Refurbishing Islands

[Yerushalayim]

Colonel Alexis Adondi thought the Kergulen islands were a dreary place, hardly worthy of the blood that had already been shed over them. The islands were far colder than her homeland, and they supported no civilization but what the military had brought with them. The ruins of pre-fall science facilities dotted the islands, but they'd been ignored by the Republic's troops, in favour of constructing new shelters and facilities.

The first order of business had been the construction of a temporary harbour, which was itself undergoing a transition to a more permanent status. Several Republican transports were docked at the largest of the islands now, and their compliment of Pacification Marines and engineers had been disgorged onto the island.

Alexis was thankful for the cold weather mask that had been provided for her, as it warmed the chill air before it reached her lungs. She turned away from the observation balcony, which gave her a clear view of the sea, and made her way inside the operation center that had been erected at the center of the Republic's fledgling base.

"Colonel", a soldier snapped a salute while she removed her mask now that she was inside, "Construction is moving ahead on schedule. We just received word that the next shipment of supplies is en route, and has passed Madagascar now."

"Good," Alexis tugged off her gloves and tucked them into her belt. She moved to a work station and keyed in her passcode, which gave her access to one of the observation satellites that was dedicated to the Kergulen base. She used it to scan for the supply fleet and, through use of its last reported position, was able to find it in the clear waters of the Indian Ocean. "How long until it reaches us?" She asked the soldier, without looking up from the station.

"About five days, Colonel," the soldier reported.

"Good." Alexis nodded and logged herself out of the work station before making her way to her office, to oversee the continued work on the Republic's newest military base.

[Yerushalayim]

The Kergulen Outpost thrived with the recent arrivals of troops and supplies. Engineering Corps members flooded the island, bringing it to a standard of habitation that would suit the Republic's needs. Several smaller outposts had already been established across the primary island, preparing the way for future installations that would further enhance Africa's presence in the South Indian.

Colonel Alexis Adondi was sipping her morning coffee, still fresh and hot from the pot, while she examined the latest maps of progress across the island. Yellow lines, indicators of new roads, criss-crossed the island, along with the beginnings of red lines to mark where new rail lines were being installed.

"Colonel", there was a soft knock at her door, and Alexis glanced up at the soldier who was standing in the open doorway now. "The Second Surface Action Group has arrived. They've taken up a defensive position around the island, along with the carrier groups. They escorted in another batch of supplies. Looks like our anti-missile defense systems are here."

"Good!" Alexis rose from her seat, a plain office chair that had come in one of the later supply runs, and made her way to the door. "We'll need to establish those defenses at once. Divert the Engineering Corps from construction of the Sixth Outpost and get them working before the day's out."

"Sir," the soldier saluted and moved off to his work station to begin relaying the orders. Work would continue across the island, while the men and women of the Republic bent their backs to fortify it against any threat. Already the port was operational, and ready to service and repair the Republic's two carrier strike groups, and now its surface action group, that were in position around the islands. Kergulen Outpost was growing rapidly into a small settlement, and was filled with thousands of soldiers, workers, and scientists. Roads, railways, and even satellite based internet, had been brought to the island. Soon enough the Kergulen Islands would be one of the world's premier naval stations.

[Yerushalayim]

The faint whine of aircraft engines reached Alexis even in her office now. The Kergulen Base was a hive of activity, and the new airstrip had allowed for an influx of Republican aircraft to the island. Supplies now came with greater speed than before, though in lesser quantities, which was to the good. The base had already laid down much of the mass supplies it needed, and smaller amounts of more particular supplies were in demand.

Alexis keyed into her map, which showed the webwork of roads and rail lines that spread across the island. Several outposts were expanding, and marked in green with their own names and purposes. The airstrip, at the edge of the central base, was a deep purple. Work was moving forward faster than predicted, owing in part to continuing good weather. When the winter storms hit, though, work would slow to a crawl, and it was key that vital positions be completed before then.

