We Must Move On: Insaanistan Post-Civil War [IC/Read OP]

[Insaanistan]

The Insaanis were relieved and overjoyed at the assurance and revelation. The women and girls ululated to show their gratitude. Smiles were all around as the Erloaneans handed out food to the Insaanis. Those who had sick relatives either brought them to the Erloaneans or gave the newcomers directions on how to get to the houses of the sick (though the directions were confusing and usually things along the lines of “The house is next to the rocks that look like a bowl turned upside. You’ve gone too far if you see a date palm that leans to the left.”). The two girls smiled at the officer and translator.
“Snow and ice?” repeated the second girl, “Like they get in the mountains of Sinai?” The first girl turned to the translator.
“Is snow what makes you people white? Can you bring us some snow? We’ll be white too!”

The translator chuckled and responded "We don't get much sunlight up north. That makes us white. Snow can't change your skin color, but we could try getting you and other kids snow to play with. What do you think?"

Medics checked up on sick people that arrived with thier relatives, giving thier families or friends the necessary meds and giving advice. Thankfully, there were no seriously ill people yet. Soldiers set up tents for Insaanis so they wouldn't be baking under the sun.

The 2 girls nodded vigorously in agreement, grinning widely. Though the soldiers had set up tents, the Insaanis were a but amusingly awkward around them. Though certainly not city dwellers, the inhabitants of the village were not nomadic and thus had little experience with tents.
One man embarrassedly knocked down one of the tents by playing with the ropes out of boredom.

[Insaanistan]

This is Al Jazeera.
[intro plays]
Live from Al Jazeera news headquarters in London, here are your top stories for the hour.

Insaanistan is poised to begin its Parliamentary elections this Sunday. The Insaani MPs, many of whom were put into office before the removal of the Royal Family and Mr. Tamzali, will have to compete to keep their seats in the Two Legislatures. This election is expected to be a contentious one as Communist and Islamist parties are expected to make a comeback.

[Elshayyal] It’s been years since Insaani President Mustafa Abu Jamal was killed in Somalia in a nuclear missile attack, but the legacy of this president still resonates throughout. His face still adorns cafes, barbershops and homes throughout the country. A Democratic Socialist, Abu Jamal prohibited Communist and Fascist parties in the country, limited the power of Islamists. The chaos caused by the 2 civil wars in recent years, and the many regime changes, have led to these groups gaining prominence once more. Interestingly enough, many of those groups suppressed by Abu Jamal seem to be claiming him as one of their own.

[Marcus Altafini] We’re entering a time when the people will show that they support us and what we’re fighting for. We may be banned in Insaanistan, but you can’t keep people from believing in us.

[Elshayyal] When asked why Communists were claiming Abu Jamal as their own, Altafini said this

[Altafini] Those are the so-called “Islamic Communists”, who have nothing to do with Marx. They are like the centrists of Communism.

[Elshayyal] However, Communists find difficulty in actually obtaining foreign allies to campaign to make sure they remain visible in the country. Many once saw New Antarcticania as a possible ally,
[Plays Clips of Antarctican Attacks & Battles on Insaanis in the Past 2 Years]
but with war Insaanistan and war crimes against Insaanis fresh in people’s minds, allying with them would be suicidal.

Islamists also are attempting to make a comeback. Exposing the economic crisis brought on by coronavirus and the conclusion of the Second Insaani Civil War, as well as the numerous military interventions in Insaanistan, they are likening it to “Crusader attacks”, calling on Muslims to unite against it, though the economy has now begun improving due to sales of oil to Western nations following bans on Russian oil. They alternatively portray Mustafa either as a “kaffir”, a disbeliever, or a martyred Islamist mujahideen.

[Tarek Mohammed] He, may Allah have mercy on him, died a martyr, protecting the integrity of our nation from Kharijites. Look what happened after he died. The country was invaded by Godless foreigners from the West. These crusaders bombed our lands like they did to Iraq and Syria and Afghanistan. When Asim tried to fix it, they ousted boxed him into a corner and him.

