The Overdue War

[Clarenthia]

The sun was especially hot today. Not a single cloud in the sky could offer any type of liberation from its blazing heat. They were moving as fast as they could up the mountain to one of Graneli’s Mines. Graneli Industries agreed to give refuge to Ahmad Fakhri. The Georgians wouldn’t once check a mine, especially one as active as the one they were going to.

There were five soldiers escorting Fakhri, and only him alone for now. They didn’t want to move in large groups. There were helicopters flying every now and then over the mountains and no one wanted to get caught obviously. If need be, they had RPGs to take down these helicopters if it came too close.

Fakhri was an old man; he wasn’t exactly fit either, so getting him to Graneli’s mine was no easy task. Fakhri would frequently need to rest which made everyone anxious. Two of the soldiers went to help Fakhri, but it was too little difference.

Eventually, they got to the Graneli Mine and a lot of the miners looked at them until it finally clicked who they were. A man ran out to them, looked at the sky, and then back down at them.

“Come, Mr. Fakhri, we need to get you inside and safe before any unwelcomed guests appear,” the man said.

“I want to thank you for doing this for me, you’re putting yourself at quite the risk,” Fakhri replied.

“A small risk compared to yours,” the man repeated.

The party was taken inside the mine and then the elevator was called. The elevator came up and the men got into it and descended down for seemed like forever. The elevator eventually stopped and the men came to a large opening where trucks and loud noises filled the area. The miners paid no attention to them.

“Come with me, Mr. Fakhri. To the rest of you, your services are no longer required,” the man commanded.

The soldiers nodded and walked back to the elevator, the man and Fakhri walked down the mine for a while until they came to a small building in the mine. The man pulled out a key and opened the door, the two walked in.

The building was nice, it wasn’t luxurious, but it was comfortable. Fakhri took notice to a desk that had a phone on it.

“Mr. Fakhri, this will be where you run the war effort. That phone line is secure, the Government never checks or would think to check our phone line. Another added bonus for you is the walls are sound proof, it gets loud down here,” the man said.

“Thank you, can I ask for your name?” Fakhri asked.

“Oh! My apologies for not saying it earlier, I am Shota Arveladze,” Arveladze said.

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Arveladze,” Fakhri said.

“Same to you sir, if you need anything, just call. There’s a list of numbers in the drawer,” Arveladze said.

Arveladze smiled at Fakhri and shook his hand before leaving. Fakhri looked around his new room and he sat down at his desk.

 

[Clarenthia]

The helicopter was extremely loud and irritating. The sound of jets zooming by was even louder, but an interesting spectacle at the least. Paolo Iashvili looked over the edge of the helicopter and saw the city of Tel Keppe, capital of the rebel forces.

It all seemed to be a pointless affair; Akhaltsikhe’s military had moved into the area and had a good grasp over it. How do rebels plan to fight tanks? How do rebels plan to fight jets, helicopters, and even a trained, well equipped military force? It would be over and it would be over quickly.

Iashvili’s helicopter came to a descent and then it landed in what appeared to be a garden. Him and his fellow troops got out of the chopper and went to a patrol car. Their helicopter took off and then flew to some other area of the city.

Iashvili sat in the back left seat of the jeep as it began driving through the streets of the city. Iashvili looked up and saw three more helicopters fly overhead. He then looked at the population of Tel Keppe, they were just staring at the convoy of jeeps, even the children stared.

Then someone yelled “RPG!” and Iashvili looked in the direction of the scream as three RPGs launched into the air. The helicopters took evasive maneuvers, but two of them were hit and began a rapid descent. They smashed into the ground and clouds of black smoke erupted from the crash site.

The jeep stopped and everyone was ordered out of the vehicle. Iashvili looked up to see men on the roof, and they began firing down on them. Iashvili raised his gun and shot, and the man fell from the roof onto the ground.

Iashvili ran to a crosswalk and kicked down the door. When he did, he saw the barrel of a double barrel shotgun pointed at him. Iashvili stopped moving and a flame erupted from the shotgun, Iashvili’s service to the nation had ended.

 

[Clarenthia]

The rioting across the nation ceased into protests, and the nation was becoming increasingly divided on the issue of Suchumi. People were in the belief that it was a good idea to let Suchumi go, there would be less bloodshed and the province would eventually fail and be annexed to Akhaltsikhe. Others believe the rebels needed to be crushed as an example to anyone else who had a dissenting belief to the Georgian Government.

Coupled with that, the stock market collapsed. Suchumi produced a huge amount of the nation’s mining wealth and now businesses are afraid to even operate in the area. Graneli Industries, one of the largest in the area, shut down mines across the province, sending thousands into unemployment and the precious mining discontinued. Fear spread that rebel leaders were hiding in these abandoned mines. The importance of Suchumi is undeniable and economic hardship is most diffidently going to come, especially if infrastructure gets damaged.

The other Uroduan provinces still remain iffy on the question of joining Fujairah’s independence movement, especially because the rebels showed no evidence to the fact that they’d be able to adequately defend and maintain a nation. This was all despite the respect for Ahmad Fakhri, who all the provincial leaders knew.

The lack of communication, money, and order, is quickly leading to failure among the dissenters. They have 3 major problems that need to be addressed immediately; lacking of income or any source of revenue; lack of communication; lack of a military.

One thing Akhaltsikhe’s army was capable of doing was keeping the pressure high on rebel forces; it had done it many times before. Predicting the rebels would use the mountains, the air force has 24/7 patrolling over the mountains, ordered to shoot on sight.

Tel Keppe was being hammered. Despite moderate success in the beginning, the rebel forces are near defeat and most have already retreated. Fakhri was looking for a military leader, someone who was knowledge of guerrilla warfare, because it wasn’t going to work if the rebels went head to head with Akhaltsikhe. Again, with the problem of a lacking military, who would lead the rebels militarily?

There was one solution, and that was unifying with the other Uroduan alliances. The others had for a long time been belligerent and to an extent had a military with hopefully good leadership. But the Dissenters’ reputation with the others has fallen because of the Dissenters’ wish to integrate the races rather than have Uroduan supremacy. Regardless of this, Fakhri had no idea how to contact them.

