the ground his men were busy counting crates and barrels of various liquids- mostly fuel, occasionally water. Just beyond the gates to his estate was the shanty town that formed around his hermit kingdom. Horrid little hovels constructed from dry rotted wood and tarps, thrice re-used nails and rusted screws. The people who lived there, if one could call such an existence living, made a living buy scavenging the old burned out wrecks of buildings from nearly 25 years ago and the hulls of technicals and busted tanks. Everything was either repurposed or recycled in some way; but for Hasom- cold sparkling water, fresh cloths, and fresh food. His soldiers also wanted for little though they were still quite impoverished by many world standards many lived in coed barracks, drinking reclaimed sea water from a questionable still that also cooked the local liquor.

As night began to fall Hasom and his upper leadership were about to sit down to dinner when a call on one of the few working phonelines rang through. Hasom glanced around slowly and approached the phone all the same. His mind steeled for news of a possible attack from his rivals. As he took the receiver and placed it to his ear a crackling could be heard along with noises and the sound of baring dogs.

Dis' is Hasom. he said coldly as he reached for a bottle of water. While he had electricity it was from old solar panels on the roof and there wasn't ever enough powered stored up to run an A/C unit. As he listened beads of sweat rolled down his face a voice finally spoke.

Bossman.. Jibb took an outlander ship. Cargo ship... lots of goods. It sits at Toho harbor. They already unloaded most of the smaller stuff, but there are large containers with good locks they are still fighting with. His men have been picking the ship clean and it looks like they are about to move some of it out- most like Tahbutti. I'll send word if something changes.

Hasom's expressionless face slowly cracked a smile as he placed the receiver back on its pedastal. Hasoms leadership sat quitely waiting on what he was told.

Brothers... Allahah has delivered to us a gift... Jibb was a fool and took an outlander ship, but from our whatas. He does not yet know but he is even being so kind as to bring us the booty of the ship to us, but we have to go and pick it up... In Tahbutti.

The men started to stir... Tahbutti was close, but was most definantly Jibb Haram's territory.

Bossman, even if we got and take what is ours... Haram will fight back. cautioned one of his oldest advisors. The others nodded slowly looking amongst themselves. Hasom felt a pang of anger as he watched the cowardice infect his men.

Heeey! You talk like old fat men! Are you so scared that you will lose your crumbs? HE STOLE FROM ME... IM MY WATAS You think I wont kill everyone of him and his for what is mine?!

His men adjusted themselves on their lujos, a floor pillow kind of chair, When one of the younger jumped up and took hold of his rifle, his face brimming with determination. Me and mine will go bossman. One by one the others did the same. Hasom laughed and rubbed the first mans head before pushing him away and gesturing for them to go. One by one the men ran as fast as they could outside going to their respective muster points. The muffled sounds of his men calling out on bullhorns were only barely recognizable. Soon hundreds of improvised battle vehicles came to life as their crews ensured they had plenty of muntions and water. The rattling sounds of loose rounds filled the air as passengers filled their magazines with what they could find. Line by line the columns of technicals rolled out leaving a thick cloud of dust in their wakes followed by the thunderous noise of 5 choppers with haphazardly installed weapons systems taking off from what used to be a large packing lot tailing the trucks.

3 hours later appraoching Tahbutti

It was in the early morning hours when Hasom's forces entered the city perimeter and began opening fire of what looked like guard posts. The sound of heavy machine guns and unguided rockets filled the night air. Streams of tracers lanced back and forth across confirmed positions where guards returned fire oftentimes pulverizing the makeshift barricades of broken concrete and sandstone made from mud. The huddled masses living in their own shanty huts discovered their walls where ignored by the incoming fire as rounds torn through flesh and bone of the young, old and innocent. Rocket fire pummeled the few buildings still standing occasionally sparking fires from fuel storage points.

As the return fire subsided Hasom's men entered the city proper where his fighters dismounted from their trucks and began clearing out pockets of resistance. Others sought to claim the spoils of battle. Rover bands of fighters filled the shanty town and began looting all they could find. Food, water, basic medicine... slaves, before the men took their turns with the young and old women of the city, oftentimes killing their husbands if they tried to protect their wives honor.

Heeey! You can have your fun... AFTER you find bossman's prize. called out one of the unit leaders from his command truck over his bullhorn. Slowly the men returned to their trucks filling them with the spoils they took. The drivers, youngest of the crews, spent their time scavenging for fuel and potential additional armor from wrecks in the area. In one of the tents set up for the commanders wounded opposition fighters where lashed to metal poles with batteries attached on only one node.

Heeey! I know your bossman knocked over a ship and is sending supplies to this city. My bossman wants to see that those supplies go to their rightful owners. When is the trucks supposed to arrive? asked one of the commanders

The wounded men began talking wildly most saying they knew nothing of supplies or a convey. All except one who seemed to be trying to not draw attention to himself. You! the commander said pointing a knife at his face. You know don't you? The Fighter said nothing but lowered his head.

