A Battle Unseen

[Kafuristan]

OOC: Hey everyone, is this for first person RP in general or related to some specific RP? Seems like it's been about several things over time, but want to make sure before I post IC and derail it.

[Maxington]

OOC: You may write (or type) anything you want, once it is done in a first person point of view. What you type here may not have to be based off of other things you see other players putting here,

[Kubrick]

OOC: A common way to use it is to shed some light on events or just battle it out. I like to use it so shed some light on developments, like when something happens I add the first person RP to let people know what actually went down.

[Kafuristan]

OOC: Thanks, Maxington and Kubrick. I'll make a post soon.

[Kafuristan]

01:33, ruined building on the outskirts of al-Kasraj, Abi'nadi Province, Kafuristan

Footsteps outside the door were always ominous in the Chann family's Kafuristan.

The four bearded men, huddled in a small dimly lit room fell into a hushed silence as the steps grew louder and louder. Panicked glances were thrown, brown eyes glinted in the low light as the sound came to an abrupt halt directly outside the door - were the plywood planks they had nailed over the windows a few days earlier enough to block the light in the dark of the Kafuri morning?

Najib Qadir's breath caught in his throat as the steps resumed, muffled through the door, disappearing into the distance. A Channite mercenary - that's what the police were in Kafuristan - no doubt, drawn by their chatter, but thankfully not too curious. Qadir praised Akeem under his breath for the mercenary's laxity - it had been nearly fifteen years since the Chann invasion began, and most of the regime's forces hadn't taken part in the initial offensive, they were growing complacent.

After several more minutes of silence to ensure there was no trick, the men began to speak - quieter now, barely whispering.

"Get this finished," growled Amir Amirmoez, a veteran of the Ahmadist militias that had resisted the initial mercenary invasion and Qadir's Khilaf compatriot. The man was not conventionally imposing - he was thin with hunger and aging as a Majatran in Channite Kafuristan had not been kind to his face - but his eyes glinted with a fierceness that bespoke an inner fire. Qadir had not seen the fire burn, but he was not sure he wanted to.

The other two men in the room sat across a small unadorned table from Qadir and Amirmoez. As was policy, Qadir and Amirmoez had not learned their true names. These were agents of Thubat, the recently organized political face of the Majatran resistance in Kafuristan, and it was only logical that they should seek to create a divide between them and the more... unorthodox... means of the Khilaf.

"Right," said the one who had introduce himself as Mansur. He was handsome, the type of Majatran that Channites loved - easy to look at and with an air, somehow, of Solentian civility. His companion, who called himself Afzal, placed a brown packet softly on the table.

"Five thousand, and there's more to come in the next weeks - we've established a financier abroad."

Qadir had heard rumors that this might be the case - the protests organized by Thubat outside the Chann Palace during the High Chancellor's conference had been a stroke of genius, a moment tailored to the tastes of the international media. Clearly it had worked.

"It'll do," came Amirmoez' rough whisper. The old man was eager to be out of al-Kasraj and back into the mountains where the Channite reach did not truly extend. "You'll see what you've bought in the coming days." He stood as Mansur and Afzal blinked at him, and Qadir followed his lead. It surprised Qadir how startled the politicians could seem in their dealings with Khilaf - it had been months of tedious work to finalize a working arrangement between the groups, of course, but how could they be so sensitive in the world the Channs had built?

Mansur and Afzal stood as well and tilted their heads toward their counterparts. Qadir and Amirmoez left them standing in the room and headed for the rear of the building, the way they'd entered.

After fifteen years - the money was flowing.

[Maxington]

8:34, Office of the Minister-President, The Bashnya, Petrovgrad, Trigunia.

