A Battle Unseen

[myungggg]

Streets of Sangon, Tukarali
December 25, 5299, 11:30 pm

On the desolate and despondent Hallowtide evening of December 25, 5299, while the people of Tukarali celebrated in a haze of colourful festivities, a different kind of drama unfolded in the heart of the capital city, Sangon.

Fernando Goa, the courageous whistleblower who had exposed the crimes of the Great Dictator Sebastião Fontes Coelho, found himself trapped. Coelho had discovered his identity as the mole responsible for leaking information to Tempos Tukarense, a publication dedicated to exposing the truth about the regime's atrocities. The ageing dictator, seething with rage and a thirst for retribution, personally led the operation to capture Goa.

As Goa hid in the shadows of a dimly lit alley, his heart pounded in his chest. He knew that Coelho's forces were closing in on him, their footsteps echoing ominously in the deserted streets. Fear and determination waged war within him, but he refused to let despair consume his spirit.

Just as the net was about to close around him, Coelho's men cornered Goa, surrounding him with guns drawn. The Great Dictator himself emerged from the shadows, a sinister grin stretching across his face.

"Well, well, Fernando Goa," Coelho sneered. "You thought you could expose my crimes and get away with it, didn't you? But now, here you are, trapped like the rat you are."

Goa stood tall, his eyes blazing with defiance. "I did what was right, Coelho. The people deserve to know the truth, to be freed from your reign of terror."

Coelho's laughter reverberated through the alley, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Goa's spine. "You think your feeble actions could bring down my empire? You underestimate me, Goa. You are nothing more than an insect I will crush beneath my heel."

Before Goa could respond, Coelho raised his hand, signaling his men to seize him. But in that critical moment, chaos erupted from the darkness.

A rogue group of soldiers, disenchanted with the regime's tyranny, emerged from the shadows. They overwhelmed Coelho's men, engaging them in a fierce battle. The element of surprise and the soldiers' unwavering determination turned the tide in favor of Goa.

As the clash of weapons filled the air, Goa seized the opportunity to break free. He sprinted through the chaos, his heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and hope. The festivity of Hallowtide masked the sounds of the struggle, allowing him to disappear into the crowd.

Breathless and exhilarated, Goa ducked into a narrow alley, finally finding a moment of respite. He couldn't believe his luck. Fate had intervened, offering him a chance to continue his fight.

As he caught his breath, a figure emerged from the shadows—an enigmatic leader of the rogue soldiers who had come to his rescue. They wore a mask, their voice shrouded in mystery.

"You have shown great courage, Fernando Goa," the masked figure said. "We are the Tukarense resistance, and we have been waiting for someone like you. Together, we will bring an end to Coelho's tyranny and restore justice to our land."

Goa's heart swelled with gratitude and newfound determination. He had not expected salvation on this despondent Hallowtide night, but now, hope burned brighter than ever within him. With the support of the resistance, he knew that their fight against Coelho's regime had only just begun.

[TRA]

Medinat Department, Yishelem, Beiteynu
January 7, 5300
19:41

He finished reading the report - which was admittedly too long, folded the dossier and boringly threw it on his desk, leaning back on the leather chair. How he loved the chair, the comforts of Dundorfian craftsmanship. Imaleh they knew how to make shit. And his desk, of the finest timber from Dankuk.

Beiteynuese intelligence agents had been in Tukarali for 30 years, he knew Goa was alive and he knew Goa was about to become a key player. The Head of the Medinat Department also knew that Tukarali was Seleya's ground zero of Beiteynuese trade. There were already 87 unanswered calls from shipping executives, no doubt, who would love nothing more than to clog up his days reminding him of very well known and established facts. They had already berated him for the better part of the week. What a horrible week, all in all. But secretly, he loved the chair. And the desk.

But Hashim's voice echoed in his head. The moderate lunatic. What a snake. HH should burn in a pile of piss, instead. The whole "Levy will eat us alive" and the "World Congress will spank us" and "don't you dare screw this up" were blasting like a concert in his mind.

