Mazaghean Woes

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Quartyr 1520

A man walked down a crowded street in Nalkop, the capital city of the Mazaghean Socialist Republic. Like everyone else, he wore a thick overcoat and stuffed his gloved hands into its pockets, trying to hold on to whatever warmth remained in his body. Snow fell and wind blew harshly. There were no warm greetings of friends, neighbors, or coworkers in the street, as everyone kept their eyes downcast to the path directly in front of them, taking the quickest route possible to their destination. This was no time for anything warm and friendly, and it was more than the weather which brought about such a state. War was brewing. The man could smell it on the air, and he knew what it smelled like. He was a natural soldier, a Mazaghe warrior born to the wrong time, he liked to think. He liked to think that he would have been more suited for those old days when the Mazaghes answered to no one but themselves. With dagger in one hand and flintlock in the other, he would have defended his homeland before it ever even knew the feeling of oppression.

The man buried his face deeper into his big fur collar. Now was not the time to fantasize. He turned down a side alley, away from the street, and was suddenly alone. Walking farther into the alley, he could hear, above the wind, his footsteps echo off the walls. Turning a corner, he could see three ruffians huddling together and smoking cigarettes. The man furrowed his brow. He had thought that even the criminal element would not risk freezing to death on the off-chance of mugging some bastard who was just as poor as they were. One of the ruffians spotted him and said something to the other two, and all three started his way. The man’s pace never changed, and he kept walking straight forward down the middle of the alleyway, as if he didn’t even notice the ruffians walking to intercept him. Inside his coat, however, his hand gripped a small pistol. It was dangerous to go about armed for fear of arrest. If the local police caught him, he might be able to bribe or persuade his way out. If the secret police got a whiff, however, he’d be in trouble. Despite the risk, the man would not dream of going out without a weapon on him. What use is a weaponless soldier? One of the ruffians lifted up his coat with one hand and reached inside with the other. The man tensed and within a second he would pull out his pistol. Just then, a door just down the alley swung open and the alley was bathed in yellow light.

“Stop! He is good,” said a voice from within. The three ruffians jerked to a stop, the one that was reaching for something pulled his hand out of his coat, empty, and they all went back to their original position. The man gratefully went through the open door. Inside was a small room with a table and a few chairs. Several men sat or stood around smoking or drinking. They were warmed and given light by a fire in the fireplace. The man that was standing closest to the door greeted the newcomer once the door was closed, “Hatal, my friend! It is good to see you. I hope you are in fine health.” The two men embraced.

“Tiguan, comrade,” Hatal said.

“Please, come and warm yourself.” Tiguan gave Hatal a glass of alcohol, let him light up a cigarette, and sit by the fire. “Allow me to introduce you, so that you may know who all is here. Of course you know Berasby.” Hatal nodded. Berasby Manshak was Nolkop’s deputy police commander, a longtime ally. “Guka Hebizhov from the transportation commissariate. You know Sergey.” Hatal shook each of their hands as they were introduced. These were men with influence and power. They were a few of the foundation stones of the movement.

There was one last man. “Miza has traveled all the way from Zarka to bring us news from Kubaniza,” Tiguan explained. Zarka was on the Kubanizan-Mazaghean border. With that, Miza had the floor as the others watched him, silently smoking.

“It is good news,” he began. “You all know that Gregor’s purges wreaked havoc in the army, but in Kubaniza it is showing its full effects. Kubanizan militias have begun to strike against the Red Army, and there are many good results. My contact has told me that last month, over five thousand weapons were stolen from various armories and arms factories throughout the republic. There is word that similar raids have taken place in Calgarov and Balochia.”

Hatal grinned. “It is as I had hoped. Our neighbors have decided to throw off the yoke of Communist Severyan oppression. Now it is time that we did our part.” He turned to Sergey. “What is the feeling in the Supreme Council?”

Sergey was a political insider. He was deeply entrenched in the inner circles of Mazaghea’s government. Like everyone at this meeting, he was taking an extreme risk. If the MGB were to become suspicious, it could be the end of them all. They had taken many precautions, of course, but the thought of the MGB kicking in the door and arresting them all was always at the back of one’s mind. “Not favorable,” Sergey said plainly. “The Supreme Council is filled with timidity and cowardice. Even after the purges and the suspension of the Kubanizan, Calgarovan, and Balochian governments, they believe that the worst has passed. They do not understand that Gregor Perov will not stop and cannot be stopped through normal means. They have a naive hope that the Party will force a return to normalcy.”