After enjoying a few months of just relaxation within the Bashnya, it was time for the newly elected Minister-President to get his hands dirty, just like the rest.
Boris sat back in his chair reading the International Tribune. His feet layed on the oak desk in front of him. So many previous Minister-Presidents have placed their feet on that exact spot that there is now a dent where the heels of these previous leaders layed. "This new Thubat part interests me." It was confusing for the guard who stood in the corner of the room, he was unsure where Boris was talking to him or himself. But he looked at the guard and said,"This Thubat Party in Kafuristan is declaring itself the opposite of the Chann Agenda, petty brave considering they are a new party." The guard nodded and Boris continued to read more about the Thubat's stance on the Chann Government. "The Channs are a bunch of globalists and economic terrorists, considering that they have made their mark on several nation's economies as they blitz from nation to nation as they try to monopolize their Industry, I swear if those Channs dear come here, I will personally shut down their factories and corporate buildings and wave heavy taxes on their monopoly." He continued reading. At the side of Boris was a series of telephones and buttons which range from a Direct Hotline to the Ground Forces to a Hotline to the Strategic Missile Corps. He picked up one of these telephone marked "DGOS" or "Direktsiya gosudarstvennogo obvineniya i sledstvennykh del" (Directorate of State Prosecution and Investigative Affairs). Immediately as soon as he put the telephone to his ears the someone answered. "Good Morning Comrade, I need to speak to you tomorrow on a small project i have for your team." Boris was now speaking to the Head of the GBD, Adam Sultanov. "I must tell you my interests and intentions of the Thubat Party in Kafuristan". He said and then hanged up the phone as he continued reading he learnt more of the Channs' corruptions spree throughout Kafuristan.

[Kubrick]

12:14, Cornelis van Zanten Chamber, Parliamentary Palace, Wiel, Principality of Vanuku.

"And that, gentlemen, is the reason why it is of the utmost importance that we both publicly condemn this regime and covertly finance the opposition" stated the Minister of Foreign Affairs while shining his laserpointer at the last slide of his presentation. The Prefect, a staunch ideological man with strong morals, looked doubtful and turned towards the Minister of Internal Affairs. Minister Cavna was a close friend of the Prefect and the two whispered for a few moments. He turned his gaze towards the Prince, who surprisingly had decided to attend this meeting, and His Majesty did not seem bothered by the clear insolence. Perhaps he had taken a liking to the KKP Prefect, who at every turn had displayed himself as a charismatic and caring man. The Prefect then turned towards the others. "I do not feel that this is the right course and, as Minister Cavna tells me, neither do the other KKP ministers. It is not our business to interfere in Kafuristan, we must step away from those imperialistic methods." he said. The Prince said nothing, he tried reading his face but it gave nothing away. Minister Scheidecker, of Justice, responded rather agitated. "With all due respect, our nation has been the victim of minority rule time after time and now we stand by and do nothing while it happens to others? First Jelbania, now Kafuristan! We are the most powerful nation on Majatra, perhaps even Terra by now, it is our god-given duty to uphold the integrity of the continent!" he shouted. It was then that the Prince spoke up. "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let us not enter a political crisis over this matter, not like last time. The Prefect has been clear and we must all respect his opinion. However, I feel that the dear Ministers proposing this are in the right. The situation in Kafuristan is unacceptable. A new party has turned up and it is our duty to give them a voice. I will personally, from my own pockets, financially support these brave men and women in their endeavour. I shall also make a statement calling upon Solentia to condemn minority regimes and apartheid states. I do hope that the dear Prefect agrees that condemning such things is necessary, which would be fully in line with his ideological beliefs." the Prince said. The Prefect nodded. "With this compromise I can live, Your Majesty." And with that, the meeting was concluded.

[Maxington]

17:23, Office of the Minister-President, The Bashnya, Petrovgrad, Trigunian Empire.

Director-General of the State Security Directorate Adam Sultanov along with the entirety of the Federal Cabinet arrived to the Bashnya at the request of the Minister-President. For the first time in several years the Tsar attended a meeting like this. "Alright, Mr. Sultanov, Your Majesty good morning,I called for this meeting to bring your to attention a plan I would like for this nation to undergo." Adam fixated himself in his chair as he became curious in what the Minister-President was saying. "Now, In Kafuristan there has been a silent rebellion against the Channs." Tsar Ivan's eyes arched at the mention of a "silent rebellion against the Channs". "A Political Party has sworn to go against the Chann Agenda and restore the old Kafuristan," He paused to drink a glass of water for his throat was becoming dry."The Problem I have with the Channs are their need to destroy and weaken the economies of several nations and how they have forcefully introduced a Gao-Showan population with Solentian roots, now my intentions with the Channs are to wage economic war, It will start with economic sanctions on several officials of the current Kafuri Government and the shut down of all of the Chann's factories and corporate buildings in Trigunia." Finance Minister Leshev had a grin on his face because he knew just how to impose these sanctions. "Secondly, Once the DGOS has completed their investigation, a massive law suit be formed against ChannOil and Chann Defense Industries, I want to squeeze their form of income into submission." The Tsar had not spoken throughout the meeting and It was quickly coming to an end. "About the rebellion against the Chann, what are your intentions with them?" Tsar Ivan asked. "I intend to financially support the opposition as they try to Oust the Channs, I do not want to get this nation personally involved in a war over Kafuristan, even though I am willing, I am not going to do it, let's hope they eradicate those Gao-Solentian bastards, to be honest Indrala should have kept those idiots."