Colonel Adondi cleared the map from her screen and rose from her chair. She made her way into the main work space for her officers, who were busy relaying orders, taking information, and overseeing the construction efforts of the outposts. She pulled her gloves on, then her mask, and beckoned to her favourite aide, before stepping outside onto the observation balcony. The balcony gave a clear view of the port, which bustled with activity throughout the day. Now a transport was disgorging Pacification Squad soldiers, part of the base's permanent garrison, and intended for a rapid response to hostile movements in the South Indian Ocean.

"Sir," the soldier saluted as he stepped onto the balcony.

"Tell me, Sylas, did you ask for this assignment?"

"Sir? I suppose, in a way, I did. I was GenIn during the Congo War. My unit was pretty close to yours through most of it, and I asked to be assigned to your command when I heard that the officer of that squad had been promoted."

"Ah," Alexis leaned on the guard rail of the balcony and stared out at the port, her HUD identifying each of the ships that moved within her field of view. "How are our supplies of coffee doing?" She hadn't known that anyone from her days as a soldier in the field was in her command, or even that anyone knew her well enough to have requested service in her command. The idea that someone had was mildly uncomfortable to her, so she changed the subject to one near and dear to her heart.

Sylas laughed softly and leaned on the rail beside her, "We have more than enough coffee, sir. I've made sure it's a standing request with the supply runs. We get more with every ship and plane that comes in."

[Yerushalayim]

Explosions rocked the night, and sirens wailed. Snow fell heavily across Kergulen Base, blanketing everything in a layer of white. Mixed in with the snow was ash, falling from the plumes of smoke that rose across the base. Colonel Alexis Adondi bolted from her bed, pistol in hand, and crouched in the darkness. After a moment she ascertained there was no threat, but flinched when another explosion rocked the base. She threw on her cold weather gear and her mask, picked up her rifle, and ran from her quarters. She almost slammed into Sylas in the hall, but twisted in time to avoid him.

"Report, soldier!" She snapped at him in the darkness, the hall lit red with the base's emergency lighting.

"Three of our supply ships have been sunk in the harbour, sir. They're blocking access to the base from the sea, and a cargo plane just detonated on the air strip."

Alexis cursed vitriolically and pushed passed Sylas, continuing toward the base's command center. "Get the Pacs out, hunt down any of the people who were involved in this. Get the runway cleared off and make sure our helos are safe. We'll use them to bring in fresh supplies."

Sylas saluted and sprinted off to obey, shouting orders into his mask's radio as he ran.

[Yerushalayim]

[Kergulen Islands, 5/7]
Alexis held tightly to the railing of the observation deck she stood on. She stared ahead, grateful for the mask she wore, which obscured the anger that marred her expression. Three men who had worn the uniform of the Republic's army were lined up against a wall. Though they'd worn the uniform, these men had never truly been part of the military. They'd snuck in on a supply ship, having stolen the uniforms, and passed themselves off as soldiers amongst the thousands that swarmed the base. It had taken some time, but they had been caught after their attack on the base, and now here they were.

"Fire!" The command rang across the courtyard, and the firing squad let loose. The men collapsed to the ground and blood pooled around them. Alexis stared at them as the last vestiges of life drained away, before giving the order for the corpses to be disposed of.

She turned from the courtyard, intent on re-entering the base, and found Sylas waiting for her. "Sir," he remarked quietly, "we'll have peace here now."

Alexis nodded once, sharply, and slipped past him. "Peace, yes. Just be sure that construction continues. The attack set us back, and command will want to ensure that the base is functional on time."

"Sir," Sylas snapped a salute and returned to his duties, while the corpses of the traitors were prepared for cremation and blood still stained the tundra of the island

[Sumbawa, 1/7]
Lieutenant Markus Odara's boots sank into the sand of the beach his unit had landed on. He held his rifle loosely and glanced up and down the beachhead, which was now full of Pacification Squad soldiers. Some curious natives had wandered down to inspect them, but as neither seemed to be intent on harming the other, none took any action against the soldiers of the Republic.