Tiguan shook his head in disgust. “These fools have no right to call themselves Mazaghes.”

“We can expect no less. No man finds himself on the Supreme Council without being beholden to Severograd through blackmail, bribery, or even genuine loyalty.”

“There are a few on the Council that secretly sympathize with the rebels. A few more waver in their loyalty. The Unionists still retain an iron grip on the Council, however, and that seems unlikely to change for now,” Sergey said.

“We have no other option, then, than to continue our preparations,” Tiguan said. “How have your ‘recruitment drives’ been faring, Hatal?”

“Very well. I have now almost a thousand men in the vicinity of the city ready to take up arms when I give the call. Thanks to Guka’s cooperation, we have been able to equip them all with adequate arms and ammunition. Within six months–”

Just then, one of the ruffians from outside burst in. “We have to move,” he said.

“What?” Tiguan asked, surprised.

“There’s a police patrol headed this way,” the ruffian explained.

Everyone looked at Berasby. “There should be none,” he said. “I made sure of it. There are no patrols in this neighborhood.”

“There is one now, anyway,” Hatal said. “Leave now. We will meet again at the next scheduled rendezvous.”

Tiguan went over to a different door than the one Hatal had entered through. “This way.” All of them stood up and hurried out, quickly disappearing into the city.

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Dein 1522

“This is sedition!” a man shouted.

“It is truth, but you are too afraid to hear it!” another responded.

“We should wait for more information, comrades! We cannot trust first reports!” a third pleaded.

“I’ve heard enough,” the first said. “You won’t be sitting so pretty when your words get back to the MGB.”

“The MGB is done! The Union is done!” the second retorted. “The whole rotten structure is collapsing in on itself. We must escape while we still can.”

“My friend, you speak in haste. These are only rebels–guerrillas, bandits!” the third said. “How can they defeat the behemoth that is the Socialist Union? How can we hope to survive against it?”

“Indeed!” the first interjected. “They are mere bandits and traitors, and when the Red Army marches back into Kubaniza and Calgarov and Balochia, they will all die traitors’ deaths!”

“The People’s Red Army is shattered,” the second said, speaking the name with obvious disgust. “Saratov is under attack, and Severyane itself is threatened. Now is the time to free ourselves from the bonds of tyranny!”

The Supreme Council was in disarray. A small group of councilors had come forward and demanded that Mazaghea secede from the Union, which was met by outrage from the most staunch Communists and less enthusiastic admonition from the more moderate councilors. The pro-secession councilors were emboldened by the recent string of defeats of the Red Army by rebel forces in Kubaniza, Calgarov, and Balochia. The Union military was in complete disarray, being forced to retreat almost entirely from the rebellious regions. In the middle of all this, a man dressed in military-looking fatigues with a holster on his hip stepped into the council chamber. He was followed by Police Commander Berasby Manshak (the former police commander had been killed several weeks earlier. His murder had been ruled a robbery-gone-wrong.) and two policemen.

“Councilors! I have wondrous news!” he declared loudly. The chamber quieted at the strange interruption. The man’s uniform did not look like a regular military uniform. “The reports have been confirmed. The People’s Red Army has been completely routed from most the rebel republics. Now, it is Mazaghea’s turn to shake off the shackles of Severyan Communism and declare her independence!”

“Who is this fool?” the third man said, the one who was trying to reconcile his fellow councilors. “Why was he allowed into the Supreme Council’s chamber during deliberations? Commander, throw him out immediately!”

“I am afraid that it is not your place to give me orders, sir,” Berasby replied. “The Supreme Council has been dissolved.”

There was an uproar. Red-faced councilors screamed at the police commander and the man dressed in fatigues unholstered his pistol and fired a few rounds into the ceiling, quieting everyone. “My name is Hatal Sovinov, and I am the commander of the Mazaghe National Front. Right now, my men have completely occupied this building and the city itself. We have the support of the police. Now you must break up this assembly, or I will begin having people shot.”

With that, the first councillor from before stepped forward. “It saddens me that this is necessary, but this Council has become nothing but a farce. You,” he said to Hatal, “have my support. The reign of the Union of Socialist Republics has come to an end. Long live Mazaghea!” A couple of his pro-secession comrades took up the call. “Long live Mazaghea!”