 

[Socialist Commonwealth]

Suchumi

As usual, it had been troublesome for 17-2 to reach his target. The rebellious province had been tightly sealed off by the Akhaltsikhen military. Despite the patrols and air surveillance, there was never once a shred of doubt in agent 17-2's abilities to enter the area. The area was far too big, far too rugged and 17-2 far too skilled to prevent him from achieving what Carentania's Revolutionary Army Intelligence tasked him to do. Not that he wasn't relieved though, that he hadn't been catched. It's never guarantueed that his cover as a journalist bent on reporting about the rebellion won't blow, especially since the RAI had decided to give him a Hajr nationality - a nation which wasn't on exactly friendly terms with Akhaltsikhe, considering that it perceives itself as representative of the Urudoan population in all of Himyar.

Carentania, meanwhile, had other intentions in its southern neighbour. The rebellious Suchumi province could be a focal point for a revolution that ended the racist regime in all of Akhaltsikhe. However, they needed aid to realize this goal. Material, moral and ideological - because, quite frankly, the Urudoans in Akhaltsikhe lacked a clear social perspective. They needed to realize exactly why and how the capitalist world was not too concerned with their oppression and, quite to the contrary, enjoyed its benefits. And they needed to see what kind of society they have the chance to build, once victorious.

17-2 was in Suchumi to show them this. He was in Suchumi, to extend his hand in friendship, in place of the entire nation. His duty was to seek out an alliance with the rebels and, in return for certain agreements and promises, offer Carentanias help in defeating the Georgian government, end the meritocracy and defeat the army.

Air Base near Sisak

Quietly, unnoticed by the press and the international community, Carentania had activated and mobilized its air forces on the border to Akhaltsikhe. The pilots had been ordered to the base for "extra-training sessions" while the fighters and bombers had been equipped with sharp weapons. Should the RAI manage to strike a deal with the rebels in Carentanias southern neighbour, the Revolutionary Army would be ready to go as far as openly intervene. Carentanias Commissariate for Defence was ready to give the order at any second.

But it was only the air force that was ready. On the grounds, many guardsmen had received extra leave, others were granted holidays. It was a move to draw attention away from the mobilization of the air forces and to dispell worries about any belligerent intentions of the Workers' Republic before they may arise. Carentania wanted to tread on the thin line between intervention and war. A gamble that was very dangerous for everyone involved.

 

[Clarenthia]

Sasazghvro Mountains, Western Suchumi

Faraj Khayrat was sitting on a rock, overlooking the city of Tel Keppe, which had been reduced to flames. The defeat of the rebels there was apparent; Akhaltsikhi Forces had successfully taken control of the city and delivered their harsh retribution. The pain of the city was nearly tangible.

Faraj looked at the plumes of smoke rising from the city from the F-16 bombings. It didn’t take a genius to realize that the Akhaltsikhi Military began bombing the area not to kill the rebels but to show just how powerful the military actually was. Faraj knew from the start Tel Keppe would fail, and fail miserably. He estimated that anywhere from 150 to 200 rebels either were killed or fled, never to be accounted for again.

Faraj stood up and stretched. Faraj believed in a different way to combat Akhaltsikhe. Their military was accustomed to fighting an army head to head; they could do it, so long as they had every advantage known to man. Faraj decided to fight a guerilla war, confuse the living hell out of them and stab them in the back and run away.

The first part of his plan would be to attack the leadership. For that, he’d need sniper rifles, and good ones, not the cruddy ones they were provided with. Killing the leadership would be insignificant at first, but the continuous death of officers would be punishing after a while.

They needed to defeat the tanks as well, and nothing would work better than the mountains for that. The helicopters and jets would always remain a problem, but Faraj was willing to accept that. They had RPGs, but they were limited.

Explosives were never a problem. Graneli Industries, a mining company, was in full support of the cause and they had money and explosives and they were more than willing to give them to the Dissenters.

Faraj looked down at the city, and his men walked up to him and he said “Tel Keppe it begins, Abkhaz’s head is where it’ll end.”

Undisclosed Location, Military Command

Nadarejshvili took a seat at the table and watched as Abkhaz barked orders at his generals. He looked down at the table where maps were. The maps seemed to depict areas the military has secured and maintained. The other map showed suspected terrorist hideouts.

Nadarejshvili was kept in the dark the whole time, he had no idea of the plan the Dissenters had, he had no idea what they wanted to do, he felt betrayed by them. Still, Abkhaz was gathering huge amounts of forces, he wanted 200,000 troops down in Suchumi by the end of the week to decimate the Dissenters.

Abkhaz had approved everything, telephone taps, air raids on heavily populated areas, detaining people for suspected terrorism, anything he needed to do to end the war faster.

The one thing that concerned him was there were no reports of mines under attack from the rebels. Some military advisors told Abkhaz it was nothing to think about, others said they might be being used as shelter. Abkhaz was prepared to order troops to all the mines to protect them and regain control of the area so the economy stops its free fall.

Nadarejshvili thought this information was worth telling the Dissenters, so he would as soon as he could get into contact with them.

 

[Batavië]

Suchumi

The drive from Tetri Tsqaro was long. Military checkpoints only increased as Albert got closer to the Suchumi area. His run down, white van was small, easy to manoeuvre, and provided him with an excellent cover. He was acting as a delivery contractor, a courrier and businesses in the area had hired his services. The van, in reality, was purchased by him just two days prior in the capital of Akhaltsikhe. For months Albert had done nothing but study the Georgian language and live a fairly sedated life in the capital. The Staatsveiligheid kept him fed and content. When the order came in to activate, Albert had gotten very excited.

Now, two days later, he was finally approaching the village where his dossier said to go to. A café in the village centre would have a group of men who were supposed to be rebels. They would know who he was. He had no resources, just a little bit in cash to get things started. He parallell parked the small van a block down the street and took out his map as he cut the engine. He wanted to make sure this was the right village. It was.

The dirt and gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked towards the café, the envelope of money was comfortably pressing against his chest from his jacket pocket. Just feed them enough to come back for more each drop. His handler had said in the last wire. Everything and anything they tell you gets sent to Tetri Tsqaro, we'll do the rest.

