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| The Birth of a Nation; A warlord rises to power | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 27 2005, 10:10 PM (218 Views) | |
| Sistan | Sep 27 2005, 10:10 PM Post #1 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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Iranshahr, former Iran "Only through Prince Mansur can we rise up and reunite the former Iranian people and revive the Persian Empire!" The man standing on the fountian in the center of the city raised his fist, and the crowd gathered around him cheered. "Glory to Sistan! Long live the Prince!" cried the thousands that gathered around the fountian. Although Cyrus Mansur was hardly of any noble lineage, he had fabricated a long family tree that showed a direct line to Xerxes the Great. Fortunately for Mansur, nobody but he knew that his lineage was a lie. Chabahar, former Iran Some 200km to the south, the false prince stood in his camp in the hills to the north of the port city of Chabahar. Smoke was visible rising throughout the city as artillery shells rained down from the howitzers lined up to his right. These guns, as well as the AKs carried by his lieutenants and soldiers, were graciously donated by Emperor-Priest Jorzo Mafil of Scythirus. The Emperor-Priest and his men had been very supporting of Prince Mansur since his conquest of the various warlords in the area began to show promise. "Prince! We have word from General Omid!" exclaimed a young boy as he ran up the trail with a paper in his hand. "He's successfuly captured the port, and the Alvand class frigates Alvand and Alborz." The prince was visably pleased. Those two boats would make securing the coast and destroying his rivals all that much easier. "Yes, and our losses?" asked the prince. "Minimal. General Omid reports that the majority of Abbasova's troops are defending the airfield." Mansur patted the boy on his head and smiled. "Thank you for your report. You may return to your station." Down the hill a few kilometers, General Aydin Omid and his men secured the port. Already, corpses were piling up on the piers as the troops of "Caliph" Natig Abbasova were overwelmed and eradicated. The Caliph, as he styled himself, was Prince Mansur's chief rival, and ruler of the city. Soon, however, he would be little more than a prisoner or a corpse, depending on how things played out in the next few days. |
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| Sistan | Sep 28 2005, 10:13 AM Post #2 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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20km west of Chabahar, former Iran "Caliph! That bastard Mansur has captured the port! His men are swamping the city!" shouted the short, fat, balding man as he stumbled through the door. "What?! I didn't expect him to recover from our last raid for another month!" Clearly, Caliph Abbasova was not pleased. Sweat poured down his face, pausing briefly to crest a bulging vein on his forehead. "Scramble the aircraft. I want Mansur and his cronies dead before they finish up and come here!" "Yes sir. I will inform the pilots immediately." The nervous messenger turned and quickly scrambled out the door, but not before a glass of imported brandy shattered against the doorframe. "Now!" A few minutes later, jets that had clearly seen better days taxied out of the rusted hangers and onto the runway. One by one, the hastily prepared group of F-4s, F-5s, and F-14s shot down the runway and took to the air. Chabahar, former Iran Over and over, the howitzers sounded off, and over and over, the shells whittled away at the Caliph's forces. In the streets, General Omid lead Prince Mansur's from house to house, mercilessly gunning down all who opposed them. Losses were relatively light as the resistance crumbled. At least, until the Caliph's jets arrived. The first hit were the men at the port, who were caught completely off guard as a pair of 250lb bombs skittered across the deck of the Alvand and onto the pier, killing dozens and wounding more. Another bomb punched through an oil tank, instantly turning 20,000 gallons of diesel fuel into a massive fireball, setting off a few other tanks in the process. At the artillery base, the prince watched the counter-attack with great concern. The loss of the oil and fuel would be a hard blow, but it would be worth it when the Caliph and his territory were in his hands. Back at the port, an F-4 came in low over a tanker for another bombing run. This time, however, the infantry were ready. The piers opened up with small arms fire, 7.62mm rounds punching holes in the plane's external fuel tanks. Fuel streamed out, spraying into the air in a fine mist that combusted immediately as it encountered the jet's superheated exhaust. Fortunately for the pilot, the Phantom was traveling far too fast for the flames to follow the fuel to it's source and detonate the tank. Unfortunately, that speed did not stop a shoulder launched RPG from doing what the flames could not, and the F-4 slammed into a warehouse, it's descent outlined in a trail of black and orange smoke and flames. The resulting blossom of fire that shot into the sky made it quite clear that the pilot did not survive. Across the city, three more jets became victims of small arms and shoulder launched rockets. One more, an F-14, met it's fate when it crossed paths with a 105mm artillery shell. |
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| Menhad | Sep 28 2005, 12:31 PM Post #3 |
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ET2(IDW)
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I look like Iran is tearing its self apart, and I want a piece of the action. Make me a good deal and I will send men and arms.(Pretty much the side that offers the best deal to me wins) |