"Move up," Markus spoke into his squad radio, and slogged through the sand toward the more solid ground of Sundawa island. His squad members moved with him, and soon enough they'd cleared the beach. His orders were to move inland and secure the area, ahead of techs who would prepare landing strips and positions for further landings, while the rest of the Republic's Expeditionary Strike Group cleared the island's ports.

Work soon bustled across the beaches of Sundawa as Pacification soldiers cleared the way, and technicians arrived some scant few hours after the initial landing. Through it all, the island's natives stared on, curious as to the arrival of the foreigners.

Edited August 27, 2014 by Yerushalayim

[Yerushalayim]

[Kergulen Islands 6/7]
It had been weeks since the terrorist attack on the Kergulen Base, and the damage had been fully repaired. The attackers were dead, their work undone, and the islands were secured. The last construction across the island was underway, and nearly completed, and autumn was barely upon them. Progress had moved much swifter than any had anticipated.

Colonel Alexis Adondi laced her fingers together while she stared at the map of the islands. The main island was criss crossed with roads, rail lines, and was dotted with outposts. Ships were marked in the waters around it, and several markers for missile batteries had been placed on the map only the night before, after the completion of the island's offensive capabilities.

A cup of coffee steamed near at hand, and she reached out to take a sip. A soft, appreciative, sigh passed her lips as she enjoyed the hot beverage.

"Sir," her aide murmured while she drank, "all is in order for the arrival of the Queen."

"Excellent," Alexis beamed up from her drink, before setting it down. "Tap into the stores a bit, double rations with tonight's supper. Everyone's done well, and I'm proud." The aide snapped a salute and gave the order.

Across the islands there was a frenzy of activity as soldiers came and went. Construction was wrapped up, and the men and women of the Republic's military settled into their new base. In the sky above, Queen Akinyi approached in a private jet, launched from the heart of the Republic.

[Sumbawa 2/7]
Lieutenant Odara stalked through the halls of the Sundawa Outpost. It was a temporary structure, erected in the first nights of the Republic's presence on the island. While, initially, it had been intended to host the senior military staff of the Republic's efforts, now it was home instead to a handful of politicians and their staffs. Marcus had been ordered to guard one such woman, whom he now followed on her way to a meeting with a local leader.

The woman turned into a conference room and Marcus followed, taking up a position with his shotgun held loosely. Another guard took up a position across the door from him, and together they watched the proceedings. Marcus couldn't speak the language of the natives, but he was watchful of their body language, and listened to their tone of voice, alert for any indications that violence might be immanent.

His alertness was unnecessary in the end, however, and the meeting ended quietly. "Well," the politician murmured under her breath to the two guards, "that went better than expected."

"Ma'am?" Marcus raised a brow, though the gesture was hidden by his combat mask.

"The locals seem quite happy to have us. We'll be drawing up papers to buy the island from them, and a civilian port will be installed in addition to the military base. Seems you Pacs weren't necessary after all." She gave a soft, uneasy, laugh and moved back into the hallway.

Edited August 27, 2014 by Yerushalayim

[Yerushalayim]

[Kergulen Islands 7/7]
Queen Catharine Victoria Akinyi walked openly across the largest of the Kergulen islands. She turned her head this way and that as she walked, taking in the sights of the island's main base. Pacification soldiers, and soldiers of the regular army, went about their business around her, though all with an air of theater. She knew that all was a show put on for her benefit. She'd watched the recordings, read the reports, and knew the truth of the situation the islands; she saw no reason to shatter the illusion, for the truth was acceptable to her as well. She let the soldiers have her pride, just as they let her have her inspection.

"As you can see," Colonel Adondi was speaking beside her, the soldier's voice coming through the radio in the Queen's mask, "Kergulen Base is at full operational status. Our anti-missile defenses went fully operational three days ago."

"Excellent," Catharine spoke through her own radio, "I am proud of the excellent progress you and your men have made here, Colonel. Even with the unfortunate disruption that you suffered, you've made the Republic proud; you've made me proud."

