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Approximately forty-five miles into Lower Egyptian territory's north-westernmost stretches.


They had long ago forgotten about their broken sleep, their unwilling blundering about in the dark, their wet feet and even their heaving lungs; now it was a matter of minutes - would they knock out the perseverance of these continued border infringements or wouldn't they? Who would come out on top? It was touch and go. Every man understood this, every man the himself into the spirit of the attack and Ibrahim with them. Their pouches crammed full of ammunition, they fired with reckless enthusiasm, deafened by the sound of their own shots, choking on their own excitement as they slashed and slashed at the mist with bullets. Wherever he could, Ibrahim did his best to stop his platoon from firing at their own side. He suddenly noticed that he was firing from his own side-arm, although this was completely pointless. Then over a ditch and through a hedge they jumped, and now they were having to leap over bodies too - not Douleur, but Egyptian bodies.

Fear and pride gripped him at the same time: keep it up, we're doing fine - say what you like, but we know how to fight. Now they were fighting in a village, taking cover behind houses, sticking their heads round corners, outflanking Egyptian strongpoints. There was no holding the guerrilla forces as they charged in with fixed bayonets, and Ibrahim felt as strange satisfaction as he blazed away. He hit and wounded a signaler, who was at once taken prisoner. All the while a yellow orb on their left had been growing brighter and brighter, until it finally burst through - the sun. A faint crack was heard from behind a distant wood, the sound grew nearer and an Egyptian shrapnel shell burst in a similarly yellow cloud ahead of them, slight above the town's towering minaret and to the left of it. Soon after the enemy had once more retaliated, after a short bombardment, by advancing on them from the north, not in a skirmishing line but in a column of march, so confident were they after their earlier success that day.

At once however, all twenty-five of the Berber guns having completed their registration shots, opened up with an oblique hail of shrapnel on the advancing troops from five concealed firing positions, dousing them with black fountains of high explosive and driving them back until they disappeared into the surrounding scrubland and behind the folds of the far-off desert dunes. Meanwhile the Douleur infantry battalions hurriedly dug themselves in while the Egyptians were halted and silenced. The sun crawled slowly above the low-lying clouds of dawn.Everything was still obscured in swirling mist, but it now began to thin out and everything grew clearer.

They could see the heavy dew which had settled on their rifle-bolts and bayonets, some of which were streaked with blood. As they were on such high ground, the fog was rapidly dispersing in wisps and the men's faces were plain to see, panting, elated with the savage joy of battle. And Ibrahim felt the same. Blue, red and orange droplets glinted on what little grass overcame the otherwise cripplingly arid conditions here, and the sunshine of the new day was already shedding its warmth over them - the victors. Somehow it was all over with surprising ease.

This was no hollow boast, no hearsay account of other men's deeds: a guard detail drawn from men of their own battalion was escorting through the village a column of about three hundred prisoners and a handful of officers, squinting glumly into the sun, some without caps, some having lost their carbines. And after the roll-call only three men in Ibrahim's battalion were reported killed and a dozen or so wounded, only on of whom was from his platoon. His men had kept together and were now cheerfully strolling about and swooping stories. Meanwhile the surrounding countryside was slowly emerging from the fog like a cunningly lit theatre set: height, depth and perspective began to fall into place. Right down into the nearby dunes everything stood precisely delineated and contrasted - things and creatures, living and dead, sunlight above and shadow in the valley, the greenery and the colors of field and garden.

From the top of the slope where they stood in the village, they could clearly see a column of several hundred turbans being led away, and beyond it piles of corpses struck down by Berber precision-shot. No longer in a hurry, no longer running, no longer afraid, Ibrahim sat watching it all from a bench behind a garden fence where he sat down to rest. Still possessed by a strange sense of triumph, he was bursting with elation at having had a part in a victory which had not been merely scored in verbal debate but won with his body, his own arms and legs. He sat there as though he was the great commander-in-chief in whose honor the deafened enemy was being led past in triumph below. The troops were given no time to rest; they had been ordered to dig in on the edge of the village. Ibrahim had to pass the order on to them, but he was not expected to do any digging himself and could stay sitting on his bench to admire the theatrical spectacle of the captured village and the blindingly bright swells of the orange dunes reflecting the sun's rays. In the silence around him (all firing in the vicinity had stopped), he was able to savor his oy and analyze his sudden, new-found emotion.

