NationStates Jolt Archive

Queen of Allanea Permanent Strategic Fort, Allanea's mainland

The heavy Skinnian spacecraft begins to land slowly and carefully. It is a VIP transport of sorts right now, and the pilot simply cannot afford to screw this one up – and it is raining, too.

The steel doors open, and a hospital gurney is wheeled out. Tied to the gurney is an unconscious man. IF you look closely, you will see that this is Al-Ghazi, the famous Kahanistani general. He is out on ketamine – in a medically induced coma.

Kazansky walks past as the gurney is wheeled towards one of the large elevators, normally serving to lift aircraft out of the deep bowels of the Fort. “I want a complete medical check-up on him before he begin.”

A few hours later

“Oh well.” - Kazansky shrugs as he finishes reading the report. - “Don't wake him up from the coma until you're done – do a lyposuction to remove as much extra fat as you medically can, do a transplant to replace his phallus, and while you are at it, have a dentist look at his teeth. Remove his appendix if he still has it. And bring him out of the coma once he starts healing.”

The room prepared for Al-Ghazi is several hundred meters underground, under thick layers of rock and concrete – like most of the things in a Permanent Strategic Bunker. When he wakes up, it is lit by a brilliant white light – but of course, there are no windows, and it is not possible to know whether it is night or day outside.

The author of “The Amestrians and their Lies” is lying on his hospital bed, his hands and legs tied down so he can't move. He has an IV in him, too.

When he wakes up, Kazansky is on a seat at the foot of his bed, looking at him.

“Greetings, General.”

He makes careful notice not to mention the time of day.

General Abdullah Hassan al-Ghazi, the feared Supreme General of the Republic, commander of the Kahanistanian armies, inspirational Nationalist politician, and foaming-at-the-mouth anti-Amestrian racist, stirred from his K-hole, where he had not been since his days in the Academy. For a man of fifty, that was a very long time ago indeed.

The first thing he noticed upon waking was a pain in his abdomen, where his appendix and about ten kilos of fat used to be. The second was a fullness under his Fruit of the Looms; he must have a new dick. The third was the Allanean butcher who had just killed many of his staff.

"You!" he roared. He struggled to sit up, but felt the restraints against his arms and legs.

“This is indeed a wise observation.” – nodded Kazansky. – “Yes, it is me.”

He remained unperturbed. When the other person is tied up, you can afford to be unperturbed.

“You know, you are tied up for a reason. Namely your stitches. I recommend you calm down. If you even do manage to tear these restraints, you would do worse damage to your body by trying to kill me then you would ever be able to do to me. I am armed and healthy, you are unarmed and have cuts in uncomfortable places in your body.”

“Perhaps you would like to discuss things… more rationally, General?”

Al-Ghazi grunted. Sure, he was insane, by most standards. He was, after all, the man who thrust his nation into a war with Automagfreek when that nation's population was five times its, and dared to threaten Dreadfire with destruction by Allah.

However, one can be insane without being stupid, and General al-Ghazi was most definitely not stupid. He was also in too much pain to fight, in spite of the fact that he would have liked nothing more than to rip this arrogant Allanean's head off and defecate down his neck.

"What do you want to discuss with me?" the general said in a low, angry voice. "You ran out, murdered my staff, dragged me out of my office, and brought me here. What can we discuss here that we couldn't discuss in my office?"

“Let’s put things in order. I came to your office with the intention to kidnap you, General Al-Ghazi. My initial intent was to just kidnap you and walk out past your guards. But the wimps under your command insulted Her Majesty, Miriel nos Feanor, accusing her of being untrue to her word and a traitor, and further offended the honor of the queen in various ways. I may have overreacted slightly. That is besides the point.”

“The point is, General, is that I am familiar with your great military talent. After the MOAB incident, I realized you were… losing your grip on your own talent, so to speak – I even believed you were in need of medical help, as indeed you were. You are here so that I could administer that help.”

“As for me being a murderer, yesterday I saved five million Kahanistani from certain death, or worse, by extracting them from the country. I will yet save more.”

“As for my purpose… this is a bit… complex for now, I think."

It'd be just like Norton, al-Ghazi thought grimly. He never had any love for the Allaneans, and he thought I was mad.