[Elshayyal]Mohammed says that if they didn’t want to be called crusaders, they shouldn’t have likened their military intervention in Southern Europe to the Crusades. However, recent terrorist attacks by groups such as the Taliban and DAESH have made it necessary they distance themselves from such groups who also claim to be Islamists. When I asked Mohammed why he was so against the foreign troops stationed in Insaanistan, he told me he distrusted them greatly.

[Mohammed] They only intend to slowly spread across our country until they’re so common place we don’t blink at them. Now more of them have entered, passing out food and the like. They only want to win over the people with gifts. They can’t put us to sleep, though. The Muslims will wake up and crush them!

[Elshayyal] The Jundallah are also hoping to see a huge turnout of support this year. Though not officially Islamist, many of their top leadership share Islamist connections or leanings. Parliament still hasn’t voted as to whether the Jundallah shall be allowed to participate as a political party in Insaani politics. The Jundallah were formed in 2021 as President Tamzali fled the country, helping Langenian troops consolidate control over the country. They’ve come head to head with the Yusuf Administration, though their military wing works in coordination with the Insaani military. They even have control over key centers across the country, such as the Muslimbol International Airport.

Voters across the country go to the polls on Friday, with the Russia-Ukraine war, the economy, terrorist attacks, Covid, the war in Sharifistan, and Palestine on their minds among other issues. People will be on the edges of their seats, watching to see what happens next. Jamal Elshayyal, Al Jazeera, Cairo.

[Erloane]

The translator chuckled and responded "We don't get much sunlight up north. That makes us white. Snow can't change your skin color, but we could try getting you and other kids snow to play with. What do you think?"

Medics checked up on sick people that arrived with thier relatives, giving thier families or friends the necessary meds and giving advice. Thankfully, there were no seriously ill people yet. Soldiers set up tents for Insaanis so they wouldn't be baking under the sun.

The 2 girls nodded vigorously in agreement, grinning widely. Though the soldiers had set up tents, the Insaanis were a but amusingly awkward around them. Though certainly not city dwellers, the inhabitants of the village were not nomadic and thus had little experience with tents.
One man embarrassedly knocked down one of the tents by playing with the ropes out of boredom.

When the tent falls several Erloaneans said profanities and complained in latin. Thankfully nobody was harmed and the tent was fixed up quickly. Translator with a loudspeaker made an announcement. "Attention. Please, contact the mayor or any other representative and tell them to come here. We would like to ask them a few questions. That is all. Thank you."

Meanwhile in the command tent an officer is calling his superior back at Insaani-Langenian HQ.
"Pantheon. Ares reporting in. Unloading cargo and establishing relations with locals. No hostile forces sighted, working on getting some intel. Ares over."

[Mosarat]

Mosarat’s political parties are similar to the ones in Egypt’s pre Nasser era. Currently the parties in the government are:
The Mosaratian Unity Party: They are a Conservative Islamic Democratic and Mosaratian Nationalist Party (They are Pharonists)
The Parliamentary Party: They are a Conservative Liberal and Mosaratian Nationalist Party

The parties in opposition to the government are:
The Solidarity Party: They are a Liberal and Social Liberal party
The Desert Camel Party: They a Social Democratic and Progressive party
The Toiler Party: They are Democratic Socialist Party and have an Islamic Socialist faction
The Coptic People’s Party: They are Coptic minority interest party


The parties ask the Insaani politicians for permission to come speak at rallies and to give endorsements. They believe this will continue to solidify relations between Mosarat and Insaanistan.

