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(just to clear up for anyone that is confused, I will be playn some of the more antagonistic tribes in the conflicts here along with bein Jin-ho. So i post for the Yafa'i atm)
The hawkish elements that have seized control of the Yafa'i confederacy do indeed become further enraged following the statements from Prince Sheng Zixin in Aden. Their number swell and they gain greater command over the council that rules the Yafa'i confederacy. The young and radicalized men are furious over what they perceive as the failing of their fathers' and fathers' fathers for the fall of Yemen to the Sheng in their colonial expansion. The leader of the hawkish group is the recently crowned Sheikh Ahmad ibn Ali.
Sheikh Ahmad addresses his fellow Yafa'i kinsmen and close allies after being brought to power over the confederacy on a campaign of restoring glory and dignity of the Yafa'i and promises to directly confront the Sheng empire. The manner of confrontation remained ambiguous during his campaign.
"The infidel mock us! Their pompous princeling that whores himself in his corrupt and salacious den in Aden and enslaves our fellow Yemeni brethren to further the material hunger and power lust of their shayatin birthed Empress has the audacity to besmirch our honor. We the followers of truth through Alah. Good and moralistic men, women, and children who are made to starve so that the Imperialist race may get fat."
"It is a crime against Yemen. It is a crime against justice. It is a crime against Alah. We cannot and will not stand to take these insults any longer from foreign oppressors that come only to rape and pillage our lands of our resources and labor."
"We call on our allies throughout Occupied Arabia! Join us in protest against the evil leeching of our people. We can not be made to suffer this way in our own lands. We refuse to suffer the insults that they spew. Rise with us."
The gathered Yafa'i extremists in the council cheered loudly in response to the declaration of Sheikh Ahmad ibn Ali. As they cheered the moderates looked on worriedly but dared not respond with their own objections.
The Yafa'i call-to-arms echoes out across Sheng Arabia. The movement flames the embers of anti-Sheng sentiment hidden away in the basements and backrooms across the peninsula away from the watchful eye of the Imperial authorities. Although it fans the embers, very few are quick to respond to the call to take on the all powerful empire. For now the Yafa'i stand alone. They mobilize their assets, but stay within their own borders and the areas that they occupy.
Although they remain in their own borders, the Yafa'i do commit to their first action in protest against the Sheng. The lucrative oil fields in the Marib basin lay within the boundaries of the Yafa'i area of control. The Yafa'i surround Marib and close off the flow of oil out of the region for processing in Sana'a as well as shutting down the major highways running through their territories.
The 20 members of the council of 13 have voted in favour of sending out a diplomat to Sheng China to formalize a treaty. They have also discussed about other nation but are not sure how to proceed about it. They have decided to send out a message to each nation in Asiana asking if they want to formalize relations.
The military reforms are coming along nicely with new equipment arriving and training methods being developed. Also the military has been largely streamlined as before is was highly disorganized due the the nature of the nation prior to it becoming a formal nation.
Argent, Sheng China, and Tam Amisgal
Ambassador Dmitry Vadinkov has been chosen by the council to be sent to Sheng China to strengthen ties. Which at this point are still largely unofficial.
One of the biggest changes to the military the new reforms have done is the massively expanded cyberwarfare division and drone divisions.
This is done mostly to compensate for the small military relative to everyone else due to sparsity of the population.
A large group of Europans have been granted refuge in Trans-Amur. They have settled down and built a large underground mining town. (This is more of just a homage to my previous nation.)
Argent, Sheng China, and Tam Amisgal
The Imperial Court is elated to receive the Ambassador of Trans-Amur to establish official relations with the Empire. As a long standing friend to the Sheng Empire, Trans-Amur is a welcomed addition to the world stage.
Ambassador Dmitry Vadinkov is invited to travel to Beiping(Beijing) to meet with Grand Prince Wei and Imperial Minister of Foreign Affairs, Cao Shicai, for a conference on the establishment of official relations.
In the meantime, Beiping is being decorated for the occasion with flags of both the Empire and Trans-Amur. A grand welcoming festival is prepared with music, parades, performers, and vendors throughout the streets and squares. It is being taken as a chance to put Beiping on show after years of rebuilding the former metropolis since the city's liberation from the now defunct Choson Empire.
Apologies - I'm culling embassies so as to make the paper round easier. Add us to your dossier if you'd like to keep up with what's going on. Thanks for your custom!
Sheng China and Florentinz
The somber oranges and reds of the sunset fell through the window pane of Earl Darrel Macey's study window, cigar smoke from a Cuban cigar creating wisps of smoke that linger in the air. His estate had just been the host of the ever important annual meeting of Fourth Tribe of Polaris leaders, and though it was scheduled at the same time every year, the timing couldn't be any better considering the state of the Empire of late. His job as Head of Economic Actions on behalf of the central government had been stretched thin, well, stretched thin for his subordinates, but his hand DID hurt from signing so many authorizations from the military for additional emergency funding. The military bureaucrats were always grateful when they were well supplied with capital.
Macey snubbed his cigar into the nearby ashtray, adjusting his suit as he readied his phone, not his official phone though, the one that the government had no idea about. Ever addicted, Macey has subconsciously put a new cigerette into his mouth as he dialed his contact in the Royal Imperial Guard. As the ringtone went on, he looked down at the gumshoe notepad he had been writing on during the meetings with the Fourth Tribe Aristocracy, red bold letters writting out "Prepare for the Worst, Use your Contact" sighing deeply as he'd been pushed into a corner in a short timespan. He was all for the plan, he just didn't want to deal with all the bullshit that would be uncanned quite yet, can you blame a man?