"The MOAB incident was regrettable," said al-Ghazi. "But we have not had Catholic or anti-Catholic violence in the capital since. Don't tell me that you wouldn't kill civilians if it helped you strategically. Look at what you're doing in Questers. Of course, I hope we can force them to the negotiating table, so that we can focus on our true enemies, the Doomani, and wipe their cult from the face of the earth." While al-Ghazi did not hate Catholics in general, he detested the Doomani Church as destroyers of a potential source of spiritual truth.

"What medical help have you seen fit to administer?" He knew he had a new penis, which must have been pretty big from the way his underwear felt, and he knew that he'd lost some fat, but what had been done to him that he didn't know about?

“We would kill civilians no doubt – though I would like to point out we have stood our Strategic Air Command from population reduction duties. But we would not kill our own civilians to resolve an issue that was already being dealt with. I already had troops in the area that outnumbered the Clandonians twenty to one and was busy hunting them all down. There was completely no point in that suicidal move of yours.”

“As for Kahanistan, your army cannot hold the line against the combined Northfordian-Doomani-Questarian zerg spam. Nor could it ever, with it's inept bunker planning and the immense numbers of the enemy. As such, I am taking measures to evacuate Kahanistani civilians. While I hope we will crush the Questarians before Kahanistan falls, I have little hope for it. But I have prepared an alternative.”

He unwraps a map.

“This is an island recently discovered by our GeoSat system. As you know our planet has a lot, and a lot of stuff on it's surface, more then it should geometrically fit. This is an example of that. The island is uninhabited, and will serve as the new Kahanistani homeland. It is there that the refugees are being landed.”

“As for the treatment – ever heard of the old Re-Neuron therapy?”

General al-Ghazi's jaw clenched. He glared angrily at his restraints, and it was clear he wanted them removed. However, he did not speak about them. He was more angry about the perceived insult to his military forces.

"I can't imagine the more nationalistic of my people will accept this idea," said the general. He knew that tens of thousands of people had deliberately remained in the Doomani-occupied Negev Desert after the Allaneans had shown up, but they had been mostly religious fanatics of various cults united only by hatred of the Doomani.

"My forces are more than capable of driving the Doomani and their evil allies back into the sea," al-Ghazi continued firmly. "It is the Kriegos that worry me; our forces on that front are very weak, with the exception of the navy. Our forces are concentrated to resist a northern invasion."

"No, I have not heard of the Re-Neuron therapy. Is this something that changes someone's personality?"

“Re-Neuron basically allows your brain and general nerve cells to regenerate. On a basic level, this makes you more intelligent and improves your memory. This will be followed up by various rejuvenation technology. As for your military..”

Kazansky pushes a remote control into Al-Ghazi’s hand. “Here. Press this button.”

The entire wall behind Kazansky lit up as a huge screen. It was filled with writing, sized so that Al-Ghazi could read it with some semblance of comfort from his bed.

“This is an analysis of your bunker line. As you see, at is rather factual and filled with engineering analysis of why…” – suddenly Kazansky’s voice changed:

“WHY KAHANISTANI BUNKER DESIGN FAILS COMPLETELY WITHOUT REDEMPTION!”

He grinned. “Take your time. We will talk after you complete this. Not like you have anything better to do, anyhow.” And then Kazansky left.

This Re-Neuron could help those of our troops who have suffered brain damage, the General thought.

He looked over the Allanean analysis of Kahanistanian military bunkers. They were large concrete igloos reinforced with titanium rods, mounted with machine guns or rocket launchers, and capable of withstanding up to a 305mm shell. They would not stand up to the 406mm Doomani bunker-busting shells.

General al-Ghazi dropped the remote in disgust. He didn't want to sit here and have his military dragged through the mud by this Allanean mass murderer.

The failure of the Kahanistani to conceal their bunkers, and to install greater amounts of mounted weapons and remote-controlled weapons turrets is a key factor in what is taking place today… the Kahanistani failure is yet again traceable to lack of firepower, lack of training, and most importantly to what would be referred to as ‘giant amounts of epic fail’ on the intermediate command and execution level, i.e. incompetence and severe lack of funding…

What Al-Ghazi did not yet realize was that the nanites for the neural regeneration treatment were already in his blood. Very soon, he would get a better memory, become even smarter then he already was, and be able to think faster. But more importantly, he was being fed intravenously. He would not need to move at all – and the room was boring. The lighting was soft and never changed, making sure he could fall asleep – but give him no indication of time passing. The only entertainment he had was the document ahead of him.