He let his thoughts trail, while he absent mindedly fiddled with his call sheet for today, having not reached even its half. Nulensky, the Agency's Director, the "Great Dictator" ou la la and the Chief of the Beiteynuese Police popped out of the many obscure names. He crossed his hands, then rested them on his fat belly, then fiddled his thumbs. His gut told him of one thing, his greed told him of another.

With 15B LOD at stake, he only had one option. He picked up the receiver and dialled the Terran Remediation Agency.

"Find Goa. Learn of his...inclinations. Then either arm Goa or Coelho", he commanded, "you know the drill".

He hang up. Then dialled again. This time, Aethansk.

[myungggg]

Outskirts of Guri, Tukarali
January 1, 5300

In a discreet location away from prying eyes, Fernando Goa found himself in the presence of the leaders of the Tukarense resistance. The room buzzed with anticipation as individuals from different sectors of society came together, united in their desire to dismantle Coelho's oppressive regime. Although some were skeptical of Goa's involvement due to his past as a crony, they were intrigued by his unexpected change of heart.

Goa stood before the gathering, a mix of nervousness and determination visible in his eyes. He took a deep breath, ready to address the room and lay bare his intentions.

"I stand before you today with a heavy heart and a sincere desire for redemption," Goa began, his voice filled with remorse. "I acknowledge my past as a crony, enabling the very system we seek to dismantle. For that, I am deeply sorry."

The room fell silent, the attendees absorbing his words. Sister Josefa Nunes, a nun at the Sangon Metropolitan Cathedral, stepped forward, her compassionate eyes fixed on Goa.

"God has already forgiven you, my child," Sister Josefa spoke softly. "We are all flawed, but it is our actions in the present that matter most. Your decision to expose the truth and join our cause shows great courage and humility."

Goa nodded, gratitude washing over him. Encouraged by Sister Josefa's words, he continued, outlining his proposal for the way forward.

"I intend to come out publicly as the whistleblower," Goa declared, his voice gaining strength. "The people of Tukarali deserve to know the extent of Coelho's crimes. We must challenge him directly to a snap election, rallying the nation to vote for change."

Aldo Barbosa, the leader of the New Path faction of civil servants, raised an eyebrow. "And how do we ensure that this election will be fair and free from coercion?"

Goa met Barbosa's gaze, his resolve unwavering. "We must mobilize every sector of society—the military, civil service, academia, the church, labor unions, and civil society. Together, we can provide the necessary oversight to prevent any manipulation or interference. Transparency and international observers will be key."

Rodrigo Carreira, the Lieutenant-General of the Tukarense Army and leader of the Reform Club, stepped forward, his presence commanding. "But we need a candidate, someone who embodies the ideals of justice and democracy. Someone who can unite the people behind this cause."

Goa nodded, a spark of determination in his eyes. "You are right, General Carreira. We must find the perfect candidate, someone untainted by the regime, respected by the people, and with the charisma to inspire change. I propose that we form a committee, representing each sector here, to identify and support this candidate."

The room erupted into discussion, ideas and suggestions bouncing off the walls. It was a pivotal moment, as hope and unity filled the air. They all shared a common goal—to free Tukarali from the grip of Coelho's tyranny.

As the meeting progressed, each attendee brought their expertise, insights, and networks to the table. They were determined to rally the Tukarense people, to expose the truth, and to ensure a fair and democratic election. This gathering marked the beginning of a journey that would test their resilience, courage, and unwavering commitment to justice.

As they departed, Goa couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. The road ahead would be challenging, but with the collective strength and determination of the resistance, he knew they had a fighting chance to bring about the change Tukarali desperately needed.

[myungggg]

The Emerald Palace
Sangon, Tukarali
January 2, 5300

The Emerald Palace was quiet, except for the occasional sound of footsteps echoing through the halls. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that Coelho had unleashed on Tukarali over the years. He sat alone in his office, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He was lost in thought, reflecting on the path he had taken to get where he was today.