They continued to walk and talk, the words meaning little and less. It was all a show, just like the one put on for her, though this show was for hostile eyes. They were waiting, waiting for the inevitability of any remaining terrorists to take their chance to remove the Queen they seemed to so hate. And here she was, an open target, such a tempting target, one that they would not be able to resist.

As predicted, the attack came near the end of the Queen's tour of the base. A heat signature without one of the secret, custom, IFF codes that had been handed out for the day, appeared on a hill with a clear vantage point of the courtyard where the Queen would inspect a unit of Pacification Squads. The hill had been flagged already, and before a single shot could ring out, an elite unit fell upon the hapless snipers. A small scuffle ensued, and the terrorists were captured. The inspection ended, and the questioning began.

Kergulen Base was operational and secure.

[Sumbawa 3/7]
Marcus Odara let himself drop to the ground with a slight huff. He wasn't wearing his mask, for the air on Sumbawa was pure and clear. There was no industry to speak of, before the Republic arrived, and no pollution for the mask to filter. With no combat operations, the mask's HUD was of little use as well. He had his radio worn as an ear piece at the moment, though he hadn't received any new orders for quite some time.

A native man sat beside him and offered him a canteen of water. Marcus accepted with a nod of his head and drank deep, before returning the canteen. The Sumbawa campaign had been a welcome reprieve for him, and the others of the Pacification Squads. Rather than waging war, they'd been helping to build up the two primary communities that they'd found on the island. Today he was helping to build an extension to a house.

He was free to do as he wished, so long as he wasn't called upon to act as a guard to one of the politicians who was present on the island, or one of the local leaders. That happened irregularly, as there was a large pool of Pacs to choose from, and only so many leaders who needed watching. Instead of war, instead of guardianship, Marcus and the other soldiers of the Pacification Squads felt as though they were on vacation.

[Yerushalayim]

[Sumbawa 4/7]
There was the faint, familiar, sound of gunfire through the noise damping effects of Marcus' mask. He stood relaxed, his head turning slowly as he watched the new recruits at their task. Some of the Sumbawan natives had elected to join the Republic's military, and today he was overseeing them at their training. Some of the recruits were, now, practicing with the shotguns that were favoured by the Republic's urban specialists. He tapped a button on his control pad when he saw one of the recruits mishandle his weapon, and all the training guns switched into safety mode.

"Recruit!" Marcus shouted as he stalked over to the man, "tell me what you just did wrong!"

The man's voice held a hint of uncertainty over the training squad's radio, "Sir, I don't know, sir."

Marcus sighed inside his mask, making sure not to transmit it, before responding to the man, "You had your damned gun pointed at your squad mate. These are training guns, they won't go off if pointed at a friend, but you're going to be a fucking soldier. We don't hand out training guns to our soldiers. Do not aim at your friends. You've got latrine duty for the next two days recruit, don't let me see you do this ever again."

He turned and stalked off, even while the recruit snapped off a salute and muttered an unhappy affirmative.

[Yerushalayim]

[Sumbawa 5/7]

The roar of a low flying jet woke Marcus from his nap. He glanced up in time to see the first civilian aircraft coming down at the newly minted Sumbawan International Airport. The grand name was a bit of a misnomer, for the airport was little more than an airstrip and a basic building set up to receive passengers and luggage. It was far from a modern structure, and offered few of the amenities of home, but there were still Republican civilians eager to fly to this new and far flung territory of their nation.

 

Marcus got out of his hammock and stretched, his joints popping softly, before slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. He rested his combat mask loosely from its straps on his head, and made his way toward the airport, curious about just who had arrived on the first flight in to the new holding. He arrived as the passengers were coming down the stairs that had been wheeled out for them, and pulled his mask into place. He used the binocular function that was built into the HUD to examine the passengers, and nodded to himself; it seemed that the first flight had carried a religious group to the island, which he supposed made sense. Though the Republic was officially secular, and atheism was a growing belief set, many religions still remained and the faithful might wish to take a crack at converting these new citizens.