As such, he would simply have to read it – or go mad with boredom.

Bullshit. Our troops are highly trained. Yes, we could stop using the bunkers as psychological tools of intimidation... Intimidation might work well against the Northfordians, against whom the defences were designed. However, Doomani did not intimidate so easily - hence the nailing of prisoners to crescent moons, upside-down crosses, and Stars of David - and they had massive shells that could flatten a bunker.

He would have to shoot a lot of the mid-level officers in charge of the defensive lines whenever he got out of here.

The Allanean returned eventually – after the hidden surveillance cameras showed Al-Ghazi was growing restive.

“Do you see it now?” – he smiled at Al-Ghazi – “The Kahanistani military is horrendously inept. Happily, this will not cost the nation significant amounts of civilian lives… but the point remains, these people are unable to defend their own freedom. Which is why they have me… and, to some extent, you.”

General al-Ghazi narrowed his eyes in anger. "Release me from these restraints," he said coldly. It was the first time he had made his displeasure about being restrained known.

"You have much criticism for my nation's forces, but you have little in the way of useful information. If you feel my forces are so incompetent, perhaps you could tell me what they should be doing."

“Do you ask me what I think they should be doing right now, or what should have been done before the war? Before the war, you should have built better defense systems and had a bigger army. Now... I think the war will be over within a month, maybe two. All they need to do is play for time – and evacuate as many civilians as they can. I think you should move your civilian population and administrative centers to the new homeland I have prepared for you.”

“As for the restraints... they are not here to prevent your supposed escape. I am physically stronger then you, and I have a gun – three guns, actually, and a sword.. The room is observed by camera, so should you manage to overpower me, the door will lock from the outside. If you manage to somehow break through the door, you will be intercepted by the dozen of troops outside, who all wear powered armor – so even if you took my guns, you could not shoot them with them. After that there's the trifling matter of having to fight the million and a half Allanean troops in this fortress.”

“Anyway, the restraints are not to prevent your escape, your escape is impossible. They are only here to prevent you from ripping out your stitches. They will be removed after we have completed the cycle of surgery.”

"Like I really want to rip out my stitches," said al-Ghazi sarcastically. "How long will this cycle of surgery take?"

The general groaned. "The civilian government and roughly one and a half million civilians fled to the parts of Africa you liberated from the Doomani. Many others have left for the four corners of the earth. Relocate them to this island if you wish; I doubt that the spineless civilian President would object."

"How goes your invasion of Questers, and the subsequent removal of them as a threat to our forces?"

“Oh, the invasion is proceeding smoothly, General. I believe we will be in London in a week or two if stuff goes on as it does now. “ –said Kazansky – “But calm yourself. I promise you I will save as many Kahanistani as I humanly can. You need rest – you have more surgeries coming up, and study, too. You must get ready for bigger and better things.”

"What more do you want to do to me surgically?" al-Ghazi asked. He sounded aghast at the idea of being operated on. "And what do you want me to study?"

The Allanean shrugged: “I am thinking of an advanced biocomputer system to enhance your memory, hearing, and vision, and enable you for compatibility and direct nervous interface control of military systems. As for study… you are a soldier, Al-Ghazi. I plan to make you a warrior, a great one, to make the sky shudder and the earth tremble with your might.”

“I offer you a new life – a life of true, unlimited greatness of which you are so worthy.”

This seems like a good idea... but there's got to be a catch. He's already killed a load of my troops and pulled out of the country.

"What's the catch?"

"There is only one catch. I want you to resign from your post and become an Allanean Freeman. Do not worry about the Kahanistani - with your aid, we will ensure their safety and freedom. After this war, you will aid me in leading Her Majesty's armies to countless victories in Her honor." - Kazansky's eyes met Al-Ghazi's, glowing with enthusiasm that nearly matched the Kahanistani's madness.

General al-Ghazi smiled. His smile turned into a sick, twisted grin.