Collect basic information, rebel locations, stockpile and supply stats, names. Nothing to it really, that would all come through just being around the area for a while. He put his thoughts to a rest when he entered the café, the men there were waiting for him. Waiting to speak to the Batavian agent who was supposed to feed them cash and supplies.

 

[Clarenthia]

Ra’d Hamza got up from a table and walked over to Albert. Ra’d is a scruffy man, he had an awkward mustache that wasn’t well kept along with a long beard. His eyes felt like they could penetrate souls, but in actuality, he was a nice guy.

“I am very glad to meet you, I am afraid your name escapes me, but I know your face,” Ra’d said, grabbing Albert’s hand and shaking it roughly.

“Please, come take a seat over here,” Ra’d said, putting his hand on Albert’s shoulder, directing him to a table in the corner with five other men. Albert sat down in an open seat and Ra’d sat across from him. Ra’d ordered whiskey. It was an expensive drink around these parts, but that didn’t matter because he was dipping into the funds he received to buy war supplies. Whiskey is a war supply, is it not?

“Now, I do not know if you have noticed, but our situation is very…uh, severe?” he said, wondering if that was the right word. “People like you are gifts, but also a curse. The curse doesn’t matter, what does is that stuff gets to where stuff needs to get. In the back there, there are some containers of angel food cake. Delicious stuff is it not? Anyway, the bottoms of it are carved out and there are bullets in it, stuffed to capacity. There’s also some loafs of bread and water. We need that shipment to get to a camp a ways east from here.” Ra’d handed Albert a map. “The chicken nuggets out there shouldn’t cause you too much trouble, it’s just food.”

Ra’d leaned back in his chair as the Whiskey came and he drank some of it. He looked back at Albert. “Oh! I almost forgot,” he pulled out a few letters and handed them to Albert “Give these to the rebs too, they’ll need em. You’re doing a good deed here today, now, are there any questions?”

 

[Batavië]

Albert drank water, he was driving after all. He took the letters and put them into his pocket, removing the envelope stuffed with cash at the same time. He handed the envelope to Ra'd.

'I can smuggle whatever you need, as long as it fits into my van. If you need bigger things or larger shipments, it will take more time. I'll have to find a trustworthy source to hire a lorry, you know the drill.'

Ra'd seemed happy with the cash, so he continued.

'Now I'll be based out of that port, uh, what's it called?' the name of Akhaltsikhe's port escaped him.

'Anyway, that port is where your small arms and other supplies will come in from. They aren't coming directly from Batavië. No, actually most of the stuff is going to have come from a variety of places, last making port in Fulanistan before coming here to avert suspicion with Abkhaz's dogs of customs inspectors. I don't have enough money to bribe every inspector, so I try to be clever with the movement of goods. They usually don't think twice about a medium-size cargo ship with its last port of call being in Nieuw Windhoek, Fulanistan.'

Albert's mobile buzzed in his pocket, he was surprised that he had a signal in this town. He ignored it.

'If you need anything, you just call me at this number.' He removed a black card from his pocket with a Tetro Tsqaro number printed on it with silver, sheeny ink.

'I'll answer it at any time, don't worry about my sleep schedule, I'm here for you, Ra'd.'

With the meeting finished, Albert stood and thanked them for their time. They other four men were busy counting the cash so Ra'd had to snap his fingers at them so they would help Albert bring the basic 'food' supplies to his van down the street.

When the back of the little van was full and the doors closed, Albert took out his mobile and checked his SMS messages.

Return to Tetri Tsqaro. Meeting.

It was time to find his government contact, it seemed. He would have to get rid of this highly explosive food, first.

 

[Clarenthia]

Four miles north of Tel Keppe

Faraj Khayrat was hurrying along the edge of a cliff. Beyond the cliff was a road that the local population informed them is a popular road for military convoys. The local population told them that they usually transported equipment rather than troops. The troops didn’t matter, but the equipment made it vital to intercept the convoy, or at the very least destroy it.

Khayrat pulled out landmines, courtesy of Graneli Industries, and ran down to the road. He and his men put down the landmines and then ran back to the mountains. Then he and his men sat down and waited for a convoy. About three hours passed before a convoy did come.

Khayrat and his men got their guns ready and moved into better positions. They then watched and the few seconds felt like hours. Then, the landmines exploded and the convoy halted, troops immediately stepped out of their vehicles to help the injured.

Khayrat yelled to open fire, and so they did. His men stood up and began unloading on the Akhaltsikhi soldiers, many of them fell, but the survivors got behind the vehicles and began firing back. None of Khayrat’s men were shot, but after about fifteen minutes, the Akhaltsikhi troops were defeated and they surrendered. Khayrat ordered five men to go with him and the rest to keep their sights on the soldiers.

Khayrat ran up to the soldiers, there were about six of them. Khayrat walked forward, putting his gun on his back. He looked into the trucks of the convoy, there was no one inside, but there were lots of guns and ammunition. Khayrat looked back at the soldiers and pulled out his hand gun, shooting all six of them in the head.

Khayrat then ordered his men to take what they could from the convoy. The fifteen men from the mountains also poured down and took what they could, they unfortunately couldn’t carry everything. Khayrat then pulled out dynamite and his men walked to the vehicles with it, lit and threw it at the vehicles. Then, they bolted away as fast as they could and the explosion came. The convoy was utterly destroyed and the rebels now had some more advanced weapons.

Mine 776

Ahmad Fakhri was working on different things when a man walked into his office. He looked up and noticed it was one of his propaganda advisors. He sat down across from Fakhri and looked like what he wanted to say was important.

“Yes?” Fakhri asked.
“It might be necessary to establish symbols. A symbol that we can all rally behind would be beneficial for morale, we might even be able to get people to join our cause,” the advisor said.
“What did you have in mind?” Fakhri asked.
“The Rooster,” the advisor answered.
“A Rooster?” Fakhri said, confused.
“Yes, the Rooster wakes up a farmer to symbolize a new day. It’s heavily associated to farms, which the Uroduan people have been working on for decades, it symbolizes our people,” the minister answered.
“I like it actually, very unique…very original, and meaningful,” Fakhri answered.
“Very good,” the minister answered.
“Now how do we get the word out? With our established communication system? Oh wait, we lack one, so why don’t you manage symbolism and I’ll do things important to the war effort,” Fakhri answered.
The Minister gave him a look, but stood up and walked out of his office.