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| Sistan | Sep 29 2005, 01:03 AM Post #4 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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Chabahar, former Iran After the air attacks, a pair of small SAM trucks parked in the artillery camp lifted their jacks and prepared to move to the front lines. Likewise, a number of small jeep like vehicles hitched themselves to the howitzers. It was getting dark, and Prince Mansur wanted his forces in position to make a final assault on the airfield by dawn. They would be attacking from the east, so the morning sun would blind the Caliph's men, while illuminating them for Mansur's. Another factor was the poor state of the RADAR and night vision installed in the planes of the former Iranian air force, which Caliph Abbasova currently possessed. The moonless night meant that the jets would have to remain grounded until daylight. By then, it would be too late. Already, almost all pro-Abbasova forces in Chabahar had been routed out and forced to surrender and swear fealty to the prince, or simply destroyed. Among the surrendered forces were a number of old Soviet tanks and light vehicles, something Mansur's forces were seriously lacking in. With the city mostly secure, the prince's army made it's way to the northwestern edge of the city, where they would consolidate and cross the hilly area to the north before making camp in a small town just to the north of the hills. From there, they would only have to cover around 50km of desert to reach the airbase, and when that happened the Caliph would be finished. With the Caliph out of the way and a significant military base under his control, Prince Mansur's rule would be all but uncontested in the former province of Sistan & Baluchestan. The area's former capital was inside Wadj's borders, so the new capital would be the city of Iranshahr. At least until northern Sistan & Baluchestan and the former capital of Zahedan could be retaken from Wadj in the north. That night was dark and calm, with the only lights being the glow from the fires in Chabahar that outlined the hills like an orange corona, and the campfires that kept the prince's men from freezing in the cold desert night. Morning came quickly, and the men were hastily awakened from their slumber. The sky to the east was barely beginning to lighten as the men awoke, but the prince was adamant that they be at the airfield by the time the sun topped the horizon. Each unit quickly tried to stoke the faintly glowing coals that resulted from the previous night's fires. As fast as they could, they made a crude breakfast, ate, and piled onto the jeeps, tanks, and trucks that would be making their way to the airfield. The camp was not even taken down, as there was no time or much point. There was a small chance that they would have to retreat back to the camp, and they could always pack up after the battle. A deafening roar reverberated through the camp and desert for miles as the huge convoy of vehicles came to life. At the front of the pack were the tanks and armored vehicles captured the day before. After that would be the basic 5-ton trucks that hauled the majority of the infantry. In the back, the jeeps and towed howitzers. Spread among the convoy were the two SAM trucks and various AA vehicles. This time, they would not be caught off guard. 30km from the airbase, the howitzers and a small group of infantry and anti-aircraft vehicles set up a crude artillery base. Not until the sun was up could they fire, but the sun was not too far off. Meanwhile, the armor and infantry closed on the base. |
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| Sistan | Sep 30 2005, 05:30 AM Post #5 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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20km west of Chabahar, former Iran As the convoy of war machines raced through the desert towards the airbase, the sun finally began to peak above the sandy horizon. For a moment, a dozen plumes of smoke flashed into the sky, silhouetted against the morning glare. Ten seconds later, it was the airbase silhouetted against the sky as a shell caused thousands of gallons of jet fuel to detonate. Another shell put the main runway out of commission. Another still hit a barracks, immediately turning a few dozen sleeping men into shredded, charred corpses. Soon after the first embers rose into the sky, another salvo landed in the base, fragging two hangers, the control tower, and the front gate. By now, the base was buzzing with activity as frantic soldiers scrambled to figure out what was happening and what to do about it. Three jets were already taxiing onto the runway when a shell decommissioned the rear plane. The first shot foreword as it's pilot initiated the afterburners and released the brakes. Unfortunately, nobody had checked the runway, and the F-5 lost it's landing gear to the crater residing in the center. The pilot only managed to get off two words before his fighter left a burning skid mark down the length of the runway. "Oh shit!" By now, Prince Mansur's tanks were in firing range, and another round of shells created chaos with the base. This time the shots were answered, and a T-72 became a steel urn. Fortunately for the prince's men, the sun was blinding their opponents, and the rest of the shells landed harmlessly in the sand. While the tanks of the two warlords dueled, the hundreds of infantry made their way to the gates. In the glare of the bloodiest dawn most men would ever see, hundreds of AKs spat at each other. To those who could see and had the time to think about it, the battle was almost beautiful. A company would charge the shattered gate, only to be mercilessly cut down by a machine gun in a watch tower. Before the final body settled onto the sand, the tower was hit with a rocket propelled grenade. Somewhere else, a sniper trained his sights on the one with the RPG, and shot the round being loaded into the launcher, spraying the local area with flames, shrapnel, and body parts. The sniper, likewise, would become an unwilling organ donor by a 120mm shell, and his comrades would unwillingly receive his organs. Slowly but surely, the Caliph was losing the battle. Six jets had managed to take to the air before the second runway was put out of commission, but the jets met a similar fate as they came within range of the AA guns and SAMs. On both sides, tanks became coffins, but the sun was on Mansur's side this morning, and the accuracy of the Abbasovan forces was wanting at best. Though the Caliph had started with much more armor, the inability to hit one's target had taken it's toll, and the numbers were more or less even. At the gates, the Sistani forces had finally managed to get inside, and made their way towards the buildings. More and more men died as they ran, victims of machine gun nests, grenade launchers, and snipers. However, through a few flanking maneuvers, some well aimed artillery strikes, and allot of luck, the enemy was routed. Inside