"Will we destroy Doomingsland?" he asked. "And bring those nations that have made unprovoked war with Kahanistan under my people's dominion? Raise the Allanean and Kahanistanian flags over the smoking ruins of Maximus' palace in Urbs Doomanus?"

"Eventually." -grinned Kazansky - "Eventually. Right now I am dealing with Kraven. But I promise you, Maximus' time will come. However..." - the grin became twisted - "I place dibs on his skull and heart."

"Very well," said al-Ghazi. "I will join you, and mount Maximus' testicles in the hilt of my sword. For now, however... what do you want me to do?"

Kazansky shrugged. "Read. I am going to provide you with access to my library of military theory - you can read your books here. Your next operation is in five days."

"Will you remove the restraints?" asked the general. "I have... reading to do."

“Very well.” - said Kazansky, pressing a button on Al-Ghazi's bed. - “Here. You can use the remote to access texts from my database.”

And so Al-Ghazi remained for five days, reading books about the theory of war. He could now turn the lights in his room on and off as he wished, and he also had access to Kazansky's immense database of music to entertain him – terabytes of MP3 and OGG files.

On the fifth day, he was submerged into a medically-induced coma again. He would be given a version of the test-stage Darwin biocomputer. The only difference between his version and original plans for the Darwin would be that his eyes would not be removed. Instead, electrodes would be spliced into his optical center, allowing the Darwin to feed data that would be displayed as if overlapping the usual field of vision, like an HUD in the brain.

Now there would be a time for a truly long rest.

The general laid down as he prepared to be operated on, knowing not what would be done to him exactly. He knew that he had lost the tire around his gut, had neural enhancement, and had a much larger khram than he had had before his old combat injury.

Now, he had begun reading on Allanean tactical theory and what he could find on MassPwnage, Doomingsland, and Automagfreek. He also looked for anti-Xirniumite information. (He had written the book on anti-Amestrianism. There was no need to cover old ground.)

And on the seventh day he rested.

“Very well.” – Kazansky nods as he sees Al-Ghazi’s body being moved into an operating room. “By the way, Doctor, did you check out his medical data?”

“Yes. We decided to do a LASIC surgery while we are at it. He will have to rest some more, but when we’re done, he will have twenty-twenty eyesight.”

“Fucking awesome.” – grinned the President.

* *

The Xirniumites are among the world’s most disgusting vermin as far as social systems go. While they do not commit atrocities of overt fashion, the great tragedy of Xirnium is it’s outright murder of the human soul. The Xirniumites are not allowed the slightest freedom in educating their own children, resulting in generations where the opinion is virtually uniform on any kind of key issue – the welfare state, the tax system, sex, foreign policy. Further, they practice the same kind of disgusting ‘regle des experts’ as the Amestrians, compounded by having actual nobles in charge…

* *

The Allanean social system is based on the principles of informalism, the tolerance towards a thousand of subcultures flowering together in one society – furries, Satanists, incestual twin brothers, Muslims, Christians, Scientologists, Sirithilists…

* *

The great drawback of most modern ground tactics doctrines is ignoring the value of the trench, the temporary wood/earth firing position, the minefield, the entrenched armored vehicle…

As General al-Ghazi pored over the Allanean texts, he noted deep in his heart that Kahanistan and Allanea were very, very similar. In both nations, parents were allowed to educate their own children, though in Kahanistan the state conducted assessments of home-schooled and private-schooled children to make sure they were learning minimal standards in mathematics, science, government, and language of instruction. As Kahanistan had four official languages (Arabic, English, Hebrew, and Latin), fluency in any one of those four languages was sufficient to pass the minimal language standard, though almost all people in Kahanistan spoke at least a second language fluently, and many spoke three. For second languages, Chinese, French, Russian, and Spanish were popular, with Isselmerian and Pacitalian gaining currency.

In both nations, furries, Satanists, incestual twin brothers, Muslims, Christians, Scientologists, Sirithilists… mixed together.

In both militaries, soldiers heavily used the trench, wood-earth firing position, minefield, and entrenched armoured vehicle in their defences.

The difference between victory and defeat had to lay elsewhere...