Against one the far wall hung a large USR banner. Hatal marched over and pulled it down, letting it fall against the floor. He then dragged it outside the Council chamber, kicking the doors so they flew open. Outside there was a throng of rebel fighters, dressed with various combinations of fatigues and civilian clothing and armed with a large variety of hunting rifles, submachine guns, pistols, assault rifles, and shotguns. He held up the USR flag so that the entire crowd could see it. “The Union is dead, long live Mazaghea!” he shouted.

The fighters took up the cry. “Long live Mazaghea! Long live Mazaghea!”

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Septem 1523

"I don't see them," someone said.

"Shh!" hissed another. Far below, the front of a column of Union troops began to appear. They traveled down a narrow mountain road with only enough space for two trucks to drive next to each other. This mountain pass was of great strategic value. It presented a back passage into the Nalkop valley. If the Union could make use of it, they would be able to rush troops behind the Mazaghean front line. This presented not only a grave danger to Mazaghea, but to Kubaniza as well. If Mazaghea were to fall, then Kubaniza's eastern flank would be vulnerable. This was a threat to the entire rebel effort.

That was why Hatal Sovinov, leader of all Mazaghean forces, was here personally to see that this latest push was kept at bay. The Union troops' efforts at security were laughable. Hatal did not know what arrogance possessed the Union commander to think that the Mazagheans, the ones who had lived in these mountains for generations upon generations, would not know about this small but vital pass. That was not to say that there was no danger. Only ten minutes ago, two attack helicopters had flown past, showing that the Union at least took care to provide some air support. "Sir, they are approaching the end of the ambush site," one of the soldiers whispered to Hatal.

Down on the road, several anti-vehicle and anti-personnel mines had been buried. When the front of the column hit the mines, several hidden explosives would also be detonated by wire by some men hidden closer to the road. Then, the rebels on the slopes above would open fire with machine guns and small arms. The other side of the pass was too far for small arms and machine guns to be very effective, but several snipers and mortars were placed there.

"Shit!" the soldier whispered. When Hatal looked down to see what the soldier was looking at, he saw several Union soldiers with their guns aimed up the slope - not at the main force, but farther down. Several soldiers slowly made their way up the mountain and dragged out a man from a clump of bushes. It was one of theirs, one of the men who were to detonate the explosives after the first mines went off. The entire Union column stopped. "We've been discovered," Hatal said.

"They may not yet know," the soldier said doubtfully. His hope was dashed when, all along the column, men raised their rifles and started shouting, pointing towards the slope. "OPEN FIRE!" Hatal shouted. Machine guns opened up all along the line, ripping into the Union soldiers. A group of them tried to run further down the road, but hit the mines and were blown to smithereens. Then the other explosives were detonated, throwing the entire column into chaos.

Within a few minutes, the sound of a helicopter could be heard. Rockets streaked towards the slope, blowing Mazaghean soldiers away. Machine guns chugged away as the helicopter continued in a strafing run. "Anti-air, now!" Hatal roared. Several soldiers with rocket launchers stood at the ready as the helicopter turned around to make another pass. It opened up with its machine guns again, but it was answered by five different rockets from the ground. It managed to dodge out of the paths of the first three, but the last two slammed into the fuel tanks, turning the helicopter into a fireball in the sky. Within several more minutes, the soldier reported to Hatal.

"Commander, the majority of the column has been destroyed. The rest are trying to withdraw. Shall we pursue them?"

"No," Hatal said. "We have been engaged long enough. More of their air power is surely on its way. Order the men to withdraw, and we'll set up another ambush site further down the pass, in case they get the nerve to try again."

The soldier nodded and jogged off to pass along his orders.

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Marth 1525

In Nalkop, a week of celebrations had been declared. Hatal Sovinov returned to Mazaghea to a hero's welcome. Just a few days earlier, he had been present in Bukanya for the final signing of the peace accords, what was being called internationally the Bukanya Accords, the treaty ending the horrid, drawn-out Winter War. As the train carrying the Mazaghean delegation slowly came to a stop, the tens of thousands in the crowd cheered. Hatal stood in full view, basking in the glory of a liberating hero. To either side of him stood the negotiating team which had done the actual work of securing the peace on paper. Included in this team was one Abaty Shapsug, a former Communist councilor on the former Supreme Council. He had been known as a voice of moderation and compromise on the Council, and so was considered a natural addition to the delegation. He was opposed by Sovinov, though his advisers assured him that he would do no harm. The history between the two was not well. It had been he who had demanded that Sovinov be thrown out when he had interrupted the Supreme Council and dissolved it. Their relationship had simply gone downhill from there.