[Kafuristan]

03:33, outskirts of Zerin, Jerze'har Province, Kafuristan

Amir Amirmoez had had his doubts about Khilaf's alliance with the political party Thubat. Fastness, they called themselves. The fastness of the Majatran people was in Khilaf, and always had been - it was the Popular Front for the Liberation of Kafuristan, another political party promising salvation to Kafuri Majatrans, that had collapsed silently and allowed the political vacuum to be filled by Channite bureaucrats and incestuous Gao-Solentian slant-eyes. Amir Amirmoez and Khilaf had always been fast in the mountains of Kafuristan, planning and waiting for fifteen years.

Still... Thubat's money had proved invaluable.

It had been a small thing to gain the information they needed - Channite negligence had inflated the cost of food and water in the provinces so drastically that even the most upright would sell out their own mothers for a few kaf, and they'd do it without second thought at all for foreign currency, and that's what Thubat had somehow been able to acquire.

With the help of some timely purchased information and a short and tense trip north from the mountains of Abinadi to Kafuristan's coastal plains in Jerze'har, Amir Amirmoez and Najib Qadir now stood in a hallway with no windows and a door on either end. They'd entered from the southern door - Amirmoez hated the south, he could swear he smelled the stench of Solentia every time he faced that direction - and stood by the northern. Qadir spoke, reading from a piece of paper that had been handed to him quietly by the alarmed-looking owner of the home when they entered.

"Two of them inside. Channite men - one a local councilor and the other his 'police escort...' Mercenary..." He spat in disgust at the word, looked up from the paper and Amirmoez was happy to see no hesitation in his eyes. Qadir was much younger than Amirmoez, and his fire was an open flame, while Amirmoez' was hot embers. It took all kinds. Amirmoez turned the knob to the room.

OOC reference: http://forum.particracy.net/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=3913&p=93854#p93854

[Maxington]

18:45, Cockpit, Strategic Bomber, 35,000 ft above al-Khamen, O'mer, Chann Republic of Kafuristan.

It was risky to enter in unauthorized air-space but yet relieve to know that they mission was almost complete. They had been in the air for almost 5 hours now, they were closing into Kafuri Radar. "Transmitters off, Communication 1 Off," said the Captain Fedotov, the Captain of the Bomber. Their mission was simple, penetrate Kafuri radar to find a weak-spot and test the response time of the Kafuri Air-force. They were 15 miles before the Kafuri border. "Alright, is everyone ready for increase in throttle?" asked Fedotov. The crew shouted over the loud noises the engines of the bomber made,"Yes!". After having full readiness by the crew, Fedotov push the throttle to full. The Contra-rotating propellers began rotating faster and the noise from the engine became even louder. The crew along with Captain Fedotov put on their flight helmet as the noise was becoming louder and air was becoming thinner. They were covering more ground as they gained speed. 20 miles behind the Kafuri border, Fedotov was gently tapping the yoke to try to get the plane to fly on a steady course for this bomber was not equipped with auto-pilot, It was old, older some of the crew members even though Fedotov was forty-six. Was the plane was steady, he took out a small piece of paper which had the objectives of the mission on it. Whilst he reviewed this, he hoped that turbulence did not find its way to his bomber. He crossed off all of the objectives on the piece of paper and place it into his pocket. He grasped on the yoke and turned around, as they few away from Kafuristan heading back to Trigunia. Their mission was complete, they struck a slight victory for the Empire.