[Insaanistan]

Mosarat’s political parties are similar to the ones in Egypt’s pre Nasser era. Currently the parties in the government are:
The Mosaratian Unity Party: They are a Conservative Islamic Democratic and Mosaratian Nationalist Party (They are Pharonists)
The Parliamentary Party: They are a Conservative Liberal and Mosaratian Nationalist Party

The parties in opposition to the government are:
The Solidarity Party: They are a Liberal and Social Liberal party
The Desert Camel Party: They a Social Democratic and Progressive party
The Toiler Party: They are Democratic Socialist Party and have an Islamic Socialist faction
The Coptic People’s Party: They are Coptic minority interest party


The parties ask the Insaani politicians for permission to come speak at rallies and to give endorsements. They believe this will continue to solidify relations between Mosarat and Insaanistan.

OOC: https://www.nationstates.net/nation=ins ... id=1284864
The major political parties in Insaanistan.

[Mosarat]

Mosarat’s political parties are similar to the ones in Egypt’s pre Nasser era. Currently the parties in the government are:
The Mosaratian Unity Party: They are a Conservative Islamic Democratic and Mosaratian Nationalist Party (They are Pharonists)
The Parliamentary Party: They are a Conservative Liberal and Mosaratian Nationalist Party

The parties in opposition to the government are:
The Solidarity Party: They are a Liberal and Social Liberal party
The Desert Camel Party: They a Social Democratic and Progressive party
The Toiler Party: They are Democratic Socialist Party and have an Islamic Socialist faction
The Coptic People’s Party: They are Coptic minority interest party


The parties ask the Insaani politicians for permission to come speak at rallies and to give endorsements. They believe this will continue to solidify relations between Mosarat and Insaanistan.

OOC: https://www.nationstates.net/nation=ins ... id=1284864
The major political parties in Insaanistan.

The MUP decides to endorse Jundallah and the Parliamentarians decide to endorse the Islamic Party of the People. The Solidarity Party and DEP decide to endorse Democratic Liberal People’s Party and Democratic Party respectively. The Toilers endorse the Democratic Socialist Party. The CPP decides to remain neutral.

[New Antarcticania]

Somewhere in the Western Republican-Royalist border.

6 days after the Tear-gassing of Insaani and Royalist soldiers.

1/8th Mtn Bde.
4th Combined Div.
Antarctican Army in Sharaifistan
(AAiS)

As a boy, he had grown up in the Poryanya Mountains. Father an miner,Mother an pasture worker. He was there before the red banner toppled over the Island like a man who had been shot in the chest. It was a simple life drowned by childhood bliss and of the sweet grass on what little level ground the mountains had to offer, blowing away in every direction possible.

When he was 17, however. With the toppled regime being replaced with another regime -- one being more red than the last -- He joined the military. Whether if it was because he felt compelled to join this new effort of reclamation of this Island nation's glory days, or whether he was encouraged by the Promises that the government promised that their soldiers will reap once their retire, we may never know.

Tonight, however. He would not be basking in the warmth of the raging fire in the stove of his platoon's barracks. Instead, he would be moving to an vantage point in the mountains with the rest of his squad. For you see, not only was he an mountaineer, he was also an Forward Aircraft Controller.

So tonight, armed with nothing else besides his service rifle (An AK-74M with an side mount rail and an generic 3x scope with night vision) his binoculars, and his radio. He and his team are to crawl up towards the mountain behind Antarctican lines, and await further orders.

Unsurprisingly, he felt like as if he was just mere hours away from starting a new war in the Mediterranean.
--------------------------------------
The pilot in the MiG-29SMT doges and weaves his way through the paths that was laid in the Turkish mountains. He makes his way east, towards the Insanni lines. Where he would deliver his payload.

What was it? He wasn't sure.

Earlier that day, the only bomb he was to deliver that night arrived in an unusually unique box, an iron crate - all black, no markings whatsoever. And then, rumors spread like wildfire amongst his airbase about munition crews inspecting the bomb - an RBK-500; only to find that the bomb was not containing the usual sub munitions, but weird objects, wrapped in a red-checkered -- almost paper-like -- skin.