As they were preparing to disembark, Shapsug approached Sovinov. "It is finally over. The war, I mean. I hope to work with you closely in the future to rebuild our nation. Unless you plan to retire from public life," he added, almost hopefully. "The people would completely understand your decision in such a case. You have fought long and hard, and have done more than duty required of you."

"No," Sovinov replied, crushing Shapsug's hope that Sovinov would go quietly. "I have fought much of my life to see her freed, I cannot abandon my homeland now, not with so many snakes and vultures still about." He added that last part with some emphasis.

Shapsug frowned, but they were swept away by the crowd before he could say anything more. Sovinov in particular was swamped by the cheering masses, and only a barrier of armed soldiers kept him from being crushed. His security chief advised that Sovinov be clear of the crowd as soon as possible, but the old soldier loved the admiration of his people. After so many years of being a criminal, the public adoration was extremely gratifying.

"That old coot's days are numbered," Shapsug swore to a confidante. "It's time for the experienced and mature to take the reins."

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Septem 1525

Diyda Gushina, Hatal Sovinov's chief of staff, was not pleased with the sight before him. Hatal's little brother, Lasha, had recently returned home after studying abroad in Angiris. The boy, who was almost twenty years younger than Hatal himself, had left Mazaghea during the latter stages of the war. Surprisingly, his attempt to gain a valuable education while most of the rest of the country struggled for independence was not opposed by Hatal. In fact, the older brother provided most of the funding to Hatal. In Hatal's mind, it would be better for him to get a meaningful education and return to Mazaghea with important skills that could be put to use in the nation's rebuilding.

It was not the education which displeased Sovinov's chief of staff, it was the manner in which Lasha's homecoming was celebrated; very drunkenly. "I don't understand, Hatal," Gushina said. "You have an image to maintain. You can't be going around the city like some kind of drunk."

"What is the problem, Diyda?" Sovinov laughed. "My baby brother has returned home for the first time to a free country, shall we not celebrate with him? Barkeep, another round!"

Gushina sighed sadly and shook his head. Even the bodyguards were drunk. Although the alcohol looked inviting, he had more self control and a sense of duty to his boss to keep a clear head in order to keep him out of trouble. After another hour, the sound of the door opening and the wind outside gusting in caused him to glance over. Uh oh, Gushina thought as he watched a group of roughly a half dozen men enter. These men look like trouble. Sure enough, they soon ordered their drinks, and one of them decided to walk past the celebrating Sovinovs... and purposefully bump into Lasha, causing Lasha to spill his drink.

"Hey!" Lasha said angrily. "Watch where you're walking!"

"Watch where you're standing," the man responded.

"No one speaks to my brother that way," Hatal said, approaching the two of them. Gushina recognized the danger and started to stand up from his seat in the corner of the room, but he was too late.

"Your brother?" the man said, checking behind him to make sure that his fellows, who had now come over, had his back. "It looks more like your sister!" He laughed, and his fellows laughed with him.

Hatal got red in the face. Behind him, the drunken bodyguards and friends had come over. Hatal threw the first punch, catching the man square in the jaw and throwing him off balance. His fellows caught him, however, and the brawl was soon on. Gushina had no chance of putting a stop to it, he simply had to wait until the militsiya, the police, arrived. By the time they did, the fight was mostly over. The Sovinovs had the best of it, and the other trouble-seeking men complained to the policemen about them.

"He assaulted me!" the original instigator said. "You should arrest him!"

"Quiet, you!" the lead policeman said. "We know how to do our jobs." He looked over warily at Hatal. Gushina decided to intervene and pulled the policeman aside.

"Don't you know who that is?" he said in a low voice to him.

"Is that... Commander Sovinov?"

"Yes. He is a war hero, and his little brother had just returned from abroad. They were celebrating, and the other man provoked him."

The policeman looked torn. Finally, he said, "Alright, I'll leave him alone. Just... tell him to not drink so much next time, eh? And no more fights. We can't just ignore it if this starts to become a pattern of behavior, you understand?" Gushina did, and smiled and thanked the man, and hurried Hatal and the others home.