He remembered the days of his technocratic rule, when he believed that he could make Tukarali a better place through his policies and reforms. But as time passed, his ambition grew and he became increasingly ruthless, eliminating anyone who posed a threat to his power.

His thoughts turned to his own family, who had been caught in the crossfire of his rise to power. He had lost them all, his wife and children, and it was a constant source of pain and regret for him.

Suddenly, the door to his office opened, and a young woman entered. She was one of his aides, tasked with monitoring foreign involvement in the country. Coelho looked up at her, his expression cold and detached.

"What news do you have for me?" he asked, his voice flat and emotionless.

"The Tempos Tukarense have been increasing the people's support for the resistance," the woman reported, her voice hesitant. "They have condemned your regime and are calling for international sanctions against Tukarali."

Coelho's eyes narrowed, and a flash of anger passed over his face. "Let them condemn us," he said, his voice rising. "We do not need their support or their approval. We will continue to do what is necessary to maintain our power."

The aide nodded, her expression uneasy. She knew that Coelho was becoming more and more isolated on the international stage and that his grip on power was slipping.

As she left the room, Coelho was left alone with his thoughts once more. He knew that he was running out of time, that the resistance was growing stronger by the day. But he was not yet ready to give up his power, not yet ready to face the consequences of his actions.

He was a man driven by his own ambition, and he would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, even if it meant destroying everything he held dear.

He picks up the phone and calls his military commander. "We'll scour every village and every town and every household in Tukarali, just to find the resistance. Understand!"

[myungggg]

Outskirts of Guri, Tukarali
February 9, 5300

The dimly lit room was filled with anticipation as Goa, Barbosa, and Braga awaited the arrival of the Trigunian operatives. The resistance had managed to establish contact with Trigunian intelligence, who had shown a willingness to support their cause. It was a risky move, but one they felt was necessary to secure the resources they needed to challenge Coelho's regime.

Finally, the door swung open, and in walked Ihor Tarasovych Karpenko and Tamara Stepanivna Kucherenko, the Trigunian operatives sent to assist the Tukarense resistance. Dressed in discreet attire, they exuded an air of professionalism and determination.

Goa stood up to greet them, extending his hand. "Welcome," he said with a nod. "We're grateful for your presence and your willingness to support our cause."

Karpenko shook Goa's hand firmly. "The people of Trigunia stand in solidarity with those fighting for freedom and justice," he replied. "We understand the challenges you face, and we are here to offer our assistance."

Braga and Barbosa also approached, exchanging greetings with the Trigunian operatives. The room was filled with a sense of shared purpose and hope for a better future.

Kucherenko reached into a briefcase and pulled out a stack of documents. "As a sign of our commitment, we bring with us 500 million Lodamun dollars, hundreds of weapons, and ammunition," she announced. "This financial and military support will help sustain your operations, provide aid to those affected by Coelho's regime, and strengthen your position."

Goa's eyes widened at the sight of the substantial sum. "This is truly generous," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "With this support, we can amplify our efforts and make a real difference in the lives of the Tukarense people."

Karpenko nodded, his gaze focused. "Remember, this is just the beginning. Trigunia stands ready to provide further assistance, be it in terms of intelligence, training, or logistical support. We believe in your cause, and we will do whatever it takes to help you succeed."

The meeting continued, as Goa, Barbosa, and Braga discussed their plans with the Trigunian operatives. Ideas were exchanged, strategies were formed, and a sense of renewed determination filled the room. They all understood the risks involved, but the resistance is full of gratitude for Trigunia's commitment to free Tukarali from Coelho's oppressive regime.

As they concluded the meeting, Goa looked at his comrades with a spark of optimism in his eyes. "We have been given a lifeline," he said. "Now, let us make the most of it. Together, we will challenge Coelho and restore justice to our land."

With renewed purpose, the Tukarense resistance with support from their new Trigunian allies set out on a path that would test their resolve and resilience. The journey ahead would be arduous, but they were determined to fight for a brighter future, where the Tukarense people could live in freedom and dignity once again.