But none of that mattered to him now, all that mattered to him was to not crash nose-first into the side of one of those damned mountains. And so, he dodged and weaved, dodged and weaved, weaved and dodged, under the terrain and the heavy ECM cover over the skies of Socialist Sharifistan tonight. Until, when there is nothing but the and an mountain -- located just near the lines where socialist turns Royalist -- is between the MiG and the Insanni lines.

"Ragno, this is Breakneck 11, one MiG-29SMT with package on station, 20 minutes effective time. Do you copy, over?"
"Breakneck 11, I have targeting data. 1 mile east from reference point, bearing nine-two, entrenched infantry. Drop payload directly on target. Landmarks are one bunker 100m left of target if facing east and using Reference point. Grid designation is..."
The FAC proceeds to read out a twelve-digit long string of numbers.
"IP is at 5,000 ft. Reference point bearing eight-seven. Popping green smoke to identify Friendly position. fire at will."

"Copy." And without the skip of a beat, the pilot pushes his throttle as it could go, rising out of the mountains and into the open sky, he saw the smoke rising from the mountain as his MiG screams past it, he reckoned it came from around halfway up the mountain, enough to get a good vantage point over the border and heavenwall.

It was sundown.
All the Insannis could see was the silhouette of single MiG climbing into space, even from so far away. They could see it's afterburners.

[Insaanistan]

OOC:
The sandwich NA says he dropped down: https://www.prairiedogbrewing.ca/store/ ... -sandwich/
IC: The Insaani troops watched at the wrapping fell down, some of it hit them in their heads, arms or shoulders. Seeing as it had come from an Antartican plane, they were already suspicious. Carefully, some of them began to peel back the wrapping.
“It’s just some bloody pork sandwich,” someone said, after opening one of the checkered wrappers.
“Oh, for f*ck’s sake,” said someone else. “What was the point of that?”
“I’m case you aren’t aware,” answered another, “it’s a commonly held belief among Islamophobes that we fear to be even in close proximity to it, or that we believe casing pork on bullets and shooting said bullets at us will deny us entry to Paradise.”

“What a waste of food,” another person said. They slowly began to pick up the sandwiches and pile most of them up, giving the rest to some of the Christians, atheists and other non-Muslims stationed there. Piling the majority of the sandwiches (most still wrapped) up, they set it on fire.

The smell permeated the encampment. While a few of the soldiers found the smell enticing, most either barely noticed it or began vomiting.

[Insaanistan]

The 2 girls nodded vigorously in agreement, grinning widely. Though the soldiers had set up tents, the Insaanis were a but amusingly awkward around them. Though certainly not city dwellers, the inhabitants of the village were not nomadic and thus had little experience with tents.
One man embarrassedly knocked down one of the tents by playing with the ropes out of boredom.

When the tent falls several Erloaneans said profanities and complained in latin. Thankfully nobody was harmed and the tent was fixed up quickly. Translator with a loudspeaker made an announcement. "Attention. Please, contact the mayor or any other representative and tell them to come here. We would like to ask them a few questions. That is all. Thank you."

Meanwhile in the command tent an officer is calling his superior back at Insaani-Langenian HQ.
"Pantheon. Ares reporting in. Unloading cargo and establishing relations with locals. No hostile forces sighted, working on getting some intel. Ares over."

The village didn’t really have a mayor, so after much deliberation they just decided to send the oldest person alive in the village. They ended up sending two people, as neither of said people knew their exact age. An old Siwa Amazigh man named Al-Haji Muhammad al-Masri, and a Saīdi Arab woman named Al-Hajia Salma bint Abu Qasem ash-Shaybani. The al-Haji was wrinkled with copper skin in a scraggly silver beard and moustache. He really looked 70, despite the fact he was certainly at least 100 years of age. He stood upright and often adorned traditional Siwi clothing. The al-Hajia was hunched over and considerably more wrinkled. Her facial expression made it look as if she was perpetually squinting. She had a headscarf round her head, but one that resembled those worn by Eastern European Slavic women. She walked with a cane, but did not move slowly. She of late was having a bit of difficulty hearing. She had been born pale skinned but had over the last century or so tanned a great deal, nearly to the al-Haji’s complexion. Mumbling to herself in Arabic, she silently cursed her ruined sandals as she hobbled along with the al-Haji. His lips parted slightly along the way as he thumbed the dhikr beads in his right hand, his left hand placed behind his back, clinging to his light blue gelabiya. The al-Hajia adjusted her veil, a snow-white color that was only that much whiter than her hair. She wore a black abaya as well, which was less likely to get visibly dirtied by the sand.