@Monkeypants

I imagine NAU relations to Franco-Iberia to be a fruitful mixture of both cooperation and discord, much like it had been millennia before. Your loans and presence were probably unparalleled by other great powers in the democratic sphere, and as we're currently both somewhere along the leading-edge of neocolonialism and expansionism as well as technological and cultural progression, I see as being part of some close-knit Atlantic international committee. However, your cooperation with my greatest threat during the Great War has undoubtedly left some manner of a sour taste in the Franco-Iberian mouths, and I'm sure you American lot likewise realize that its unethical and ultimately impossible for a democracy to impose by force a government over a foreign population without considerable manpower and probably the use of unacceptable methods such as torture.

So, from what I've gathered, the belligerents of the Great War were as follows:

Eurasian Confederation

Combatant States

  • Empire of Novogrod
  • Kingdom of Cascadia
  • Middle Kingdom of the Great Han
  • Rijkdom of Jodesia


Affiliate States
  • North American Union
  • Varangian Revolutionary Insurrectionist Front



Central Entente

Combatant States

  • Coalition of Southern Africa
  • Confederate Republic of Oceos
  • Corporate Empire of Malagasy
  • Corporative Federation of Franco-Iberia
  • Kingdom of the Holy Hungarian League


Affiliate States

  • North American Union
  • People's Saharan Protectorate
  • Varangian National-Socialism Movement


something like t,his, right?
@Sigma

I mean, it wouldn't be out of the question for Jodesia to covertly supply the Egyptian guerrilla forces with whatever military presence it's been allowed by the international community so as to establish some sort of a proxy war that itself would serve as a manifestation of resentment and tension amongst the divided communities of Western Europe. But that's up to @Jig.
@Sigma

Do keep in mind that the PSP is essentially a satellite state of Franco-Iberia, benefitting from modern machinery in exchange for crude resources and border patrol. I've wrote a small blurb about them in my NS if you'd like to check it out.

The Arab Republic, on the other hand, is little more than an amalgam of nationalistic tribes and fortified strongholds vying for little international intrusion into its fair share of own strategic resources and acting as a physical incarnation of a modern decolonization movement.
Regarding Frano-Iberian attitudes concerning gene modifications and mutants/sub-humans of any sort, I'm assuming that because of the massive immigration rates following the Great Cataclysm, much like how France had dealt with population shifts in the hundreds of years prior, the Franco-Iberian culture has welcomed the recruitment of immigrants to once again stabilize its war-torn self into a period of reconstruction that required manpower on an equally massive scale, as long as those entering were willing to subject themselves, and ultimately assimilate to, the Franco-Iberian culture. However, this is not to say enemies of the state are always welcomed into the country's territories, especially those from the Arab Republic and, up until recently, Jodesia.

Also worth keeping in mind is the fact that as the world's population is once again in a resurgence of sorts, the economic strain and seemingly incessant immigration of nearly hundreds of thousands of refugees from the more climatic areas of the world, even if its something like genetically modified exiles from the NAU or Yao Guai from neighboring Asian communities, the Franco-Iberian government is on the verge of experiencing difficulty ensuring these traumatized and damaged peoples don't have to endure subsidized public housing and high unemployment rates whilst also acting as valuable members to the country's societal and economic systems, especially considering that assimilation or adherence to tradition values and cultural norms of the country has since been renounced by the government in hopes of instead simply integration these crowds without having them sacrifice their distinctive cultures.

This, however, places its own tensions and civil unrest upon the Franco-Iberian societal structure between local population and periodical influxes of radicalized newcomers.
@Shorticus

yeah, i've yet to fully flesh out their stance on modifications of that sort anyways.

@Shorticus

I imagine Franco-Iberia having considerable influence, and close ties, with Malagasy Ent., in Madagascar especially, as it would make sense for our historically bound nations to each house our fair share of expatriates, especially considering what I suspect to be sizable Malagasy diaspora due to relative proximity combined with those aforementioned strong bonds, in addition to you being a major agricultural purveyor in these war-torn times and I possessing much of the Eastern hemisphere's mechanical and electrical machinery production.
Of course, yeah, but you'd all complied with Willy's incessant obsession with frankly insignificant minutia of a similar vein so I thought I might get a word in here as well.
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