[myungggg]

The Emerald Palace
Sangon, Tukarali
May 16, 5300

The oppressive aura of the Emerald Palace seemed to tighten around Sebastião Fontes Coelho as he sat in his lavish office, surrounded by opulence that only served to fuel his ego. His mind was consumed by thoughts of power and control, his paranoia growing with every passing day. Little did he know that a surprise awaited him, one that would exploit his vanity, derangement, and craziness.

Suddenly, the heavy doors swung open, and Fernando Goa, the man he had trusted for so long, stepped into the room. Goa's presence startled Coelho, momentarily breaking through the dictator's delusions of grandeur.

"Goa! What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Coelho bellowed, his voice laced with a mix of anger and curiosity.

Goa approached, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "My apologies for the sudden appearance, Great Dictator, but I bring news that may interest you," he said, his tone dripping with feigned deference.

Coelho leaned back in his chair, his interest piqued. "Speak quickly, Goa. I have little patience for your games."

Goa, knowing exactly which strings to pull, tapped into Coelho's vanity. "Great Dictator, have you not grown tired of ruling through fear and intimidation alone? Do you not desire the adoration of the people?"

Coelho's eyes widened, his ego inflating with each word. "Of course! I am the beloved leader of Tukarali, feared and respected by all."

Goa chuckled inwardly, using the dictator's narcissism to his advantage. "Imagine, Great Dictator, if you were to call for snap elections, giving the people the illusion of choice. Think of the praise you would receive for your magnanimity."

Coelho's face contorted with a mixture of skepticism and interest. "Snap elections? And why would I do such a thing?"

Goa leaned in, his voice low and persuasive. "It would be a masterstroke, Great Dictator. You could rig the elections in your favor, silencing all opposition and cementing your power even further. The people would believe they had a voice, while you maintain control from behind the scenes."

A flicker of excitement danced across Coelho's eyes as he began to entertain the idea. The allure of complete domination over the electoral process was too enticing to resist.

"You may be onto something, Goa," Coelho conceded, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Perhaps it is time to give the people a taste of democracy, one that I can manipulate to my advantage."

Goa's plan had worked. He had played on Coelho's vanity and exploited his deranged desire for control. But before the dictator could fully revel in his delusion, Goa seized the opportunity created by the distraction of their conversation.

As Coelho continued to ponder his newfound plan, Goa swiftly made his move. Taking advantage of a nearby distraction, he slipped out of the room unnoticed, leaving the Great Dictator behind.

Coelho, lost in his own megalomaniacal musings, failed to notice the absence of his once-trusted confidant. The room fell silent once again, its opulent surroundings serving as a stark reminder of Coelho's isolation.

Little did Coelho know that Fernando Goa's escape marked the beginning of a new era. The resistance, bolstered by Goa's insider knowledge and their Trigunian allies, would seize this opportunity to rally the people, expose Coelho's corruption, and fight for true freedom.

As Goa vanished into the shadows, he carried with him the hope that Tukarali would soon be free from the grip of a mad dictator, while Coelho remained blissfully unaware of the storm that

[hyraemous]

Minister of Defence of the Kundrati Union
16 June 5300 - A sea

Two patrol ships (akin to the Yugoslav Mirna-class patrol boat) streamed through past the eastern shores of Hobrazia. A supply ship followed, alongside a corvette (akin to the Assad-class corvette from Beiteynu). The transponders were offline and there were a few special people inside these ships - out of around 110 people inside the fleet at least 10 of them were election observers. A conservation follows inside the corvette:

"If I were to ensure that Tukarali would be democratic... should we make sure that the results are examined a certain way Mikhail?" said Commodore Milan Pelov, who headed the fleet heading to the shores of the emerald land.

"Perhaps." said Mikhail Sukahan, an election observer from southern Celanija.