 

[Clarenthia]

Nadarejshvili was walking through the halls of the PBC Building. He stepped into an elevator that carried him up to the top of the building, to the broadcast room. He was with ten other men, and they all knew what had to be done.

Nadarejshvili used his political position to gain access to the Emergency Broadcast, which was a broadcast that would go to every single television in Akhaltsikhe and remain on until the PBC shut it down. Nadarejshvili walked into a room with cameras and his ten men sat down to work with the technical part of it. The EB was turned on.

Suddenly, every television in Akhaltsikhe switched to Nadarejshvili’s broadcast, and an entire nation looked on their television screens, confused. Even some electronic billboards in the cities switched to Nadarejshvili’s face. Nadarejshvili began to speak.

“Good Morning, citizens of Akhaltsikhe. I am Zurab Nadarejshvili and I am here to deliver a message that will come to be the most important this broadcasting station has ever aired. I do not have much time, so I will say what I can.

In 1985, I was appointed to the office of Finance Minister and quickly rose to be a good friend of Saakashvili’s. I was impartial to Apartheid, I believed it had its benefits. I didn’t believe it was my job to develop an opinion on it. In 1986, I went with Saakashvili to one of the multiple detainment centers across the nation. This particular one served as psychological experiments. I thought it was just for the criminals of the nation, until a young, Uroduan child, no older than eight, came up to me and asked me what I did wrong. I didn’t have an answer for the boy, but when he saw the Detainment Center’s administrator’s face, so angry that the boy had spoken to me, he quickly asked me ‘will you help us?’

From that point, the image of the boy’s anguished face was burned into my memory, so I decided I would help him. In 1988, I convinced Saakashvili to cancel the Detainment Centers. I learned that the little boy who asked for help was dead long before I had succeeded. I eventually contacted the Dissenters and I have been working with them ever since.

I did all that I could to ease the suffering of the Uroduan people, but ultimately I have failed to bring great change. I feel as though I am either a monster or an associate to the monster who has kept such evils in this land. In a last ditch attempt to cleanse my soul and be at peace of mind with myself, I am making this message.

Everyone, everywhere, must stand up along with the Fujairahi forces, attack Tetri Tsqaro, and defeat the Georgian Government once and for all. I am not calling for democracy, I am not calling for the maintenance of the Meritocracy, I am calling for the fall of the unethical, evil Georgian Government. I know for a fact that the freedom fighters are in significant trouble, they need support. The population must see that they are more powerful than the Georgian Government and that they must take it upon themselves to rid this nation of the Georgian Government. It is the right of the people to do away with a Government who is no longer favorable with them.
I must go now, I will likely be imprisoned or killed, it matters not, I did what I could do, I have succeeded in this message. The rest of it all, the future, is all up to each individual that calls themselves a man of freedom. This is the closest its ever come to freedom, do not let this flame die. Thank you, and goodbye.”

As soon as Nadarejshvili’s message was complete, police raided the building and shot all of the ten men Nadarejshvili brought with him and they seized control of the room. When that was done, the police all pointed their guns at Nadarejshvili, who peacefully went with them.

 

[Clarenthia]

Tetri Tsqaro

Faraj Khayrat stepped off a bus and looked into the skyline of Tetri Tsqaro. After Khayrat had heard Nadarejshvili’s message, he felt it necessary to free Nadarejshvili and takeover Tetri Tsqaro, two monumental tasks.

Khayrat had a plan for both. He had estimated around 15,000 soldiers were in place to defend Tetri Tsqaro with everything they had. They couldn’t be fought; any assault on them would fail horribly, so Khayrat had a different plan in mind.

Tetri Tsqaro had about 6 million Uroduans living in it, none of them were exactly friends to the Government. So, the plan was simple. Khayrat was going to take the 230 loyal followers he had and march through the streets of Tetri Tsqaro, gathering support along the way until they ultimately go for two major targets, the Atrium and the Central Military Command Complex. When those two targets were secured, Khayrat would burn them both to the ground and destroy the remaining Georgian Government Buildings.

It didn’t matter how many guns Akhaltsikhe had, the 15,000 troops in Tetri Tsqaro can’t hold off millions of angry Uroduans hell bent on the destruction of Akhaltsikhe. Khayrat hoped that if Tetri Tsqaro could fall, then Uroduans across Akhaltsikhe would get enough morale and momentum to rise up and completely and utterly overthrow the Georgian Government.

Undisclosed Location

“Gentlemen, we must discuss the very real possibility that we may have to hold off a rebellion numbering in the millions,” Abkhaz said.

“That fucking swine Nadarejshvili certainly did cause one hell of a problem,” Tsintsadze said.

“Yes, I know, but we can’t bitch about that. He requested Tetri Tsqaro fall immediately, we must consider the possibility of all the Uroduans in the ghettos rising up and fighting for control of the city, we must consider the possibility of the morale boost that comes from winning the Capital,” Abkhaz said.

“What do you suggest?” Tsintsadze asked.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know. How can we fight 80% of the population? Our control over this nation is collapsing at an amazing rate, what if another nation intervenes, we won’t be able to fight anymore,” Abkhaz said.

“I grow tired of you. You’re too god damn indecisive. If they try to take over Tetri Tsqaro, they will succeed. When they succeed, we bomb the fucking hell out of the city and kill as many of those bastards as we can,” Tsintsadze barked.

“You suggest killing thousands of civilians?” Abkhaz asked.

“Civilians? They’re willing to overthrow everything we’ve ever done for them, they aren’t civilians, they’re swine,” Tsintsadze yelled.

“I am the Executor! I will not allow you to just do this!” Abkhaz screamed back.

Tsintsadze pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Abkhaz’s face. The room went silent as all eyes stared at Tsintsadze.