The tone eventually beeped, a irritated authoritative figure on the other line drumming up with a solid, "Who in Lucifer's red ass is this? If this is the Ablyan scam center again I swear tha-"
Macey's smooth and sultry tone, only made better by the smoking (somehow) piped up in a docile and calming manner, "Ah ah ah dear.. it's a friend of the Morning Star or a late how-do-you-do... I need a favor and I need it now.. you can.. imagine why.." he spoke with aristocratic charm and a layer of nicotine charisma, as if you could hear the decadence in his voice.
The once boisterous and rabid Royal Imperial Officer hushed quickly, though their voice still had a bite within it as it was long after operating hours, "Let me guess.. you need that letter..."
"Mhmm... and then you are off the hook for awhile dear... I need to establish some.. connections with that lovely Kingdom of Florentinz... never been actually, beautiful place I hear..." his tone was jovially and playful in the last part, as if they were having a absolutely normal conversation.
"And what should I ask for in such a letter..." the now merely tired Royal Guard huffed with a latent shame to their future actions.
"Tell them.. we are going to need a.. 'helping hand' in these uncertain times soon.." Macey flicked his cigarettes into the trash bin next to him as he let out a light but starkly ambivalent chuckle to his partner in crime.
-------------------------------------------------
A letter is sent to the Royal Assembly of Florentinz on behalf of the Head of Economic Actions, Earl Darrel Macey, inquiring for 'aid in bringing balance to Polaris' and further private communications with the highest available representative. The letter has all of the proper diplomatic stamps and sigils, though no record of its existence would exist within Polaris after it was sent off.
Argent and Florentinz
"Swimmingly." Jin-ho chuckles in reply, raising his glass of bourbon to toast to the prince. He draws the glass back to his lips and takes a long sip of the cool liquor; following it with a satisfied sigh of the smooth liquor warmly trailing down his throat.
Setting the glass down next to him, Jin-ho crosses his leg over the other showing off his high heeled boots. "The exposure of Kesan and his removal will have a ripple affect across the peninsula and drum up outrage in favor of the rebel sentiment." He states as he folds his hands in his lap with a smile stretching across his lips. "Your time is coming." Jin-ho says with a pleased smile.
As Jin-ho predicts, the fall of Tang Kesan of Sana'a for his corruption and abuses to the local populations of his governorate reverberates throughout the territories of Sheng Arabia. Large protests and boycotts break out in Sana'a and its governorate territory with protestors demanding justice and retribution for Kesan's crimes. A small but noticed group even fly anti-Sheng banners. Police and city guard keep close watch of the situation to avoid property damage and assaults, but allow the people to protest without much interference for concern of oppressing and thus angering the locals. Other cities in Sheng Arabia also become plagued by boycotts and protest in solidarity with the people of Sana'a's quest for justice and anti-corruption probing. The cities of Jazan, Al Mukala and Al Hudaydah saw significant protests like Sana'a. Even Muscat, administrative capital of the Imperial Colonial Governorate of Sheng Arabia, saw protesting outside the Governor General's estate.
The Yafa'i, those responsible for the outbreak of violence north of Aden, seize upon the news to immediately call for solidarity and unity in protest against the wider Sheng colonial system.
Sheikh Ahmad, leader of the Yafa'i Confederation, addresses his fellow Arabs of Sheng Arabia and the rest of the Arab Muslim world:
"To my brothers across the Arab and Islamic nation, we hear your cries, we hear your outrage, and we sympathize and share in your pain. Tang Kesan, despot of Sana'a, is but one prime example of the corruption and sin of the Sheng Empire's occupation of our holy peninsula. Tang Kesan's abuse of our people is felt throughout the peninsula by the Sheng Empire's other imposed despots and favored traitors of our people."
"We have suffered under the yolk of Sheng slavery for too long. We have suffered as they leech off our lands for our wealth while the innocent suffer. Let us stand together against this oppression. Fight against their tyranny. Fight in the defense of Allah. Throw off their shackles and stand tall in the name of Allah! Join us and denounce the Empire's torture and rape of our people!"
In the aftermath of the broadcast, the protests and boycotts in the cities of Sheng Arabia grew more aggressive and violent. Protestors began burning the Imperial banner and effigies of Sheng leaders and complicit Arab rulers such as the Sheikhs of Dubai and Abu Dhabi. They carried black banners with script from the Quran denouncing the 'evils' of Sheng. Police and city guard were forced to up their activities to contain the protests with several arrests taking place.
The numbers joining the Yafa'i grew rapidly after the broadcast as men and women crossed the territories into Yafa'i lands. Neighboring tribes began joining the call for protest against the Sheng colonial administration. Much of the interior sparsely populated territories of Yemen and even some of Oman joined with the Yafa'i's movement; now calling themselves the Arab Front for Justice. Most concerning is the tribes that control Zaranik and Hashid districts, districts that are much more populated and closer to the coast, have aligned themselves to the Arab Front of Justice.
The level of organization that the Arab Front for Justice is operating with is unprecedented for rebel groups of the past; posing a troubling concern in dealing with the group. The AFJ's black market contacts have also secured them a steady supply of weapons to arm their growing numbers.