You a good soldier for not wanting to talk. But your tight lips (He signals the batteries ) will only get them killed. With a finger flip the other nodes of the batteries were attached shocking the others. Their screams filled the tent. The fighter looked away from his comrades in shame. So? Tell me what I want to know and they wont have to suffer anymore. The fighter looked back over at the tortured comrades and began to talk.

They are supposed to get here at sunrise... from the west highway.

The commander smiled and cut the fighter loose before ordering his men to kill the rest. Meanwhile their bodies where stripped and added to a massive pile where a few men where butchering them and packing the flesh into drums of salt, The spared fighter was chained and walked around with the commander like a trophy. You know... You could fight for me. For the winning side.. The fighter looked back at the ground before responding How can you trust me?. The Commander smiled and wiped sweat off his face. Because I spared your life. Your smart enough to know killing me wont save you or bring those men back to life and it you dont accept my offer then your going to die soon enough anyways. In short serving me means you survive.

The fighter thought it over in his head and could find no logical reason to say no. Then I fight for you and yours. he said before kneeling. The commander smiled and gestured to have his chains removed and his cloths returned to him. Good... now get your rifle and find a truck crew to join.

As the fighter left a scout came rushing in with the latest reports. Commander... The convey was spotted about 2 hours away. 10 large trucks with trailers, 20 armed with light armor. The commander pondered for a second before giving his orders.

Have our trucks exit the city and find cover in the dunes off the road. Have the men posted here and here (while pointing at a map) I want snipas here here and here. When I give the order have them kill the from trucks driver and the rear trucks driver. After that have the men open fire on the armed trucks try not to destroy them. If we must I will call in air support, but I want to capture the armed trucks as well if we can.

The subordinate nodded and exited the tent to deliver the orders.

2 hours later

As the desert sun began to rise of the dusted dunes the convey of trucks crested a hill flanked on either side by murky mirages formed by the early morning heat. Flanking the road fighters gripped their rifles and wiped the sweat from their brows. Then suddenly a flare fires off from behind the convey and the report of sniper rifles rang out with some trucks being redecorated with the spray of blood and skull fragments causing some to drive off the road and other to crash into the ones beside them. The fighters on the flanks rose over the dunes and opened fire on the armed trucks killing the gunners on the back. Those that survived the initial attack returned fire cutting the approaching fighters down by removing chucks of flesh and bone. Despite their efforts however the battle was already decided. As the final enemy fighters were gunned down and the trucks secured.

The victorious commander rolled onto the scene as his men celebrated the victory. The drivers of the tractor trailer trucks were brought before him hand bound behind them.

You have a choice! You can either die right now... or you can drive those trucks to Hasom Ibari. You have 5 seconds.

Before the commander could get to 2 all of the drivers agreed to drive the trucks with little fuss. The commander took out a radio from his glove compartment and sent word back to the chopper unit that they had successfully captured the cargo and it was time to return home.

User avatar
Political Columnist
Posts: 2
Founded: Apr 29, 2021
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Valkyreia » Sat May 22, 2021 3:45 pm

Halstead, Valkyreia

In reaction to the aptly named “Freighter Crisis'', Premier Eidunn Myren ordered the redirection of all Valkyreian trade vessels away from Simallian waters. The Premier’s stance on the issue was that of a militant hardliner. In a statement to the public he stated that there were no clear hostages or demands of ransom from the pirates and that the Federal Union “does not negotiate with the barbaric dregs of a war torn land”, but made reference to his administration’s research into the matter of a possible ransom.

Privately, the Premier’s staff did as ordered and reached out to the pirates to try and extract more information. They intended to gain the location of the drop-zone for the palette that would contain the ransom money.

Simallian Maritime Boundary

All while Myren played political games with the public, the Maritime Defense Force quietly made their own moves. Per a direct order from the Premier, the nearby Carrier Strike Group 3 sailed for Simallian waters after a link-up with a nearby amphibious ready group. The naval force under command of Rear Admiral Astrid Kemerskai was composed of a single Soderstrom-class supercarrier, Tage Meidner, 5 Bastion-class guided missile destroyers, and 3 supporting amphibious warfare ships of different classes. Aboard the Tage Meidner, Admiral Kemerskai directed the fleet to settle just outside the Simallian maritime boundary, straddling the line of being within international waters.

On board the Tage Meidner, the air wing was on high alert and ready for deployment. Once the information for the location of the dropzone for the cash was sent to Halstead, the Strike Group would be informed and an already prepared set of fighters would take off to scout out the location.
Last edited by Valkyreia on Sat May 22, 2021 3:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Return to International Incidents

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Meretica, The United Nations Space Command


Remove ads