 

He hoped there wouldn't be any issues between the locals, whose own faith seemed to be held very loosely, and these new arrivals. He doubted that the easy going Sumbawans would cause any issues, but some in the Republic were known to be more aggressive. And if civilians were arriving, that meant that an infiltrator from the terrorists that had struck against the military elsewhere might have arrived as well.

[Yerushalayim]

[Sumbawa 6/7]

The prayers of the newly established religious group echoed throughout Sumbawa's twin cities. Against all odds, the newcomers had spread their faith to the island's natives, and it now flourished across the island. Prior to their arrival, Marcus had been unaware that any major Jewish population even existed within the Republic. So far as he had been aware, they'd fled the central and east African territories during the Fall, but these few seemed to have remained. And now they'd come to Sumbawa, with the blessing of the Queen herself.

 

For the first time in history, the twin cities of Sumbawa had a unified cultural link, and no longer existed as entirely separate, if neighborly, communities. A common tongue, in addition to the Republic's Swahili, was spreading between them.

 

The spread of religion, of course, was a civilian matter. The island continued in its development regardless of what groups arrived, and Marcus continued in his duties. He'd been rotated back into service at the newly completed military port, where he was now wandering through the harbour on patrol, with the soft chanting of prayer a soft susurrus in his radio.

 

The prayers, in a language he didn't know, to a god that had never been his, were interrupted by a sudden burst of static, and a panicked call to help. Sergeant Odara recognized the voice of another Pac soldier, and turned toward the location of his IFF. He'd switched his combat mask to battle mode, and could hear the crackle and pop of gunfire.

 

Marcus sprinted through the harbour, weaving between cargo containers, utilizing each for cover as he moved. At least he came upon the scene of the firefight, where two Pac soldiers lay unmoving in slowly spreading pools of blood, and a third huddled behind a low concrete barrier, his shotgun held loosely in his remaining good arm. Marcus quickly scanned the encounter, spotted the six gunmen, and gestured to his own squad to fan out to their positions. He raised his rifle up and released a burst of fire at the nearest figure, who was exposed to his position. The figure jerked and collapsed, and the remainder scattered.

 

The firefight was fierce, though brief, and the Pac soldiers were victorious in the end. Though they'd been wounded, Marcus and his men were able to provided medical attention to the two soldiers that they'd found on the ground, while the third, the soldier who'd called for help, needed only minor care. A wave of activity washed across the harbour as more squads arrived, and what few survivors there were from the terrorist cell were hunted down. Dogs were brought out and bombs were sniffed out and disarmed. An attack, certain to have done great harm to the Republic's base on Sumbawa, was defeated.

 

In the coming days, the interrogations revealed little information, and many of the terrorists chose to end their lives rather than speak. Marcus was stationed as a guard when one such, a woman from the Congo, bit through her own tongue in a spray of blood. Tensions rose, and the Republic's soldiers went onto high alert for the first time since arriving on the island.

[Yerushalayim]

[Sumbawa 7/7]

Sergeant Marcus Odara stood on the deck of his transport ship, watching the island of Sumbawa as it receded in the distance. His tour on the island was over, coinciding with the completion of the last elements of the Republic's takeover. The regular army, acting as a garrison, was taking the place of the Pacification Squads across the island's territory.

 

He felt a sense of bittersweet sadness at leaving Sumbawa; the island had, in a way, become his home. The people were kind, the weather pleasant, and the island relaxing, even with the brief attack by the Republican Liberation Front. The attack had been foiled, in large part due to the interference of his squad, and the island had been spared the bloodshed that had marked other Republican expansions.

 

“Was a nice place,” Marcus heard from one of the sailors, who'd joined him on deck, “I think I'll retire here when my terms' up in two months.”

 

Marcus nodded twice, then spoke in a low murmur, “Yeah. Feels like home, doesn't it?”

 

The Pacification Strike Group sailed deeper into the Indian Ocean, passing other ships of the Republic on their way to Sumbawa. The port, on the far side of the ocean from the Republic proper, was rapidly becoming a hot spot for tourists and corporations alike. Sumbawa Base rivaled Dar es Salaam and Kergulen Bases, and became a premier naval installation of the Republic.