In the desperate attempt to pre-emptively flee from the forming battle lines that were evolving between the pro-Imperial and rebel territories, civilians begin flocking from their towns and villages for safety. The majority of the fleeing civilians are moving deeper into pro-Imperial held territory believing in either the government's more equipped ability to protect them from violence or in the inevitability of the Empire's victory over the upstarts. Most civilians are fleeing to the Imperial stronghold cities of Sana'a, Taizz, and Aden.
In Aden, Prince Sheng Zixin opens the gates widely to the refugees. He orders the refugees to be fed and housed where ever available throughout the city including; hotels, hostels, temples, mosques, and civic centers. All of which he offers to personally pay for himself on the behalf of the refugees.
The residents of the city in response to the Prince's generosity responds in kind with an out pouring of support for the refugees in providing food, shelter, and clothing. An act of charity and generosity that catches many by surprise as the city, under Sheng Zixin, has become wealthy high society metropolis getaway of resorts, casinos, fashion, and other luxury-based industries.
Aden becomes such a preferred location to flee to for the refugees, that camps have to be established outside the city walls as the capacity in the city swiftly fills up. This recognition is not without consequences however.
The mass movement of people to Aden, and other Imperial stronghold cities, stirs the ire of the Arab Front for Justice who have previously condemned Prince Zixin and the city for their sinful lifestyles and representation of the evils of the Sheng Empire's colonial rule over southern Arabia. The highways along which the refugees flee on toward Aden and other Imperial strongholds become targets for the AFJ to maliciously harass and blockade; condemning their fellow Yemenis for fleeing to the Empire.
In retaliation for the AFJ's attacks on the highways and threatening the refugees, Sheng Zixin is given permission from the Governor General, Xiong Da, to mobilize his personal Imperial forces to safeguard the highways and refugees from AFJ attack. The Governor General even grants Prince Zixin permission to recruit a local militia army with which to provide support in stabilizing the area.
Prince Zixin with the support of his trusted advisers Jin-ho and Zhensu, are quick to recruit and begin the rigorous training of this new army. Their largest recruiting pool comes from the very refugees that Sheng Zixin has been tasked with protecting with this new army. The young men and women, appreciative of the Prince's open armed acceptance of their families in their time of need, willingly volunteer to become part of the Prince's militia army to bring peace to their region. Recruitment into this new army is a seldom had opportunity to join the Imperial forces which is not often afforded to locals within the colonial territories or member states of the Confederate Empire. Locals are most often used for guardsmen at best. A chance to join an Imperial militia may lead to the opportunity to join the Imperial forces proper and the career paths included with it.
As the militia is being trained, two of the Prince's five Imperial battalions march out of the city and move into the countryside to secure the highway and protect the civilian caravans fleeing from the regions.
Feniks Nadezhdy, Shesterniserdtse, Eastern Europe
The midnight sky was glittered with twinkling stars above, the smell of fall rich through the air, autumn leaves littered the concrete sidewalks as rays of lights glowed out from the rather stern looking parliament building’s stone structure. Filing the fine polished wooden benches, row to row nearly packed to the brim was finely dressed officials. A sea of military dress uniforms representing Sagan Nezrusev one of the prime candidates for the election night, what seemed like a forest of dark green tunics seemed to span on and on endlessly. On the other side of the rather large and lavish looking assembly hall appeared to be a pool of black and grey suits representing Alexi Chezinask, a group that admittedly paled in comparison to the former mentioned. Adjusting his tie frantically, Alexi’s thoughts were flying at what felt like light speed, glancing over at the overwhelming gang that sat across the single walkway covered with a red velvet carpet to only receive glares as sharp as razor blades and cold as ice gave him no help but to make his frantic nearly panicked state any better. A friendly, wrinkled and aged hand placed softly on his shoulder causing Alexi to jump, shooting his gaze over in the direction of his hand recognizing his political aid and advisor, Dmitri Tstalx.
“Brother, you look as if you’re about to be executed! Relax! You should be excited! Not too long ago we believed we wouldn’t get past that greed filled merchant in votes but look at us now! We have an actual chance of winning this! All we must do is sit here and hope the Federal Courts count the vote higher in our name than the lich sitting across from us. Here, take this.” Dmitri would say in a hushed comforting tone, taking a moment to brush some fuzz off of Alexi’s shoulder before reaching into his own inner jacket pocket, taking out a small silver tin container, removing the top and taking out a cigarette from inside offering it to Alexi.
“I apologize my dear friend but you’re right, we went from speaking in small lecture halls at liberal art schools and now we’re in the house of the Federal Courts. I can’t say I exactly expected to surpass caste system communists, money hungry borderline anarcho-capitalists and now I’m contending against a group one symbol away from being a new reich surrounded with cyrillic. I honestly didn’t expect to get this far Dmitri.” Alexi would confide in his friend speaking in the same hushed tone, reaching forward and grabbing one of the tightly packed cigarettes, pinching it between his lips, holding the end of it over the newly lit flame flickering out from the fresh struck match Dmitri held out. Taking a deep drag off of the smoke, he cocked an eyebrow as the Federal Judges would slowly enter the chamber taking their seats at the head of the chamber.