“I find your lack of power to be more or less a resignation. I want you to resign from this office, Mr. Abkhaz, and do it now,” Tsintsadze said.

“Sit down, Councilor,” Abkhaz said.

“I strongly suggest you don’t play tough with me,” Tsintsadze said, coldly.

“Put the gun down,” Abkhaz said.

“I’ve killed children, Mr. Abkhaz, I’ve killed many people for the survival of the state, and you are no different. Resign, I won’t repeat myself,” Tsintsadze said.

“How would you explain my death?” Abkhaz asked.

“Simple, one of Nadarejshvili’s swine did this to you,” Tsintsadze answered.

“Put down the gun,” Abkhaz said.

“I truly want this to be your decision,” Tsintsadze said.

“Put down the gun,” Abkhaz repeated.

“I wish I could tell you I was sorry,” Tsintsadze said.

Before Abkhaz could even speak, the trigger was pulled and the blood splattered everywhere as the lifeless body of the 7th Executor fell to the ground. Tsintsadze walked over to the Executor’s chair and took his seat. The rest of the Council stared at him in dismay.

“Councilmen, you’re all dismissed; I am officially ordering the dissolution of the Council. I don’t need businessmen and scholars right now, I need Generals, so Generals I shall bring.”

Tsintsadze smiled in his seat as he leaned back. “As of July 10, 2010, the 7th Executor’s reign ended and it gave rise to Sulkhan Tsintsadze, 8th Executor of Akhaltsikhe.”

 

[Batavië]

Tetri Sqaro

Albert had driven back to the capital, avoiding the main roads, to meet up with his local government contact. He had a few names, locations and details to discuss. He noticed on his drive through the city streets that tensions were high. He heard the radio broadcast of the rebel leader and the police and military were all over the place, even worse than when he left the city a few days earlier.

Something was up, but it could be anything. Albert parked his little van on the side of one of the main streets. Crowds appeared to be gathering. He removed his pistol and a couple magazines and put them in his jacket pocket. Some extra cash, Franken Thalers, Tyskreicher Schillings, some Fulanistani New Pounds and, of course, local currency. He had a feeling that he might need to get to the Talemantran border soon.

There was still time though. Maybe his contact would still be at the café. He walked down the side street, away from the growing disorder of the main boulevard. The café was nothing special, one of those places you didn't go to for the ambience, but the food.

He was his contact sitting in the corner by the dirty window. Albert sat down and ordered Arab tea. There was nothing needed to say. Albert wanted his contact to tell him what was going on.

 

[Taley]

Sondrio, Tuscanii Thema
Talemantine Empire

The orders had come. It was decided among the top military officials that it was time for the empire to intervene in the Akhaltsikhe civil war. They had the support of the emperor and the mobilizations approved. Everything was being kept a secret from the general public as assets were being moved into place. The military were denying that any military mobilization was taking place in the west and the military were constructing makeshift refugee camps along the border. The refugee camps were the excuse for the official "slight" increase in troops numbers.

General Laconi had ordered that 350,000 men and equipment be sent to the border. His three commanders divided the command into a Northern, Central, and Southern armies. Laconi made sure that the Southern force were comprised of nearly all of the Empire's Uroduah regiments under the command of Lt. General Benito Al-Temiyat. It would be least resistance from the Uroduah peoples of Akhaltsike if fellow Uroduahs fought the Georgians. The Northern Army, under Lt. General Javier Haghio, would march along the coast to seize the ports and the oil fields and the lands the Empire lost to Akhaltsikhe in the 30s. They would be assisted by the navy, under Admiral Vitale Jovine, to cut Akhatlsike off from the outside world. The Central Army led by General Renato Paoli would move into the heart of Akhaltsikhe and move to take the capital Tetri Tsqaro.

The Secretary of War new it would take some time to get everything in place and the first would be in place by the end of the week with the speed and swiftness that the empire's resources commanded.

 

[Socialist Commonwealth]

Message to Suchumi Rebels

This message is to be received in person. It is to be destroyed if in danger of falling into the hands of Akhaltsikhen forces.

Carentania is sympathetic to the struggles of the Urudoan people in Akhaltsikhe. We understand that a great injustice is committed against the majority of the people in Akhaltsikhe and that they are denied fundamental human rights, most notably being robbed of the right to self-determination. We wish to do whatever is in our power to end these deplorable crimes and have sent this message through one of our agents, so as to come to an agreement about a possible Carentanian intervention.

Carentania is willing to openly declare its support for the Urudoan revolution, with full practical consequences. Our military stands ready to face the forces that have pledged loyalty to the Georgian tyrants and who commit crimes in their name. We have realized that the Urudoan revolution can not stand victorious against the modern military of Akhaltsikhe and we will throw in our own military strength as bargain to ensure an end of Apartheid in Himyar.

However, if we talk about Carentanian intervention, we must also talk about the post-revolution goals of this undertaking. We wish to state conditions, which have to be met after success, to allow us continued support for the Urudoan people in Akhaltsikhe.
1. Democracy and political freedom for all citizens in Akhaltsikhe.
2. Equality as constitutional goal and democratic control and public ownership of the means of production such as factories, may it be in the form of collectivized business or state enterprise.
3. The honest intention to sign a friendship treaty with Carentania within the earliest possible time after the revolution, including clauses on economic cooperation.
4. Post-revolution Akhaltsikhe joins Carentania in its perception of the Carentanian-Talemantine peace treaty of 1927 as illegal in regards to concessions made.
5. A sweeping land reform to enable the poorest of all Urudoan farmers to a life in dignity.
6. A honest commitment to the prevention of war crimes, such as revenge taken out on Georgian civilians.

Please respond at the earliest possible time.

 

[Taley]

Tel Keppe, Suchumi

Qassim al Dossari was walking down the street of the bombed out city of Tel Keppe. The Akhaltsikhi bombing of the rebel city had reduced the city to rubble. On nearly every street Qassim saw people picking up broken concrete from what he expected was once their home or business. Every few minutes you would see an Akhaltsiki patrol drive by. It was a tense defeated city. The destruction tugged at Qassim's heartstrings for these were his people, fellow Uroduah.