Indeed, the nations were similar. And yet, it was a known fact that Kahanistan's field commanders were not the best in the world. During the occupation era, they had used massive human-wave tactics against fortified Doomani positions as a 'guerilla' tactic, in the complete opposite. In other conflicts as well, the Kahanistani often acted in violation of basic laws of military science. Even their tanks were afflicted by the same disease, like the Spartacus. Kazansky's library contained analysis of major conflicts by various authors, Allanean, Dersconi, even Doomani.

In the meanwhile, as Al-Ghazi began to heal after his surgery, he would begin perhaps to adapt to his implant. The Darwin was not designed to be a be all and end all of computers – it would give one only limited abilities, much less impressive then even the weakest desktop – but they were now part of his body. He could now run keyword searches with a single thought, confirm a piece of statistical data without as much as moving, or even control the devices in his room without using the remote.

Even this technology was far above Kahanistanian capabilities. That nation was so technologically conservative that it took the threat of the fall of the Negev to persuade generals what engineers had known for years - that ETC and similar weaponry was critical to maintaining the ability to fight in the changing times.

When they finally did accept ETC as part of their military hardware, they built a 75-ton, heavily armoured main battle tank, decked it out with a large chaingun for neutralising lightly armoured threats - and then gave it a 105mm ETC as a main gun. The designers said that this was to save weight for armour, that if it needed to penetrate another tank's armour an ATGM could be fired.

However, the interior proved to be less able to stock large numbers of ATGM's than the field commanders had thought, with the crews and the 40mm chaingun ammo and the ordinary 105mm shells it also had to carry. The huge vehicle also had difficulty crossing bridges, and went down in mud like a huge rock.

As al-Ghazi's mind adapted to his neural implants, he began to feel even more powerful than he had before. The general began to read about Doomani military tactics, and those of nations that had opposed the Doomani, such as their current slave-allies Questers and Praetonia, and Sarzonia, which he (and most of his saner compatriots) considered to be morally vastly superior to the Questarians or Praetonians. He wanted to crush Doomingsland. He wanted to rape the Empress and sire the next puppet Emperor himself. He wanted to burn their capital to the ground.

“Greetings, General Al-Ghazi. I believe it is now time to commence your new training.” – smiled Kazansky. Before the Kahanistani could make a move to stand up, the Fieldmarshal shook his head. “Oh no, no, you are not healthy enough to get up yet. Our first lesson will be one which will test your knowledge and understanding.”

“From now on, you are my personal disciple. I will not hereafter address your as ‘General Al-Ghazi’, but as ‘Abdullah’. You will address me in whatever form you will find appropriate. ‘Master’ is quite good enough. I will reward every success of yours richly, and will punish your transgressions harshly.”

“Now, Abdullah, from a purely military standpoint, what are the disadvantages of an organized military force as opposed to a guerilla army?”

Abdullah frowned. He figured he was going to be shocked like a lab rat if his answer was at variance with Kazansky's. The Allaneans were likely just sick enough to do that.

"Organised military forces stand out where guerrillas can blend with the population. Organised military forces have logistical trains that can be easily disrupted, while neutralising guerrilla logistics requires widespread destruction of the local population, which is more resource intensive. Organised military forces can be identified, while guerrillas may not be traceable to a particular faction."

The old warrior eyed Kazansky nervously, awaiting his reply.

“Awesome.” – said Kazansky.

“The big issue – as you correctly said – that conventional militaries are resource-intensive. By focusing vast amounts of resources together, they are able to create intensively powerful weapons and deploy them. For example, a single Nakil tank costs as much as four thousand assault rifles, and can do far more damage.”

“The drawback is that to get that tank to the warzone, you need more then just the tank. You need the tank transporter, you need people to maintain the tank and it’s ammunition, fuel it and so forth. And these people are also going to be in the warzone, and they’re much less protected as the guys in the tank – and since they need to learn how to become maintenance men, they can’t be as effective in combat as regular infantry. Smart guerilla forces will strike at these people – or they will even strike at the tank crew when they are out of the tank – after all, they need to come out at some point.”

“The guerilla possesses much less firepower. Very often he’s not even a full-time fighter – imagine, for instance, a farmer who works his farm. But once a day he opens some hideout, unwraps his Quassam launcher, and fires a rocket at the vague direction of the enemy. Such a man would depend little on other guerillas. Even killing him outright would have little effect on the movement as a whole.”