“Greetings everyone, the first federal court of Shesterniserdtse is now called into session. Tonight we’ve gathered here to witness the election of the new nation’s prime minister. Both parties gathered here today, if and when elected, have already submitted their own organization of the government which we will live under. The elected head of the S.N.P otherwise known as the Slavic National Party has proposed a totalitarian dictatorship that pushes to further the slavic race through military expansion and might. The elected head of the C.D.S otherwise known as the Civil Democracy Society has proposed a democracy that focuses on strengthening the nation through forigen relations, economic trade and placing an emphasis on scientific research and development. As we finish the counting of the votes please remember that no matter what we are bound together as a slavic people and we will respect those to gain office as prime minister of our newly founded nation.” The rather stern and official voice of Head Judge Zoya Zanianyaza would announce almost as a decree grabbing the attention of even the most rather seemingly hardcore members of the S.N.P.
“See Alexi! Those idiots can’t even label their government without saying it’s a dictatorship! No one wants one of those after living under the Union! I’ll start getting the brandy ready hahaha!” Dmitri would attempt once more in comforting words, nudging Alexi a little and laughing towards the end of his sentence. Alexi chuckled light heartedly as he pulled a drag off of his cigarette. His attention nearly snapping back towards the figurehead of the Court as she cleared her throat, clutching a piece of paper in her hands. She’d take a moment to break the wax stamp seal and unfold it, starting to read out the message.
“In the eyes of the Federal Courts of Shesterniserdtse we hereby announce the winner of the prime minister elections. Announcing first popular vote followed by district votes. C.D.S with 427,170 votes. S.N.P with 425,370. C.D.S wins the popular vote. C.D.S with 3 Federal District votes. S.N.P with 2 Federal District votes. Congratulations to now Prime Minister Alexi Chezinask.” Judge Zoya would start, her voice echoing out across the assembly so quiet one could hear a pin drop. The room remaining silent as her gravel would smack against the hammer slab officially finalizing the decree. The entire court sat in silence, everyone sat in disbelief for a few moments.
“Vot Der'mo.” Alexi and Dmitri would comically say in unison in a tone of disbelief. Alexi’s cigarette had fell out of his hand and on to the snow white marble floor, the ash splashing onto the ground as Dmitri would start frantically laughing in shock almost hysterically.
“We did it!” Dmitri would shout standing up and throwing his arms straight up into the air, a roaring applause and cheers would erupt from the C.D.S side followed by a rather stern soft applause from the S.N.P side of the court. Members of Alexi’s party nearly jumping up, hugging one another in joy. The woodland of OD green slowly getting up and quietly leaving the court complex. Alexi simply sat there in disbelief like a man who was just told he had won the lottery, his mind raced with all the possibilities and chances he has to change the nation for the better but as well as all the stress that may come with such a task. Alexi felt the hands of his aid wrap around him and embrace him as the laughs, hoorahs and screams of excitement and celebration filled the Courtroom. “We did it brother! Years of campaigning and diplomatic talks across five different nations to get them to agree to unite under one banner and we’re the ones to make it a democracy! We’re gonna be on the world stage! With our hard work the people of the slavic states can leave behind the dreaded past of the Soviet Union and jump forward into a new bright future that isn't filled with bloodshed and meaningless executions! It will be hard comrade but our will must not falter. Come now, we must go celebrate for we start tomorrow, we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Argent, Sheng China, and Greater polaris
The Arab Front for Justice's ranks have swelled significantly sense the fall of the governor of Sana'a in the corruption probe launched by Sheng Zixin. Much like the Prince in Aden, the AFJ works tirelessly day and night to train its volunteers in their own militia. Their supply lines from out of the country is secured by their control of the border region which freely allows the flow of decent weapons and munitions into their armories.
Despite the swelling numbers and the early victories, the mass exodus of their fellow Yemenis from their territories and especially those territories near the forming border lines has shaken the already fragile moral of their members. If the people did not stand with them then what did they stand for? What do they do?
The question perplexed the appointed leader of the AFJ and the leading figure of the protest against the Sheng, Sheikh Ahmad. He watched over the governing council of their movement has they bickered and argued among themselves as they debated the same question as the Sheikh.
As he sat watching the room and silently contemplating their situation and stroking his short dark beard, two figures approached, flanking the Sheikh. One, a man wearing a black thawb, the traditional floor length robe worn by men in Arab world. And the other, a woman dressed in a black traditional niqab. Both have their faces covered except for their eyes. When Sheikh Ahmad notices and recognizes the two, he offers his hand to the man with a gentle shake and receives the woman with a nod and hand over the heart.
"As-salaam ‘alykum." The Sheikh finally speaks to them.
"Wa ‘alaykum as-salaam." They both quietly return.
From inside the deep pocket of the man's thawb, he produces a green and gold box. "Dates, your highness. For you and your family." He presents the box to the sheikh from his left hand and his right over his heart.
The Sheikh bows his head and receives the gift with bow of his head. He looks at the box and delicately opens it to reveal the dates inside. Seeing the golden lettering on the inside of the lid he finds the word Ajwa glittering. "Ajwa dates!" The Sheikh softly exclaims.
The woman nods her head, "The holiest of fruits, my lord. As Allah's Messenger, Sallallaahu Álayhi Wasallam, said 'If somebody takes seven Ajwa dates in the morning, neither magic nor poison will hurt him that day.' A treat and a necessity." She insists with the man nodding his head vigorously.
With a questioning look, the Sheikh was about to say something when the man interrupts, "For a man in the position that you hold, looking after your health and wellbeing is an absolute must. We, your friends and advisers, only wish for you to live long and healthily so that your holy mission may be fought and won."
The Sheikh nods his head in agreement before plucking one of dates from the box. Looking over the sweet piece of fruit he takes a bite and hums in satisfaction at its sweet taste. Surprised by the uncharacteristic juiciness of the date, he is about to mention the fact when he is interrupted again.