The ships were ordered to begin turning towards Tukarali as soon as possible as the conversation continued:

"And in a way to make sure that dictator is gone?" said the Commodore..
"Absolutely." responded Mikhail.
"However the dictator himself will want to rig the country's vote in his favour. He will be harassing and causing a lot of problems."
"Is that not why you have the patrol ships instead of shipping us via air?"
"Precisely. They'll be roaming around the Tukarali shores for the added pressure."

A secure phone rang. Commodore Pelov picked up - it was President Aleksandr Nulensky on the line:

"Hello Commodore."
"Mr. President."
"I expect this mission to be very successful. Kundrati's interests have been threatened by the actions and revelations of Tukarali's so called great dictator."
"Of course. Our fleet is expected to hit Tukarali's shores in a week or so."
"Good. You have a hundred troops, be careful with them."
"Yes sir. Good night, Mr. President."
"Good night."

The phone call ended. When the ships got near the Tukarali EEZ, the plan was that the ships were to halt and the observers would leave the corvette and enter one of the patrol ships. That patrol ship would enter when it was quiet... and then afterwards the observers and about 15 other soldiers would follow to protect the observers, the rest going away from the EEZ to patrol the area.

[Luis1p]

IRSA Command Headquarters. Eroncourt, Lourenne
June 15th, 5300
5:56 p.m

"How will we ensure that the outcome in Tukarali is in our favor?"

"Well. We can't. We are expecting the free peoples of Tukarali to decide this for themselves. We believe in their self determination. However, there are those undesirables still grasping for the roots of authoritarianism in the county. They must be silenced--or eliminated.

"This is well beyond our norm of intervention. Long have we used our resources and our personnel to achieve outcomes throughout the globe, but this...we cannot simply go around country to country, killing as we please. We are a nation of principles--strong democratic principles. By doing this you--."

"I know what I am compromising, Christine. But a democratic Seleya is beneficial to the sustainability of the kingdom. You know this. We must silence traces of authoritarianism in Tukarali. For queen and country."

"I understand your position, but we cannot eliminate people. It is not in our principles as a royal agency."

"If we let authoritarianism continue to spread in Seleya, just as it spread in Rildanor. Our values and beliefs will cease to exist. Who's to say we don't get another Capélot in our timeline? Is this what you want? To see the Queen and the royals massacred at the Place de la Liberté once more? No. not here. Not ever.

"I will relay this to Central Command then.I want no part in it. The details will be sent to the high chancellor.

"You must. Our mission of democracy and sustainability begins now."

[myungggg]

Outskirts of Guri, Tukarali
August 12, 5300

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the picturesque outskirts of Guri, Tukarali. Érica Magalhães and Adriano do Rosario, along with several other influential opposition leaders, gathered in a quiet meeting place, surrounded by lush green fields and the tranquility of nature.

As the leaders settled down around a large wooden table, their faces mirrored a mix of determination, hope, and anticipation. They knew that this moment marked a turning point in Tukarali's history, as they embarked on the journey of forming a new political party to challenge the existing regime.

Érica, with her unwavering commitment to human rights and progressive ideals, was a natural choice to lead the new party. Her passion for social justice, combined with her legal expertise and experience as a dedicated schoolteacher, made her an inspiring figure to rally behind.

"I am truly honoured to be entrusted with this responsibility," Érica said, her voice filled with a sense of purpose. "Together, we will forge a path toward a more inclusive and equitable Tukarali."

Adriano, known for his eloquence and astute political acumen, was chosen as the first person on the party's list, symbolizing his role as the leading candidate for the National Assembly. He recognized the weight of the task ahead, knowing that the future of Tukarali rested on their collective shoulders.

"Our voices will be heard," Adriano declared, his eyes shining with conviction. "We will fight for the rights of every Tukarense, and we will hold the current regime accountable for their actions."

The meeting continued late into the night, as the leaders discussed their vision for the new party. They shared ideas on policy initiatives, strategies for grassroots mobilization, and ways to engage with various communities across Tukarali. Amidst the discussions, a sense of unity and camaraderie pervaded the air, reinforcing their shared commitment to a better future.