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

"Close the door, will you?" Shapsug said. The other man quietly shut the door, allowing them to speak in private in this side conference room, one of many in the old Supreme Council building. They could still hear the muffled sounds of a lively debate from the main chamber where the National Governing Committee was in session. The National Governing Committee, also called simply the National Committee, was the hastily assembled provisional government of Mazaghea.

"So what did you want to talk about, Abaty?" the man said. His name was Nolby Janchatar, a well-respected and influential member of the Committee. He used to be on the Supreme Council, but was purged by the new Perov administration many years ago for not adhering to the new political orthodoxy. He was widely regarded as wise and decisive, and even his enemies had a grudging respect for him. In other words, he was the perfect ally for a major power play, if Shapsug could bring him on board.

"I wanted to talk about Sovinov," Shapsug began.

"Oh?"

"Honestly, I am worried about him, Nolby, about his attitude, his behavior, and how it will affect the country. You've noticed how he's been missing meetings and not attending votes. He's the chairman, yet he doesn't seem to care about overseeing the Committee. Normally, I might overlook some of these... lapses in leadership, but this latest incident..."

"What incident?"

Shapsug pulled a folder out from within his jacket. "A friend of mine managed to get a hold of these before they got to the newspapers." Inside the folder were photographs of Sovinov in the midst of what appeared to be a drunken bar brawl. Janchatar frowned.

"So what is your solution, then? I assume you have an idea, or you wouldn't have bothered to talk to me about it."

"I think we should hold a vote for a new chairman, one who is experienced, responsible, and moderate, someone..."

"Like you?" Janchatar interrupted with a smirk.

"...or you?" Shapsug offered.

Janchatar seemed to ponder the possibility for a moment, but quickly dismissed it. "No, the chairmanship is not my place." The old man frowned and seemed to be thinking hard. Finally, he said, "Alright, I will support you. I hope you have some other allies in this, however, as I do not have enough friends on the Committee to elect you themselves."

"Don't worry," Shapsug said, "I have it all planned out."

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Septem 1525

“What is the meaning of this?” Sovinov shouted angrily as he burst through the doors and into the main chamber of the former Supreme Council. It was oddly reminiscent of his first visit here, when he overthrew the Communist government. The National Committee was gathered together, discussing the plight of farmers in Golny or some such thing. In the chairman’s seat, Sovinov’s seat, sat Abaty Shapsug.

Shapsug looked extremely annoyed at the outburst. “What are you yelling about?” he asked.

Sovinov pointed a finger at Shapsug. “Get out of that chair, I am the chairman.”

“No, you were voted out of the chairmanship. I am the new chairman,” Shapsug replied.

“You can’t do that!” Sovinov huffed, his face red. “I was not even here for the vote!”

“That was your own fault. It was posted on the Committee’s agenda. Perhaps if you bothered to actually look at it every once in a while, you might have been better informed. Perhaps if you had actually bothered to do your job, you might not be in this situation.”

“You slimy-” Sovinov began, but he was interrupted by a tug on his arm. His chief of staff, Gushina, was practically begging him without speaking to step out. Eventually, Sovinov went with his chief of staff and stepped out of the chamber. “This is outrageous!” he said.

“I know, I know,” Gushina said. “He’s a slimy little shit. He added the vote to the agenda at the last minute. Many our our allies were not here for the vote, though I’m not sure if it would have changed anything if it were here.” Gushina sighed. “This is my fault. I should have been more vigilant. I should have foreseen Shapsug trying something like this.”

“No, Diyda, it is not your fault. It is mine. Shapsug may be a communist and a snake, but I should have not let my guard down. The carrion birds have come to feast on the corpse of the Socialist Union, and we are the first victim.” Sovinov shook his head sadly. “This is nothing more than a coup, a silent one with the support of much of the government, but a coup nonetheless. I have no doubt that Shapsug and his traitorous ilk have bad intentions for our homeland. The only thing that I can do now is try to stop them.”

Over the next month, things only worsened for Sovinov’s camp. As chairman, Shapsug now had power over the appointment of new personnel. Sovinov’s old revolutionary comrade Tiguan Arikshu had been replaced as interim Interior Minister. Miza Foqua, who was simultaneously the Sovinov’s personal security chief and the head of Mazaghea’s fledgling intelligence agency, had been fired. Although some of his friends were still in positions in the government and military, Sovinov was almost completely powerless to do anything about Shapsug now that he had the support of most of the Committee. Sovinov had fallen out of favor with Mazaghea’s ruling class.