"You enjoy them? Excellent!" The man nods happily. "Now a word if we may, your highness."
Finishing off the date, the Sheikh looks around to make sure that he is not being watched or over heard before he rises to his feet and walks with them aside from the gathered arguing men. Again, watching the room to make sure they are not being eavesdropped the Sheikh returns his attention to the two. "My friends, what word have you heard? I need your counsel."
The man is the first to speak when they have settled in the near corner, "The fleeing are tapering down but there are still thousands on the move. Most heading to Aden." He then looks to the woman signaling for her to speak.
"The Prince of Aden has deployed his personal forces into the mountain highways and are moving toward the border to stabilize the area and stop our advance." The woman offers next in hushed words which she immediately follows with looking around to make sure she has not been heard.
The Sheikh let out a shaky sigh as he ran his hand over his eyes, "Curses. This is not the news I had hoped to hear."
The veiled man nods along before offering, "My lord, I understand that facing the enemy is intimidating. However, what you have started cannot be allowed to just go by the way side at the first sign of opposition."
"You must show that you are unafraid. Press the advantage and press the attack. Show strength in opposition and maintain the loyalty of them and gain more." The woman insists looking out on the group of arguing men.
The mention of loyalty strikes a tone in the head of the Sheikh. Although he was brought to power over the movement by popularity, the maintenance of control has been altogether another complicated story. The competing figures of the movement with their own opinions on how it should be operated means his authority is constantly questioned.
"You must act. If you stand by too long, they will lose faith in you. If you stand limply then this campaign will be all for not." The man insists stepping closer to the Sheikh.
The woman follows in stepping closer and sternly asserts, "Do not stand as little more than a forgotten faceless rebel."
The Sheikh could feel a swell of adrenaline course through his body as he listened to the persistent masked individuals. He also felt am increasing hankering for more of those delicious dates he had been given.
He swallowed his desire for the fruit down as he nodded along listening to the obscured man further speak, "They, the Chinese, are on the defensive. You've struck two victories and Allah has gifted you with the exposure of the Sana'a governor."
"You have the moral high ground." The woman insisted sternly as she interjected, her eyes fierce and piercing.
The man stepped even closer almost pressing against the Sheikh as he stated, "It is your duty to advance."
"It is the will of Allah." The woman declared with fiery determinization in her eyes.
The Sheikh's emotion boiled over at their persistent encouragement, "You're right! Absolutely right!" He declared abruptly with the adrenaline moving his feet forward. He returns to where his seat is and addresses the council, "We must act and act now!"
"Brothers! It is the will of Allah that we advance forward! To fight the infidel and expel them from our lands. Together we fight even if it means our death! Our deaths in battle is paradise in heaven. Our fight will inspire the suppressed to battle against the imperialists and throw off the chains of Chinese slavery. Together we must raise the black flag of Allah and charge forward without delay or quarter!"
Sheikh Ahmad declared loudly and without room for argument. The room of men erupted in cheers, ululation, and cries to Allah. The majority of the men gathered around the Sheikh continuing their celebration and congratulations for his bold step forward. Only a few kept their distance in somber quiet.
The disguised man and woman watch the celebration around Sheikh Ahmad. They side eye each other with a knowing look and nod. They then slip from the room and head for the shadows from which they appeared from. Before doing so, the veiled man reveals his wrist. Pressing into the skin, a screen lights up to reveal an interface in the skin. Pressing and dragging his finger over a few buttons and indicators, he sends a message out and quickly closes out of the interface.
300 miles south of the AFJ's headquarters, in the Palace of Aden, Jin-ho's wrist lights with a notification. Swiping over the 'skin' of his wrist and opening the interface, he reads of the success of the mission with a pleased smirk.
I was honestly hoping we'd hold out by the time I came back. All hail our zombie overlords! Also happy Halloween.
Argent, Sheng China, and The democratic states of ablya
Deep within the fortified walls of Prince Zixin's estate in Aden, Zhensu and Jin-ho occupy the Prince's study. Zhensu occupies herself with preparing drinks at the bar. She clinks the crystal, glass, and porcelain vessels holding the various liquors and wines. With three glasses prepared, she abandons the bar and walks across the office. Zhensu finds Jin-ho leaning against the wall and firmly places the glass of his poison of choice down on the table near him with a sharp nod.
She then marches to the Prince's desk to place another glass down in front of the space in front of the owner's seat. Just behind the desk is an open door from which rustling and movement can be heard inside.
With a grunt, the Prince's presence is made known from the other room. "While I appreciate the accentuation..." Zixin states as he saunters through the doorway, the protective skintight Chinese silk armor-suit pools at his hips which exposes his smooth and unblemished well tone upper body. What is on the Prince, properly, hugs tightly to his body; indeed accentuating every curve of muscle and flesh. He smooths the hair on top of his head before running his fingers through the pony tail that his long silky hair has been tied back into.
He lets out a sigh in frustration as he rests his hand on his hip to pick up where he had left off, "I forgot what a pain it is to get into the armor skin."
Noticing she is starring at the Prince's half naked form, Zhensu lets out a great sigh with a slight shake of her head as she tries to focus. With her wits about her again, Zhensu explains, "It will become as a second skin, your highness. And if you are going to lead them like an Imperial commander than you need to dress like them." Zhensu notes pushing her glasses back to the top of the bridge of her nose.