But it was a different life for Qassim than it was for the people of Suchumi. He had opportunity and wasn't regulated to limited ghettos or oppressed from his government. Seeing others living is such conditions compelled him to join the State Secretariat's foreign service and that service brought him to Akhaltsikhe as a minor member of the Talemantine Embassy. Officially he was in Suchumi looking for Talemantine Citizens to evacuate them from the country. His actually mission was to make contact with Ahmad Fakhri and his diplomatic passport tucked away in his back pocket was enough for now to keep the Akhaltsikhis off his back.

Qassim walked into a slightly burned out building to wait for the rebel contact to meet him.

 

[Clarenthia]

Tal Afar, Kakheti

All Cameras were focused on Shakil Isma’il, Governor of Kakheti. He was an elderly man who was sitting at his desk, preparing to make an announcement.

“Good Morning, Citizens of Kakheti and Akhaltiskhe. Ever since Suchumi’s declaration of independence, things have been very hectic, especially in Tal Afar. Our Government debated the possibility of Fujairah’s success and what an Uroduan Akhaltsikhe would look like, and how many people would die to achieve it.

I went to the National Academy with Sulkhan Tsintsadze, we were actually friends for a little. He was always a very belligerent…brutal man, who wasn’t exactly moralistic when it came to women. Now that I am Governor of Kakheti, I know some of the actions the Elite Guard has taken while under his command. He fought vigorously with Nadarejshvili when the debates came to end the detainment centers.

In that time, I learned something about this man. Abkhaz was bad, evil some would say, but he wasn’t insane. Tsintsadze is, especially because he declared himself Dictator of Akhaltsikhe. There is no Meritocracy, no more reason to defend the Georgians; it’s time for their retribution.

I, and my Government, came to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter how many people die. If we continue to worry about this, we’ll have a Georgian Government for eternity. We decided that it’s all or nothing right now. Suchumi will fail alone, if all Uroduan Provinces unite, Akhaltsikhe will collapse. I’ll be damned to sit on the side lines and watch as the only true effort to help the people is crushed. I don’t know about the other provinces, but today, Kakheti no longer exists, today, we officially join Fujairah.”

Café in Tetri Tsqaro

Okhropir Giorgi was sitting in the bar, awaiting his Batavian Contact, he was watching the chaos in the streets, the government had more or less ignored all the chaos going on in the streets. All it needed was a little organization, a little leadership, and then the chaos would turn into a revolt and Tetri Tsqaro surely couldn’t stand that.

Okhropir then saw Albert, and he quickly got up to meet with the Batavian.

“Hello, my name is Okhropir, we must leave immediately. Executor Tsintsadze has ordered everyone of value to leave the city, as you can see, things aren’t exactly well in order,” Giorgi said.

The two then left the café and got into a car. They drove to an airport where they boarded a helicopter. The helicopter then took off and began flying west. When they were in the air and away from Tetri Tsqaro, Okhropir looked at Albert.

“Alright, so, what did the rebels inform you of?”

Streets of Tetri Tsqaro

Faraj Khayrat was walking through the streets. Crowds of people had assembled in happiness of Abkhaz’s death, despair in Tstintsadze’s new position, and hopefulness of Kakheti’s decision. Khayrat’s group of 230 FUM agents had also assembled and was prepared to march onto the Atrium and beat down the guards there.

Khayrat took his position among them, and they began chanting “End Akhaltsikhe, to the Atrium!” They began marching down the street, towards the Atrium. People around the city joined up with the march, seeing as the march had a leader, regardless of the fact of whether or not they knew who it was. The numbers were quickly growing as Khayrat continued to lead his men to the Atrium.

The march was continuing down the street, and by this time police attempted to stop it, but found themselves brutally beaten by doing so. Some of the marchers ended up being armed, Khayrat knew things would get bloody, but that’s how it needed to be, so it didn’t bother him.

Khayrat’s march came to the street that leads up a hill to the Atrium. There were soldiers guarding the entrance, not many of them though. Khayrat imagined that his marchers grew by more than four times the original size, so now was as good a time as any, Tetri Tsqaro will fall.

Tel Keppe, Suchumi

Mahfuz Mu'tamid was walking through the streets of Tel Keppe, seeing the same destruction as he hoped the rest of the world was seeing. Mu’tamid was looking from a man that went by the name of Qassim al Dossari, he knew what he looked like, and where he should be, but the task was still troublesome.

Mu’tamid did eventually spot the man and quickly approached him.

“You don’t look like you come from here, I shall assume you don’t, I shall also assume you are Qassim al Dossari,” Mu’tamid said, Dossari nodded.

“Mr. Fakhri is expecting you, but there are some things you need to agree to before we can take you to him. First, you must surrender all of your firearms. Second, you must be subjected to a strip search, I apologize for this, but it’s just a formality. Thirdly, you will be blindfolded, you need not know where he is, again, that’s just for our protection. Are there any objections?”
Undisclosed Location

“Milord, we have reports of a Talemantine Mobilization along the border,” a Military advisor told Tsintsadze.

“How many soldiers are suspected to be there?” Tsintsadze asked.

“Enough,” the advisor replied “If the Empire was to intervene, things could become quite bad very fast.”

“Things are already bad,” Tsintsadze said.

“So what do you suggest?” newly appointed General Khovera asked.

“If another nation intervenes on the side of the rebels, we must consider the very real possibility that the Meritocracy will collapse, we must be prepared for that,” Tsintsadze said.

“How do you wish us to prepare?” Khovera asked.

“If our days are numbered, the Georgians will suffer, this is just a reality. So, we make the new government suffer, badly. We’ll call it ‘Finale’” Tsintsadze announced.

“Finale?” Khovera asked.

“First, we’ll pour the oil into the ocean; bomb some of the offshore rigs. That’ll damage oil production and destroy the fishing industry. Get planes to Abasha and Senaki immediately, have them ready to act as soon as I order them too. The second part of Finale will be to bomb the living hell out of Tetri Tsqaro, the city is full of rebels and dissenters, and we’ll kill as many of them as we possibly can. Third, we’ll bomb the mines in Suchumi, to help the destroy the economy even more. Fourth, we’ll bomb power stations in the South, put the bastards in darkness. We’ll use napalm to torch the farms, cause an even larger food shortage,” Tsintsadze said.