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Nueva 1525

Diyda Gushina was becoming very worried. Sovinov was becoming increasingly introverted. Two months had passed since the "coup," as Sovinov insisted on calling it, and Gushina was concerned over how Sovinov was taking it. Gushina himself believed that Shapsug was an underhanded snake who exploited the procedural rules of the Committee for his own selfish benefit. After hearing rumors, which he eventually confirmed, that he had pictures of Sovinov in a bar brawl, Gushina also believed that Shapsug had staged the whole event in order to convince some other members of the Committee to support his move against the then-chairman, or at least to not interfere. Indeed, the whole affair stank of dirty, underhanded politics. Gushina did not, however, view it was an illegal coup.

Sovinov believed Shapsug to be a closeted communist and a USR sympathizer. Indeed, he had moved to postpone the privatization of several industries and was pressuring the Mazaghean ambassador to Severograd to take a less hardline stance for the sake of future relations. The rest of the Committee was, thankfully, committed to an official distrust of the Union, at least for as long as Gregor Perov remained in power.

Gushina was worried that Sovinov would do something drastic. He had been meeting with many of his old comrades in the disbanded Mazaghe National Front (MNF), including Tiguan Arikshu and, of course, his security chief Miza Foqua. Gushina knew that he would not be able to pull another stunt like the one which catapulted Mazaghea into the war, when he overthrew the Communist government. He didn't have the support for that. Public opinion would rapidly turn against him if he attempted an armed coup against the legitimate government of an independent Mazaghea. Neither did he have the men or firepower. Most of his troops from the MNF had by now either gone home and returned to civilian life, or they had signed up with the Provisional Army.

Eventually, Gushina asked him, "What is it, Hatal? What are you planning?"

"Oh, Diyda, what do you mean?" he responded innocently.

"Do not play with me, Hatal. I know you, and you are making plans. Tell me, please," Gushina said.

"I'm sorry, my friend, but it is better for both of us that I do not speak." A few days after that, he abruptly left on a "break" to "clear his head." Gushina knew better than to look further into it. Unbeknownst to him, as well as the agents which Shapsug had arranged to spy on Sovinov, utilizing his connections, managed to secretly board a train bound for Zarka on the Kubanizan border. The small Kubanizan communities in Mazaghea had been dedicated allies in the fight against the USR. Their connections in Kubaniza had helped to secure supplies, communications, and occasionally fighters, when necessary. They had also helped to establish good relations and friendship. Sovinov was off to see Leonid Sverbylo, the "Mountain Bear." Sverbylo was a warrior after Sovinov's own heart, a khorobri commander of great renown. The khorobri were the irregular troops which fought for Kubaniza, although over the years they had professionalized considerably.

The situations in Mazaghea and Kubaniza were similar in some ways and different in many others. During the war against the Socialist Union, a single, strong figure had taken the lead in the war effort. In the case of Mazaghea, that leader was Hatal Sovinov. In the case of Kubaniza, it was Vasily Bukanko. Their post-war situations were quite different, however. Sovinov had entered the civilian political sphere, where it ended up becoming clear he was unsuited, given the cutthroat nature of politics. Sovinov had also disbanded the MNF, his own irregular military organization, allowing the provisional government to create a new military structure from the ground up. Bukanko, on the other hand, had maintained the organization he had founded, the United Khorobri Forces (OKS). The Kubanizan provisional government had handed over most authority over security matters to the OKS. Bukanko also stayed out of civilian government, at least publicly.

The OKS was technically a coalition of autonomous, independent khorobri units. In practice, Bukanko ensured that everyone followed the orders they were given through various means, as unity of command was vital to military success. In the case of Sverbylo, the Bear was himself powerful enough to have significant leeway. Sverbylo, along with a couple of others, might even have been described by some commentators as regional warlords, although their personal authority never rose quite to that level.

Sverbylo's sphere of influence covered much of the mountains of eastern Kubaniza. His men were known as the horyany, the mountain men, who were fierce mountain fighters - although not quite as fierce as Mazaghea's own mountain fighters, in the humble opinion of Sovinov.