"And so, I must play the part of the good soldier; a life willingly given in service to the empire!" Zixin recites in mocking declaration of the old saying to Zhensu and Jin-ho. "I know." He whines before picking up the glass from his desk and sipping on the dark golden liquid. "I am just reminded now why so few nobles actually go to the battlefields. Well, this and the fact they are cowards." He chuckles as he takes another sip of his drink.
Setting the drink down, Zixin pulls up the skinsuit and starts to slip his arms in. "Now, report on the situation in the north." The Prince directs to Jin-ho as he slips further into the body-hugging material.
Jin-ho, per usual, keeps his eyes largely focused on the interface in his arm. Reading through reports, checking off notifications, and sending messages to his network of agents in and around Sheng Arabia.
He barely acknowledges Zhensu' existence as she places a drink next to him. Jin-ho provides a courteous nod of thanks to her own nod and a soft grunt of acknowledgment. Ever since his arrival, the two of them have been at some tenuous odds. Likely protective of her position as Zixin's right hand and not enjoying having to share authority with the Prince's new left hand; him. Maybe she is suspicious of his foreign ties, allegiance to the Emperor of Argent, and of the power that he holds to ruin all of them. Or she might just be an unpleasant bitch. The possibilities were endless, Jin-ho reasons, and therefore cared little about what issue she had against him. He had a job to do and it was going to get done and get done the right way no matter who stood in his way.
When the Prince enters the room, Jin-ho catches a quick glance of the man. He returns to the device, but double takes the view of the half exposed Prince in front of them. His eyes rake over the Prince's tone body, surprised that such a spoiled Prince would maintain such a physique. However, in his own gawking at Zixin, Jin-ho happens to catch the uncharacteristic ogling of none other than the cold shrew that is Zhensu. Several many things suddenly clicked in his mind in regards to his previous thoughts on their relationship.
Amused with what he was seeing, Jin-ho smirks softly as he swipes away the interface on his arm. Jin-ho picks up his drink and sips from it as he starts to nonchalantly circle the room. He eyes Zhensu and shoots her a quick wink and playful smile as starts to provide a report as the Prince demanded.
"Dear Prince, the north has descended into chaos. Communication cables and power lines have been cut and detonated by the rebels." He announces as he struts around the perimeter of the room. "The roads are being raided by the terrorists. Car bombings are frequent. Our security checkpoints are frequently strafed and skirmished. The people are scared and fleeing in droves. The most significant development is that Sana'a has been surrounded, cut off, and is under siege." Jin-ho takes a long sip of his drink before continuing, "It is all going accordingly." He smiles mischievously.
Arrving at the Prince's desk, Jin-ho tsks observing the Prince struggle to put on the body suit. "Please, your highness." He side eyes Zhensu quickly before returning his attention to the Prince, "Allow me to assist you."
Jin-ho gently takes hold of Zixin's hips from behind, "Sometimes it takes a helping hand or two to slip into these tight situations and to hit the right spots." He chuckles while dragging his hands up the Prince's sides with firm but smooth motion, pulling the silky armor bodysuit tight against the Prince's body. Jin-ho spies Zhensu watching him and he shoots her a wink and devilish smirk as he then pulls the zipper slowly up the Prince's back.
Taking a step back, Jin-ho looks over the bodysuit hugging the Prince's taut body. "You're going to knock them dead, your highness." He chuckles before looking over at Zhensu, "Don't you agree, Zhensu?"
Jin-ho picks up his drink and quickly changes the topic back to the report without giving Zhensu a chance to respond. "A show of force lead by our gallant Prince up the highway to Sana'a should break the siege and allow us to reestablish a life line with the city. As a result, Prince Zixin will be hailed the Hero of Sana'a!" He sarcastically declares raising his glass in the air to Zixin and taking a drink. A sinister smirk then crosses his lips, "And to the conquering hero go the spoils."
While enroute to Sheng China for talks the plane carrying the Ambassadors plane was shot down by bandits near the border. After a nearly a weak of widespread searching the Ambassador was found along with 1 of his bodyguards but sadly the advisor and the other bodyguard was killed in the crash or escaping from the bandits. The bandits managed to avoid the search parties but where eventually discovered and destroyed by coordinated helicopter strikes. Despite all that had happened to him and his team, they all insisted on going to Sheng China despite a broken arm, afew bruises and some cuts to show that despite everything nothing can stand in the way of these talks.
Thus despite being a week and a half late Ambassador Dmitry Vadinkov lands in Beiping with a new advisor new bodyguards and his arm in a cast.
Argent and Sheng China
Zhensu's eyes could not throw daggers hard enough if they could as she starred at Jin-ho. Her muscles tightened and her blood boiled seeing Jin-ho's the shameless display of touching the prince. She kept her face blank as she always did so as to not betray her feelings; fully knowing that Jin-ho was taunting her.
Running his hands down the bodysuit skin to make sure it fit properly, Zixin hums approvingly. Especially running his hands over where Jin-ho's hands had been. "Two hands, indeed." Zixin purred quietly.
His ears perk with Jin-ho's declaration of Zixin as a 'hero'. A title that has never been used for him before in his life. It had a nice ring to it even if it was said sarcastically, he thought to himself. It certainly swelled some pride in his chest and the hints of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
What does bring a smile to Zixin's face is the mention of the 'spoils.' Knowing that the 'spoils' implied the acknowledgment and advancement of Zixin in rank and consideration within the Imperial Governorate and hopefully the Empire proper. Thus advancing their plans a major step forward.