“You want genocide?” Khovera asked.

“No, I want you to understand that if they don’t have problems, they’ll oppress the Georgians, they’ll give all of us miserable lives as retribution for our ‘misdeeds’ so we’ll make the situation as painful as we possibly can for them,” Tsintsadze declared.

“If it comes to the obvious defeat of our Government, I will enact Finale, milord,” Khovera said.

 

[Batavië]

Albert spoke through the microphone in the helicopter to Okhropir. On the drive to the airpot he had been told the news and was shocked. Things were moving much quicker than anyone could have predicted.

'I know where they have a front for smuggling weapons and the like. There are quite a few regional leaders that gather at that little café in one of the valleys. I'd say that they are there quite often, massed in one spot. They hide ammunition and weapons in food crates and bakery items. Simple, but if one isn't looking very closely they would easily miss it.'

Albert looked out the window to see the skyline get smaller and smaller.

'Look, if things go to shit, and it looks like they are, it will be bad for Georgians and Arabs. I am pretty sure that my government will offer asylum to tens of thousands of Georgians, if not more. They would be warmly welcomed in Batavië as part of the Refugee Asylum Seekers Programme. Obviously we can't take everyone, but we can take a lot. If you give me the go ahead, we can get transport planes, commercial and military, to evacuate people before the revenge is carried out.'

Arabs killing Georgians out of rage, a tanking economy, Albert could predict what would happen now.

'Of course, my government will want something in return, if possible. Oil has been propping up this country for decades and any future government will need it as well. If the oil infrastructure is destroyed, there is no hope for anyone. Spare as much as you can and the Georgians will have a place to call home for their safety. I wish that we could help otherwise, but our military is in no position to fight overseas and the international community wouldn't approve of us fighting for our government. I hope you understand.'

 

[Clarenthia]

Message to Carentania

The late reply is due to our weak communications system. We apologize for the wait.

We are very ecstatic to hear of Carentania’s support for our cause. We are even more ecstatic of it because of the possibility of Carentania’s declaration. We looked over the goals of what Carentania wants out of the post-war Akhaltsikhe. We will address each.

1. All people in the nation will be given citizenship, regardless of race, and they will be given equal rights as a citizen. Mr. Fakhri has personally expressed his wish for a Democratic Government, but many still remain passionate to the Meritocracy, so we cannot guarantee that the nation will be entirely Democratic. A compromise will likely be reached on that matter; we will keep Carentania updated on this.
2. Equality is what sprang the revolution; it has and always will be the goal. Our economic policies aren’t a major concern at the moment, so there is little we can say, but the National Oil Company and the National Bank will most likely remain nationalized.
3. We’d be honored to do so.
4. Akhaltsikhe has benefited from the Carentanian-Talemantine peace treaty of 1927, but this Government is impartial to it. At the end of the revolution, our Government will recognize it as illegal and we will send diplomats for a deal to be worked out.
5. We imagine we’ll be stretched for money, but we will do whatever we can.
6. We had planned to take such a vow when we gain power.

Tal Afar, Kakheti

“Mr. Governor, it may be imperative to score a major military victory over Akhaltsikhe if we are to gain the support of the other two provinces,” Essa Zaman told the Governor.

Essa Zaman was the leader of Kakheti’s Provincial Guard, which was a paramilitary force that Kakheti was allowed to have.

“What’s your plan?” Governor Isam’il asked.

“We attack Tel Keppe and get the city back,” Zaman answered.

“That would be most symbolic, but I personally believe if we launched an assault on Tetri Tsqaro, it would be more symbolic and a serious blow,” Governor Isam’il answered.

“Tetri Tsqaro?” Zaman pondered “We do have a base just south of the city, we may be capable of attacking it.”

“If we can take the capital, the other provinces will be convinced as well as the world and the people, I personally believe it’s our best option,” Governor Isam’il said.

“I agree,” Zaman said “I’ll do what I can to prepare the force.”

Tetri Tsqaro

Khayrat’s 230 loyal men charged the street leading to the Atrium, and the protestors followed. The crowd clashed with the guards, easily beat them to the ground. Their guns were taken by whoever got their hands on them and Khayrat pulled out his pistol and the crowd dashed up the hill.

When they got up the hill, the crowd charged the few guards around the Atrium. The guards opened fire and people began collapsing. Khayrat was fearful that the crowd would retreat, but that didn’t happen, they only seemed to grow angrier and they continued to charge the guards around the Atrium.

The crowd reached the guards and began beating them horrifically; many of them were beaten to death. And the crowd cheered as they swarmed into the Atrium, breaking everything in sight. Khayrat didn’t enter the Atrium, but he looked around, he heard sirens go off as helicopters began to appear in the sky, but he saw that they had Fujairah’s flag painted on the side, which confused the hell out of him.

Khayrat began walking through the crowd and he saw the helicopters were opening fire on the soldiers that were amassing. Khayrat believed that the battle for Tetri Tsqaro had begun.

It didn’t take long for the helicopters to realize what was happening at the Atrium, and they decided to land. Khayrat walked up to the helicopters and the soldiers inside immediately recognized him, he was of course Captain of Kakheti’s secret special forces. He immediately got onto the helicopter that was going to fly him back to the Command for Kakheti’s offensive operations.

Helicopter fleeing Tetri Tsqaro

“Albert, things are going to go to shit. It becomes more and more difficult every day. A while ago, we found three of the former communist leaders in Batavia, we are willing to surrender them to you, but there’s a catch of course. We’re asking for Batavia to give a home to the Council, they’ll kill us otherwise. Everyone else can get out on their own terms,” Giorgi said.

 

[Batavië]

Albert didn't have much time to think. Things were happening much too quickly.

'Ok, send us the three men and we will allow your council to seek refuge in our country. But we do want to help with normal Georgians. Can you give me authorisation to request civilian evacuations? I can have a few dozen planes at a city of your choosing tomorrow morning.'