the command bunker, Abbasova was panicking. The walls shook every time shells hit the base, and his troops were being pushed back. The latest report put Mansur's men at the entrance to the bunker, and his men could not possibly hold out for much longer. He could already hear shooting, and every minute that passed brought it closer. Cowering under his desk, Caliph Abbasova lifted the phone to his head and shouted, barely keeping himself from collapsing into tears. "I surrender! Everyone, surrender! For the love of god, tell Cyrus to call off his dogs!" That was before he realized that the line had been cut. Now all he could do was wait. He didn't have long to wait. The gunshots were at his door, and a loud explosion indicated that his men had failed. When his hearing had returned, Natig Abbasova could hear the steel door being forced open. A few more blows were administered before the door frame failed and the portal was opened. "I surrender! Please, in the name of god, don't kill me!" It was too late for words, however, as a fragmentation grenade bounced off the wall and into the Caliph's lap. 25km west northwest of Chabahar, former Iran "Prince Mansur! We have a message from General Omid!" A few minutes has passed since the last shell was fired, and Cyrus Mansur watched the black smoke rise into the sky on the horizon to the southwest. The fires in Chabahar had burned themselves out the night before, but there was some smoke still rising in the southeast as well. "General Omid is reporting that the base fell as expected, and that the Caliph is dead!" It was the same boy as the day before. Maybe only thirteen years of age. He had few combat skills, and was quite young, so Mansur had assigned him to the radios as a messenger. In a few years, perhaps he would make a fine electronics officer. "That 's wonderful news. Inform Omid that I will be there in half an hour. Almost all of Sistan & Baluchestan is ours now. Soon we will be recognized as a sovereign state by all the world." commented Prince Mansur as he stood up from his chair. The boy bowed before speaking again. "We have reportedly lost many vehicles and men, but we have captured many more, my liege. The airfield is mostly intact too." "Is there anything else?" asked the warlord?" "No sir." "Very well. You are relieved." "Thank you, Prince." The boy bowed again before returning to the radio tent. Konarak AFB, 20km west of Chabahar, Sistan When Prince Mansur arrived at the defeated base, his men were already fighting many of the fires the assault had started. Others were rounding up and processing the surrendering forces, disarming and lining up the prisoners while still others stood guard. General Omid was found in the late Caliph's command bunker when Mansur found him, and was sifting through the debris for anything useful. "Good work, General. Our chief adversary is dead thanks to you." "I am only doing my job, my Prince." "You do it well. Regardless, I would like you to come upstairs with me. I have had cameras set up for a press conference." The two left the room and headed up the stairs and out of the building. On the tarmac next to the bunker, a set of cameras and a podium stood, with only the captured men there to witness the speech. "It would seem that I forgot the press. The people in their homes will see this though, and that is all that matters." "People of the former state of Iran, of the middle east, and of the world, I am Prince Cyrus Mansur of the Principality of Sistan. "Today, I have defeated my greatest enemy, and have carved my nation from the shattered corpse of a once great land. In time, I hope to build Sistan to a level not seen before in this region. I will create a great network of roads, rails, and utilities that stretches from the heart of the largest city, to the smallest hamlet. Sistan will have schools that rival any in the world, and everyone will be free to choose what they want to do in life, or what they worship, it they even worship any thing at all. In that regards, Sistan is blind. All gods are equal in my eyes. "I wish for Sistan to have positive relations with all nations, both in the middle east and outside the region. Therefore, I will announce that I am making my capital the city of Iranshahr, and would like to ask all nations to set up an embassy there. Perhaps with your help, we can mold Iranshahr into a great international city. At the moment, Iranshahr has no airport, so I ask that all governmental flights land at Konarak AFB. It's runways are damaged now, but they should be operational by the end of the week. Prince Mansur turned and stepped off camera, and the Sistani flag was raised up a tilted flagpole behind a demolished building, the banner occasionally being blocked by black smoke as it blew by. When it reached the top, the camera zoomed in for a minute before the broadcast ended. |
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| Al Araam | Oct 2 2005, 01:14 PM Post #6 |
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Demigod of Death & Inactivity
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OOC: Do you want to be on the map? If so PM me with your capital and location. |
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| Sistan | Oct 2 2005, 08:20 PM Post #7 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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OOC: That would be why I sent you that TG... |
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| Al Araam | Oct 2 2005, 08:22 PM Post #8 |
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Demigod of Death & Inactivity
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OOC: I rarely check my nationstates account as almost all of the RPing is forum based. I will retrieve your TG. Edit: The amount of land you granted yourself is larger than given to new nations. As is my right, I have lessened the amount of land you will recieve. Also the number 14 has already been taken you will be given the next availible number. |
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| Comrade Queen | Oct 2 2005, 09:21 PM Post #9 |
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Comrade Bitchqueen
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OOC: Is that why you let Armenon cease over in Asia? I will point out that if it's not resurrected, it will be removed from Asia's map. |
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9:14 AM Jul 11