"I like spoils." He said with a smile as he picked up his own drink from the desk and pressed the cool glass to his lips to drink. He then put the drink down and snapped his fingers; signaling to Zhensu to order in his pages.
Zhensu nodded her head in confirmation and went to the door of the office. She opened it and gave a quick wave to the pages outside. The two young men quickly entered rolling in the Prince's black and gold body armor hung from a rolling stand. As per Sheng custom the armor belonging to Imperial officers, especially royals and nobles, is in the elaborate style of ancient dynastic plate and scale armor. Although appearing as ornate medieval Chinese armor, he protective wear is actually a highly advanced battle-suit with a network that is integrated with the inner silk based bodysuit designed to provide vitals, advanced situational awareness, communications, and intelligence to the wearer.
Zixin walks to the open space in the middle of the room and snaps his fingers again; alerting the pages to go to their work. The young men are quick to work, taking individual pieces of the armor and slipping them onto Zixin who moves at their slightest long practiced suggestion. As each piece is put on they interlock with the previous to make the complete suit. With suit on, the last touch for the pages is to tie the Prince's hair into a bun, attach the Prince's floor length cape to the shoulders and provide him with the long feathered crested helmet.
A floor length mirror was quickly provided for Zixin to look at himself in. He admired the fit and power that the suit exuded. He looked like a very different person wearing it.
"I look like I'm from one of those romantic period dramas." Zixin snickered looking at himself and not quite able to take it seriously. "I am a royal prince. Not a solider. Am I really going to inspire and lead soldiers?"
Happy Thanksgiving!
Argent and Sheng China
(Im so sorry for being so late, i've been so very blah and bleh lately and struggling to get along.)
(Also I apologize for accidentally suppressing the post. Total slip! Im so sorry!)
Relieved to hear that the Ambassador has survived his harrowing ordeal with only a few injuries, Beiping jubilantly welcomes Valinkov to the city. The festivities that had been put on hold at the disappearance of the Ambassador now roll out in full force. Vendors and performers peddle their craft. Banners and flags fly high and proudly. The people of Beiping danced and mingled in the streets enjoying the festivities and celebration.
Ambassador Vadinkov is met by Imperial Minister of Foreign Affairs, Cao Shicai, and a troupe of Imperial Guards flying the Imperial standard and the flag of Trans-Amur. Upon meeting the Ambassador, Minister Cao bows his head in respect which is simulatenously followed by a salute from the Imperial Guards.
Raising his head, Minister Cao addresses Vadinkov, "Your Excellency, I welcome you to Sheng China and the proud city of Beiping. I and the city itself are relieved and over-joyed to see you safe and in one piece."
Minister Cao turns to gesture between the parallel standing lines of Imperial Guards flanking a blue carpet. At the end of the standing rows of guards is a waiting limousine. "If you would follow me, I will escort you to the Audience Hall at the Beiping Palace. Grand Prince Sheng Wei awaits us there. He sends his apologies for not meeting you himself, but he is feeling unwell and exposure to the cold air will only exasperate it."
The Minister then descends down the carpet toward the car with the Ambassador. On arrival the doors are opened the the Minister gestures for the Ambassador to and his entourage to enter the spacious suv limousine. Once all are inside the vehicle pulls away and begins driving toward Beiping Palace to meet with Grand Prince Wei.
"I will of course hold my questions about your terrible ordeal until we meet with the Prince so that he may also hear it. All I ask though is that you will allow us to escort you and your entourage back to Trans-Amur when our summit is complete; so that we may assure your safety." The Minister earnestly asks him while opening the small bar that the cabin had; revealing the small cache of bottles of various spirits. "Would your Excellency care for anything? I hear that a common drink in the north is Vodka and Tarasun. I even acquired Sbiten if you wish something non-alcholic." He gestured to the Ambassador's advisor and bodyguards offering the same.
"Also, please feel free to ask me anything on the way to the palace." Minister Cao mentions as the limousine enters the city proper and begins heading down the main boulevard where the gate to the palace proudly stands tall.
Looking over the armored prince, Jin-ho chuckles dismissively at Zixin's assertion. "Must I remind you of your illustrious cousin, your highness?" He questions as he kicks off from the wall where he had been leaning and sipping his drink. Jin-ho proceeds to elaborate on his own question. "The very great and powerful yet majestic and serene Grand Prince of Sheng China, Sheng Zhang Wei. The man is a fairytale prince in nearly every way and he still inspires literal armies of hardened veteran soldiers to obey his every command with fervent enthusiasm."
Jin-ho shoos away the pages as he places himself next to the Prince and looks with him at their reflections in the mirror. "Let the drama character look be your strength, your highness. People, even soldiers, are looking for larger than life figures to inspire them and make their lives worth something." He adjusts the prince's cape so that where it joins the shoulders' pauldrons lays flat and symmetrically.
Happy with the prince's look, Jin-ho takes a step back to look over Zixin. With a pleased hum and nod looking over the attractive general to be he continues, "So, as they say, 'turn into the skid.' Be empowered by your tv drama look. Speaking from a place of total confidence in yourself, including how you look, they'll love it. They'll fawn over you AND serve your every command with enthusiasm."
"Wouldn't you agree, Zhensu?" Jin-ho asks looking over his shoulder at the disgruntled prince's secretary with a wink. "The fairy tale prince of our dreams!"