It didn't look like Batavië would be given access to developing the oil fields, for now at least. Whichever side ended up winning, or at least controlling the oil areas, would soon after be visited by officials from BP. It didn't look like the Georgians were going to be getting that visit.

 

[Hesperia]

The Palace of the Lake
East Garden Pavilion
Al A'raf, Sultanate of Hajr

It was evening in Al A'raf, and that meant that the long-suffering city would finally be rid of the sun's merciless gaze. A breeze began blowing in from the lake, whispering through tree branches, stirring the leaves, bringing moist cool air to those emerging onto the parched streets.

Even at close to one thousand meters above sea level, the Hajri summer was a fearsome thing. Evening was a time of day impatiently waited on; yet when it came, it was welcomed with relish. The Hajris were a people that appreciated the setting of the sun more than most.

Hajri rulers, too, admired day's end. Ruling a country required a cool head: it would simply not do to let the sun's heat interfere. No better place to build a palace, then, than the shore of a mountain lake; nestled within extensive gardens, shaded by many trees, and cooled by the nearby water, the Palace of the Lake left little room for the climate to meddle with statesmanship.

Sultan Huseyn was a man who could appreciate a fine garden. It was not unusual for ministers to be summoned to a veranda or terrace, in order to be consulted or interrogated on a matter of state.

Huseyn's favorite retreat was the East Garden Pavilion, a small building of eighteen rooms on the east side of the palace complex. Its colonnaded veranda offered a supreme view on the lake, and was not far from the royal boathouse. Surrounded by a grove of ancient sycamore trees, the pavilion almost guaranteed shade and refreshing cool.

Thus it was today that the Hajri monarch had summoned several of his most important ministers, his favorite sons, and his favorite nobles, to the eastern end of the Palace of the Lake complex, to consult him on the latest crisis affecting Himyar. He dressed, as he did often, in his favorite uniform, a drab khaki outfit with matching cap, upon which was fixed, in white gold, the insignia of the united services of the Hajri military. His black, knee-high boots were as immaculate as always (for how could he lead his armies properly without a well-shined pair of boots?). They were almost as polished as the gleaming star on his breast, the Knight Grand Crescent of the Order of al-Abbas the Golden, of which he was the Grandmaster. The trinket was inseparable from its owner.

“It is Our desire to know,” said the royal person, who never failed to use the royal plural, “what the wisest course of action is vis-à-vis the Jurzan.”

It was the traditional way to open a top policy meeting in Hajr. The right to reply first was, by custom, awarded to the head of the most prestigious ministry present. Today, that right fell to War.

“The Jurzan is a resource-rich land, Sire, and we are sure that many vultures are circling at this very moment, ready to feast on the dead,” War answered Huseyn. “Your Majesty must be vigilant that rightful Uroduah land is not lost to encroachment by third powers. This would have very negative long-term implications for the nation. The Carentanians have mobilized on the Jurzani border, and it is my belief that this will cause their long-time enemies in Talemantros to respond in kind. A conflagration to our east will be catastrophic, with refugees fleeing across our border by the thousand; we also cannot have the Jurzan freed from the Georgian yoke, only for it to fall under communist or imperial influence.

“I humbly advise Your Majesty that, in order to best serve the national interest, we must seek international cooperation in ending this crisis. In this manner, we can gain influence in the new Jurzan, gain access to its resources, liberate the Jurzani Uroduah, and prevent the country from entering into the orbit of one of our rivals.”

The right to speak next fell to Foreign Affairs, whose head was Ali ibn Maktoum al-Ma’muni. It was obvious there had been prior correspondence between him and War, for his only reply was, “I agree with my colleague, Sire: war is not in our best interest, and neither is letting the Jurzan fall from segregation into foreign domination. Himyarite cooperation on the matter is the best available option.”

“But surely we cannot let the communist mobilization go unanswered!” cut in one of the noblemen present. Sheikh Kardal al-Zanaqir, a middle-aged Uroduah chieftain with a deep tan and many scars, was famous for his hot temper, dislike of foreigners, and love of single combat. He was one of the leading hawks at court.

“Honored Sheikh,” replied Foreign Affairs, “it would not do to antagonize a party we seek cooperation with.”

“Abu Umar has a point, though,” Prince Uthman, one of Huseyn's favorite sons, replied, referring to Kardal by his

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. “We need to deter a rogue intervention, do we not? And we cannot appear to be weak.”

“Mobilizing our own forces on the border would give the impression that Akhaltsikhe's neighbors are preparing for a war over its remains,” War pointed out.

“War is the only thing those dogs deserve,” Sheikh Kardal spat, his weathered brown hand gripping the ornate dagger on his belt. He had lost an uncle and a brother in the war of '72.

“War is the only thing we cannot use,” Foreign Affairs replied.

Kardal's eyes were fixed on al-Ma'muni now, a frown deepening on his weathered face. His hand tightened into a fist around the hilt of his dagger. The minister affected not to notice.

Huseyn, meanwhile, remained silent. The breeze was still blowing from the lake, stirring the elaborate tunics of the guardsmen who stood on the edges of the conversation.

When Kardal spoke again, his words came out slow and icy. “You have forgotten the sacrifices we made for your sake, pup.” He did not cease staring at al-Ma'muni.

Foreign Affairs now looked straight back. “Not everything can be answered with bullets, honored Sheikh.” War gave a nod. Prince Uthman rolled his eyes, and looked at his father.

The Sultan raised his hand. “Enough. We recognize the points made. Our ministers are correct in seeking international cooperation: We must preclude Our enemies from intervening unilaterally. However, We cannot do so from a position of weakness. Therefore, We authorize the strengthening of Our forces on the Akhaltsikhi border, and We order them to be put on higher alert. Summon the Carentanian ambassador: We wish to have his government's actions explained to Us.”

War and Foreign Affairs remained silent, content that their line had been adopted. Sheikh Kardal, however, was evidently not fully pleased. “O Guardian, what of the Jurzani Uroduah? Do they not deserve our support?”

Huseyn waved his hand. “We will consider your point, Kardal, in time. This audience is over.”