In short, Sovinov believed that his best chance at receiving aid from the Kubanizans would be through Sverbylo. When Sovinov arrived at the train station in the city of Harigrad, where Sverbylo currently had his headquarters, he was greeted by a colorful escort, and a band played an old Mazaghe folk song that had become a kind of unofficial anthem for Mazaghea. Sverbylo himself was there to greet him. The whole display really touched Sovinov, and showed him that Sverbylo, at least, still thought highly of him.

"Greetings and welcome to my beautiful home, old friend!" Sverbylo greeted him loudly and warmly once Sovinov walked out to meet him.

"I feel very welcome indeed, friend," Sovinov said, and they embraced. After several more minutes of pompous display, the two of them were finally alone in a car driving towards Sverbylo's headquarters.

"Now that we're alone," Sverbylo said, "perhaps you should tell me what this is all about?"

"Yes, well," began Sovinov, "I have a very big problem."

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

The Kubanizan listened gravely as Sovinov recounted the recent events in Mazaghea. “The situation is even worse than I had imagined,” he said at last. “I had heard, of course, about the changes in government, but I had held out hope that clearer heads would prevail.” Sverbylo eyed Sovinov. “But what could I possibly do to aid you?”

Sovinov sighed as the big moment finally seemed to be upon him. However, they were cut off by the driver announcing that they had arrived at Sverbylo’s headquarters. “We can continue inside,” the Kubanizan said. Once inside and alone, he once again waited for Sovinov to answer.

“I need you to help me in the form of manpower,” Sovinov finally said.

Sverbylo nodded, as if he had suspected this all along. “My regiments are not currently at wartime strength, you understand… But I have my core units still, the most experienced and loyal. I can call up others for service as needed to take their place. How many men do you need?”

“I have an idea of how many men you have at your disposal,” Sovinov responded. “If you could provide five thousand, with as many tanks and armored vehicles as you could spare, I could provide about a thousand men, initially. If my plan works, however, we should be able to call upon some more men from the Provisional Armed Forces and National Police.”

Sverbylo whistled. “Five thousand? That’s a lot, my friend, but it is worth the investment to save our neighbors and brothers from communism. You shall have it.”

Two weeks later

It was dark in the mountains, and the moon offered very little light. A twig snapped, and a challenge was met by the proper response. Two men emerged from the underbrush on the Mazaghean side, meeting three men coming from Kubaniza.

“Commander Sovinov?” one of the two asked.

“It is I,” Sovinov responded. “You are our guides?”

“Yes, sir. We have men at several places along the border to guide our comrades in, just as you ordered. The border patrols are in all the wrong places, just as you said they’d be. I don’t know how you managed it, sir, but we’re ready to move.”

“Excellent,” Sovinov said. He turned to his two companions, who were Kubanizan officers. “Tell your men to move forward, we’re on-mission.”

“One more thing, sir. There have been some developments. An arrest warrant has been issued for you and several of your associates, including Diya Gushina.”

“Ha!” Sovinov barked. “This only confirms what I have been saying all along. I am Shapsug’s biggest critic, his most dangerous rival. He sought to remove me, but I have outmaneuvered him. Ha! I only hope Diyda escaped.”

About twenty minutes after crossing the border, the lead vehicle in Sovinov’s convoy ran into a surprise police checkpoint. They had had no lights on, but had switched them on as soon as the lead vehicle got close enough. Sovinov ordered the rest of the men to stay back while he went up ahead to see what the issue was. When he returned about ten minutes later, one of the Kubanizan commanders and their guides were arguing.

“You said it was clear!” the Kubanizan said.

“It was! I don’t know where these militsiya came from…” the guide responded.

“It’s alright, my friends. They are not our enemies, but our comrades. They were here to deliver a warning from our friend the head of the National Police, Berasby Manshak. The way ahead is not clear. It seems that someone higher up has superseded his subordinate’s orders for this area and has ordered a patrol through this area. We will have to find another way around. You can do this, yes?” He asked the last question of the guide.

“Yes… it will not be as quick, but there is another way. Let’s move.”

About an hour later, they received the call that they had all dreaded. “The engine will not ignite,” the message came out of the radio. “The engine will not ignite.” It as the prearranged signal that they had been discovered. When trying to move approximately five thousand armed men across a border, it was nearly impossible to stay undetected. Sovinov’s connections had allowed them to pinpoint the locations of outposts and border stations, as well as predict where there would be patrols. He had even been able to alter the orders sent to several units in the field. In addition, the Mazaghean-Kubanizan border was not heavily defended. No, most resources were dedicated to watching the border with the USR. For these reasons, Sovinov had hoped that they would be able to make it much closer to the capital before being discovered.