[Insaanistan]

Abdülfetih took a deep breath as Shaheeda stared at him with suspicion.

“I am of the hashashin,” he said. “Mustafa was one as well.”

“You’re telling me Mustafa used to kill people as a job?” Shaheeda asked, offended that anyone would dare to make such a claim.

“Not exactly,” he corrected. “We were called al-Hashashin, but our job wasn’t to be assassins, per se-“
“Then what was it?” she asked impatiently.
“I’m getting there,” Abdülfetih assured her.
“We were spies for Insaanistan, so to speak. Not like you are, though. Our jobs were much more dangerous, much more secret, and way more important than your assignments.” Noticing Shaheeda’s change in expression, he added “No offense.”

“Offense taken,” she said. “Proceed.”

“I was member,” he continued. “So were Zaynab, Haroun, as Shuaib,” he said, pointing at the others. “And so was your cousin, Soraya.”

Here, Shaheeda’s attention had been grabbed as a parent grabs an energetic child.

“Mustafa was the best out of all of us at the time. When we first joined, we were fighting all the time. What would you expect. You can put Insaanis from all over together and expect them to just get along. Muslims, Christians, and Jews. Sunnis, Shias, Ibadis and Druze. Catholics, Orthodox and Maronites. Arabs, Berbers, whites and Blacks. But Mustafa, he was level headed. And he was mixed with so many bloody things that it seemed like he fit in with everyone. He was like a peacemaker, keeping us in check, even though he was younger than most of us. As we competed our missions, we became like blood to one another. Sometimes we lost someone, and that only brought us closer, like a knot tightening and tightening. Then one day we had a mission: take out Saddam Hussein. We had agents in Baghdad, informants in the Ba’athist movement, and the necessary resources to do it. And the higher ups wanted Mustafa to lead the mission. He refused. They asked why. He said ‘I’d sooner die than burn down the cradle of civilization.’ They insisted, he refused. The more reasons he gave for refusing, the more we became convinced. In total, 9 out of all 15 of us also refused to join the mission. We were subsequently suspended for 2 weeks. When we came back, Mustafa was backing his stuff. We urged him to stay and reminded him that now that we had been suspended, we couldn’t participate in the mission even if we wanted to. He told us ‘I hate Saddam, I hate his bloody party. But look at Iraq, look at how it prospers. Curse anyone who goes along with this. May God have mercy on our brothers in Iraq, because their country is about to crumble and burn to ashes. There will be mourning in Karbala, but not only for Husayn.’

Then, we found out that those in charge had decided to have mercy on us. By forcing half of us to be in the mission. We trained for the next few months, against our will. None of us were willing to do what Mustafa had done. Then, one day, our CO came in, a blank expression on his face. It was March 20th, 2003. The US had invaded Iraq. There was no need for us to carry out the mission anymore, they said. The US had realized it’s mistake in the Gulf War, they told us, and would not let Saddam live this time.

Sure enough, Mustafa’s prediction came through. They destroyed Iraq. Praise be to God, we had nothing to do with it.”

By now, Shaheeda’s head was spinning. “Then, what are you guys doing here?” she wondered allowed.

“I never said the Hashashin were disbanded, did I?” Abdülfetih said with a slight smile.

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair. You used the past tense on purpose,” Shaheeda said. Abdülfetih began laughing. Shaheeda grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close.
“You think this is funny? We’re in a foreign country hiding out so that we don’t get killed by whoever killed the rest of our family, and you’re here telling me some long winded backstory like this is some movie?”