Outside the meeting room, the vibrant beauty of Tukarali's countryside provided a stark contrast to the political upheaval gripping the nation. The leaders drew strength from the peaceful surroundings, finding solace in the knowledge that their efforts were not in vain.

As they concluded the meeting, Érica and Adriano shook hands, their faces displaying a shared determination to overcome the challenges that lay ahead. They understood that the road to change would not be easy, but they were ready to face it head-on, fueled by their unwavering belief in the power of democracy and justice.

As Érica and Adriano walked together, deep in conversation, they suddenly noticed a figure standing in the distance. It was Fernando Goa, the former Chief of Staff to the Great Dictator, who had recently come forward with startling revelations about the regime's crimes. His courage and decision to expose the truth had sent shockwaves throughout Tukarali.

Approaching him cautiously, Érica extended her hand. "Mr. Goa, thank you for your bravery and for speaking out against the atrocities committed by the regime. You have given hope to so many."

Goa hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I appreciate your kind words, but it was only my duty to reveal the truth. I regret that it took me so long to do so."

Adriano spoke up, his voice filled with respect. "Your actions have played a crucial role in shedding light on the crimes of the Great Dictator. Without your bravery, we may not have had the momentum to build this new movement."

Goa nodded solemnly. "I appreciate your acknowledgment, but please remember that power can be seductive. As leaders, it is essential to never let it consume you. Stay grounded and always prioritize the will of the people."

Érica and Adriano listened intently, understanding the weight of Goa's words. They knew that the path they were embarking on was fraught with challenges and temptations. Goa's advice served as a reminder of the importance of humility and the need to remain connected to the aspirations and needs of the Tukarense people.

"We will keep your words close to our hearts," Érica replied, her voice filled with determination. "Our mission is not about personal gain, but about ushering in a new era of justice and progress for all Tukarense."

Goa smiled faintly, appreciating their sincerity. "I have faith in both of you. Remember, the power to bring about change lies within the collective will of the people. Stay true to that, and you will make a difference."

As the three of them parted ways, Érica and Adriano felt a renewed sense of purpose and responsibility. They knew that their journey had been profoundly influenced by Fernando Goa's revelations and his commitment to justice. The encounter served as a reminder of the weight of their task and the importance of their mission.

With Goa's words echoing in their minds, Érica and Adriano continued their march toward a new era for Tukarali, holding tightly onto the principles of integrity, humility, and the unwavering belief in the power of the people. Their resolve strengthened, they vowed to honor the trust placed in them and to build a future that would never again allow the abuses of power they had witnessed.

The journey would be long and arduous, but armed with the lessons of the past and the determination of the present, they would forge ahead, guided by the collective will of the Tukarense people.

[TRA]

Medinat Department, Yishelem, Beiteynu
August 8, 5300
14:57

"Status?", the leather chair creaked.

"Coelho diminishing, evidently", the aid squirted, "but it doesn't seem like they're gonna go down without a fight".

"We can't do much", the Head of the Medinat Department said to himself, then looked out the window to the brilliant sun. The heat outside was unbearable this time of the year. Thank Ishmael for Dundorfian air conditioners.

"Lourenne?", he asked.

"In favour of continental stability, democracy. They will probably be exercising their influence in some manner".

"Good. This is a chance for us to establish a foothold in one more continent", he whispered, "and Lourenne is the way to go". He knew without a doubt that he would be sitting in this chair for quite some time. He also knew bilateral relations with Lourenne would be of the outmost importance.

"Isn't Lourenne an ally of Dorvik?", the aid asked, hesitantly.

"So?"

"Doesn't that, I mean, shou..."

"Everybody is a Dorvish girlfriend, why doesn't anyone understand this?", he stood up, feeling impatience building up. "Call the Agency, have them get in touch with Goa. Let's provide our support towards democracy and stability, as it seems. Offer intelligence, operatives, covert operations, guns, the likes", he said.

"Go".