(Ooc: I've been dragging pretty bad too so dont feel bad. Its a stressful time for all of us i think.)
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!
Sheng China, Tokora, and Tam Amisgal
Merry Christmas!
Argent, Sheng China, and Tam Amisgal
As much as she hated to admit it, Zhensu knew that Jin-ho was right. The prince needed to do everything and anything to boast his position and image if their grand scheme were to work. A public profile as a 'larger than life figure' and idealized 'fairy tale prince' would launch him in public opinion and into the upper stratosphere of the empire's power circles.
With a hard swallow of her nerve and desire to physically harm Jin-ho, Zhensu stepped forward with a nod, "I agree." She announces aloud. "Jin-ho is speaking truthfully. Confidence is key."
Zhensu has been the prince's personal secretary for almost 10 years. Even if Jin-ho has Zixin's attention at the moment, she knows the prince and how he works. She could see the slightest sign of uneasiness in his face at the moment over the situation and their push for him to play the new role. Knowing the prince for so long however allowed her to know just what buttons to push to get the necessary result.
The secretary then walked over to the near wall adorned with ornately embroidered draperies. Prince Zixin watches Zhensu as she strolls across the room. Grabbing ahold of the central drapery depicting an epic of dragons dancing among the heavenly clouds, Zhensu gives the cloth a hard tug that brings it to the ground.
"What are you doing?!" Zixin snaps in alarm at Zhensu making a mess of his office.
Now on the floor, the drapery reveals on the wall behind it, a large official grand portrait of the Grand Empress on the Imperial throne. The portrait, mandatory in audience halls and office spaces in Sheng, looms over everyone in the room. Zixin keeps it covered outside of official meetings to avoid the Grand Empress' piercing judgmental stare.
Gesturing to the painting, Zhensu explains, "The Grand Empress, the Grand Prince, and the rest of the Imperial clan have the air of divine right and supremacy not because they have actually each been personally imbued with Heaven's Mandate by any sort of celestial power, but because they are fully confident that they have it anyway." Noticing the slightest twitch of Zixin's face in building anger with the mention and comparing to the imperial family, Zhensu knows that she has his attention.
Abandoning the portrait and advancing upon the next wall depicting the global map of the empire Zhensu casts her hand over the image, "The entire Imperial system is based on the confidence of the Sheng dynasty in their divine right to rule. Everything the Imperials do is a show of their confidence in that right."
Turning away from the map and walking to the mirror that stands in front of Zixin, Zhensu looks at the prince and then looks at the image of him in the mirror. "Exude confidence and your lessors will fall in line. Your position as prince allows you that confidence and the room in which to act like you have it without question. Play the part and you won't fail." She assures him.
Zixin mulls Zhensu's words as he looks at himself in the mirror with his armor; considering how the people do like heroic looking figues. His eyes flick back to the critical harsh stare of the Empress' portrait on the near wall. He thinks of Jin-ho's words that echo much the same as Zhensu's. Ultimately he comes to the conclusion that he can play the part. He is after all a royal prince and his grooming has given him the confidence and ego to carry himself otherwise. This ploy is no different. The added support of Jin-ho supporting his command and Zhensu's strategies will get him through.
"You're right. Both of you. Of course you're right!" Zixin finally exclaims. "I am Sheng Zixin, a Prince of Sheng. A flick of my wrist and well placed smile, I'll have them eating out of the palm of my hand." He chortles loudly, filling the room with his laughter. Making for the door, Zixin calls back to Jin-ho and Zhensu, "Let's to war then!"
"And to war we shall go." Jin-ho smiles with a mischievous chuckle. Pulling away from Prince Zixin's side, Jin-ho reopens the interface in his bionic forearm. A few command strokes and the strategic map of southern Arabia is projected onto the large screen the descends from the ceiling of the office.
The map shows that much of the interior of Sheng Arabia is highlighted in red denoting that it is occupied or hostile. Much of the coastline and major city areas are blue showing the Chinese areas of control.
Jin-ho draws their attention to the western interior city labeled Sana'a, which while itself blue is completely surrounded by red. "Sana'a is besieged. Our campaign's primary priority is lifting the siege. If the city falls to the rebels it will take nothing less than carpet bombing the city to get them out of it. With control of Sana'a the entire west of Yemen is theirs." A another command into the interface in his arm shows the region fall an intimidating solid red block.
"When we have control of Sana'a it will be a spring board from which we can launch attacks onto the rest of the region and regain control." With another command, Jin-ho shows a break in the siege and blue arrows the emanating out from Sana'a with the surrounding territories turning blue. "The enemy will be driven out of the west and forced into the desert region where they won't be able to survive."
Casting his hand to the more south westerly region of Yemen, Jin-ho brings the maps focus onto the city of Ta'izz. Another interior city held by the empire but with the encroaching red line of the rebels. "First, before we reach Sana'a, we must march north and break the advance encroaching on Ta'izz. Meeting the rebels head on near the city of Ibb. Ta'izz must be protected or Aden will be left exposed."
Jin-ho swipes his hand over interface on his forearm which shuts it down and snaps the television off. "Sounds easy enough, doesn't it?" He chuckles before heading for the door. Taking hold of the door knobs, Jin-ho throws open the large doors of the office.
He turns back to look at the Prince, "Your army is ready to march. So let's mount up, your highness. We have a lot of ground to cover while the sun still shines and you still have to parade from the city with the army to show off your dreamy fairytale princeliness to the public."
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