Evidently, fate had different plans.

“We have no choice now,” Sovinov declared. “We must rush for Nalkop.”

[Jamzor the Jaxxor]

Nalkop, Republic of Mazaghea
Nueva 1525

In the early hours of the morning, when most of the city was still fast asleep, and only the most early-rising or most overworked were awake, the lead elements of the joint Kubanizan-Sovinovian force reached the city. The force consisted of five thousand veteran fighters from Kubaniza and around a thousand pro-Sovinov partisans. Although they stood against a nation with millions of citizens, they encountered little resistance as they rushed towards the capital. Sovinov's connections gave the invaders invaluable intelligence concerning the Mazaghean positions and movements along the already-porous Kubanizan border. They were even able to sabotage or forge some orders to border stations and patrols.

When the alarm was finally raised, the military was slow to respond. The military had grown lax after the peace with the Socialist Union. Most thought that the war and the threat of it were over, and even if there was to be a threat from the USR, that was the responsibility of the troops stationed in that sector. Those troops responsible for the area in which this incursion was taking place were supposed to be in a "safe" sector. All of these factors meant that the Kubanizans and Sovinovian partisans encountered little resistance. What resistance the Mazaghean military was able to mount was scattered and disorganized, and there were relatively few casualties as the invaders swept past.

In the city itself, not a shot was fired. When Sovinov, at the head of a company of Mazaghe fighters, reached the capitol building, there was no a soul in sight. Suspicious, Sovinov ordered the building to be searched immediately. It did not take long for word to come that the entire building appeared to be deserted. Growing ever more suspicious, Sovinov got on the radio to demand reports concerning the searches of the homes of the members of the National Committee. Sovinov's plan hinged upon the swift capture of the capital and government, which would allow him to dictate terms. When the reports trickled in, and it appeared that less than half of the National Committee had been captured, Sovinov's suspicion turned to anger and then sullenness. The rest of the Committee, including Chairman Shapsug, had seemingly escaped, with signs of hasty packing in their homes.

Sovinov's plan was falling apart, but he had to continue regardless. He could, of course, simply cut his losses now and retreat back to Kubaniza as fast as possible. They numbered a mere six thousand. When the Mazaghean military mobilized in force to confront them, they may not be able to withstand them. But the thought of surrender at this point sickened Sovinov, and he purged his mind of all thoughts of it. If he retreated now, he would never be able to set foot in Mazaghea again. He would be forced to live in exile in shame. So after his men were given some time to fortify themselves in the city, the Commander rode a car to a television station, where he made his announcement as the nation was awakening:

"Greetings, my fellow citizens. My name, as you probably know, is Hatal Sovinov. For years I fought against the oppression of the Severyans and Communists. During the recent war, I led our troops against the enemy and achieved victory for our people. I fought for a Mazaghea free of foreign oppression and Communism. I fought for a Mazaghea that would be able to prosper, with liberty for its citizens. That is the dream of all Mazagheans.

"Unfortunately, my friends, there are still those that wish to stand in the way of this dream of ours. A few months ago, Abaty Shapsug and his cronies seized control of the National Governing Committee in a behind-the-scenes coup. Shapsug declared himself chairman, and immediately began a purge of the government, police, and military of those who were not loyal to him. He began a slow but sure return to the old Communist policies. Have you not noticed, my countrymen, that the privatization of state industries has ceased? That the intelligence and internal security agencies have been expanded? His work to dismantle our drive towards free enterprise and liberty have been gradual but determined.

"And only recently has he, with the aid of his secret police, attempted to arrest myself and other critics of his in an attempt to silence us so that he may continue his tyrannical work unhindered. Today, I declare that enough is enough. The National Committee has been complicit in his crimes against liberty. I have taken action to set our motherland back on the right path. I have removed Shapsug and his cronies from the halls of government, and taken temporary control of the government until new, free elections can be safely held. I have taken action to stop our roll back towards tyranny. Will you do the same? I call upon loyal members of the Provisional Armed Forces and the National Police to aid me. I call upon loyal, patriotic citizens to aid me. Together, we will fight for a free Mazaghea."

Sovinov slumped back into a chair. "Make sure to have the message repeat. I want to make sure as many people as possible see it throughout the day," he said.