“A man with a rifle doesn’t need anything from supporting forces asides for food and ammo for his rifle. He can die, and in fact likely will die – guerillas usually take vast casualties – but his death will not do much to disrupt the actions of his other comrades.”

“It is obvious that under these circumstances it is idiotic for guerillas to meet enemy forces head-on – like the idiots in Najaster did – but to target these support forces is just the thing.”

And so the conversation continued. Kazansky explained a variety of features of modern warfare, concentrating on the ground forces and their necessities. When Al-Ghazi grew bored, Kazansky let the man control the conversation, switching it to different rails. His aim, for now, was to keep Al-Ghazi entertained – and learn as much about him as possible.

"I do not command guerrillas," said al-Ghazi. "I was not in command of the resistance; I believe a member of the intelligence service was the overall commander, but most of the decisions were made by lower guerrilla leaders. When the Allaneans came, I believe the people were confident that they would join, and decided to try to free as many people from the prisons as they could."

"During that conflict, I was in hiding on some miserable rock. I figured the Amestrians would have given up looking for me after the Doomani invasion, believing me to be dead. So, I went back to my people."

He sat back, waiting for the Allanean to continue the conversation.

“I am not accusing you of anything. On the contrary, I am showing you that there are two separate things – you, Abdullah, and the Kahanistani military culture. Your talent is too big to be tied down by the wimpified mommy’s boys that are the Kahanistani. This is why I chose you to be my disciple.

“Now anyway. When we are done, you will be in charge of creation of several special operations units for the Allanean Armed Forces. It is for this reason that you will study guerilla warfare extensively.”

"Very well," said al-Ghazi, letting the insult pass and accessing the first guerrilla warfare file he could find. "What do you want me to read on in particular?" Even the seasoned general had no idea how little he knew until he was implanted.

“Very well. The first thing I want you to read on are files on personal training. We are going to start small – I want you to merge yourself into the emotional experience of a Special Operations traineer. Read Art of the Rifle (http://www.paladin-press.com/detail.aspx?ID=66), read books about Werewolfen and Partisans, Sentinels and Daggers. Contemplate how these people’s heads works.”

What does a trained soldier need to know about rifles that I didn't learn at the Academy? The general nosed through the books, and read about the Werewolfen and heroic Partisans, evil Sentinels, and Daggers until he was bored stiff.

Serious fastforwarding

Kazansky would arrive every day, questioning Al-Ghazi about his studies. Step by step, he would immerse him into learning about killing – the ins and outs of the art of destruction, which the General would now relearn from scratch. And every day, he would focus on the impact of psychology. “Who you are and who you fight are two linked questions. Look at the Kravenites and the Allaneans - one society has not the most basic respect for human life and individuality, the other is a bastion of freedom. Does this not reflect in their soldiers?”

"The Kraven soldiers are all the same," said al-Ghazi. "Mindless, emotionless subhumans in black armour, told only to kill for the sake of building the strength of the Corporation." Apparently he hadn't gotten the memo; Father had been destroyed by the Kraven Master Reichmarshal Helghan, with the aid of a Kahanistanian officer.

"The Allanean soldier, on the other hand... is not typical. There are furry brigades, Trekkie brigades, and brigades of any interest one can think of. It's absolutely unprofessional."

"The Kraven soldier has no passion, no drive to fight save for following orders. The Allanean soldier wants to fight, to free people, to protect people."

“That is correct. Now do you see why we beat the Kravenites in Kahanistan?” - grins Kazansky. - “And by the way, there's a reason why we have the Trekkie Mechanized Infantry and other such forces. Again, the reason is one of applied military psychology.”

"I see," said al-Ghazi. "This is also the reason why I have used tactics no other Kahanistanian general would tolerate. Under no other commander would we have resorted to the terror bombing of Northford and Kriegorgrad, or 'crucified' captives on Stars of David, crescent moons, or upside-down crosses. No other commander in our forces is as brutal as any Doomani. Brutality is the only language we share with them, as I don't speak Doomani Latin." Al-Ghazi chuckled.

"Now I see how General Levitt lasted in the military as long as she did. She's totally Allaneanised. Not as brutal as I am, but would get along great with your troops. Unfortunately, President al-Omari saw fit to move her to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where her talents rot."