Again, everyone attempted to get her away from Abdülfetih, as he protested her aggressive behavior.
“This is real life, this isn’t some story! You little-“

“Language,” Khadijah warned, and for the first time Shaheeda processed that her cousin-in law was there. She finally let go of Abdülfetih, who was relieved to still be alive.

“We’re just trying to help,” he said. “Calm down, princess. We’re here ‘unofficially’, as the current administration has no clue we exist. We’re dedicating our lives to protecting you, and finding any more Royals we can,” he told her. “Which,” he said, smiling slightly again, “will be much easier you don’t murder us.”

[Insaanistan]

The whole of the Muslim world is abuzz with excitement and apprehension. In just 1 day, it will be the beginning of Ēid al-Adha, when billions of Muslims & Druze will celebrate Abraham’s devotion to God. The holiday will be marked by three days of celebration, feasts, and charity. Millions of Insaanis & Sharifistanis, are in Western Saudi Arabia with millions of other Muslims, performing the rites of Hajj, the annual pilgrimage to Makkah.

But before the Ēid holiday begins, it is preceded by Yawm al-Ārafah: a day of fasting for anyone not participating in Hajj. As Ēid is in summer this year for the vast majority of the world’s Muslims, the fast will be long, difficult, and yet satisfactory and worth it.

---

“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar,” blared a speaker outside of the local mosque.
“There is no God except God,” it continued in Arabic.
“God is the Greatest, God the Greatest
And to God is all praise!”

“Why are they doing that?” Muhammad wondered aloud. “Eid-i-Qurbani is tomorrow, innit?” he asked Shaheeda, using the South & Central Asian name for the holiday.
“The Takbirat is started as soon as Dhul Hijjah begins,” Shaheeda explained. “Which you should know, they did the same back home.”
“Hm? Guess I just never noticed,” he admitted. He began to ponder as to whether or not he had ever noticed that.
A man bumped into Muhammad in the bazaar. “Sorry, agha,” the man said apologetically. “I’m in quite the rush!”
“You’re quite alright, cheers mate!” Muhammad called after him.

The man continued walking quickly around the corner. Knocking on the door to a house near the bazaar, and the door swung open. He ran inside, and closed the door behind him.
“Are the explosives ready?” he asked the man who had let him in.
“Yes, alhamdulillah,” came the reply. “We’ll be able to sneak them in tomorrow, inshallah.”
“Good. One more thing,” he said.
“What?”
“Royals. Insaani ones, I mean. They’re here in Madinat al-Islam. If we can find a way to sneak them into the mosque when we set the explosions off, that’ll be two birds, one stone.”
“Allahu Akbar!” his companion said. “Do you know where they are?”
The man smiled. “I just passed them on my way here. Mehmet is keeping an eye on them. He’ll report back to us their location and whereabouts.”
The two men hugged and shook hands.
“Salaam.”
“Salaam, brother.”

[Mosarat]

The Mosaratian MPs who gave their endorsements accepted the results of the elections. Some were pleased and some were disappointed.

Meanwhile in Mosarat the people began to prepare for Eid Al-Adha. The Sultan and Sultana did the same while waiting for Nura to be released.
“I hate to be away for the holidays.” The Sultana said.
“I know but it’s all for Nura. We must do what we can to secure her freedom and see she is alright.” The Sultan replied.
“Yes. It’s just not the same in a foreign land.” She replied.
The Sultan faced the window.
“Nura has become part of the family. This past year and a half has been like watching your entire family being ripped away. First Mustafa and now Soraya Bashir Fazluddin and Nura’s cousins. It’s too much to bear.” The Sultan said as he monologued.
He turned back to her.
“I have decided I will send a letter to Yusuf and ask that we take custody of Nura until the Insaani government can make a decision after all we are really the only living family she has even if it is ceremonial.” He explained.
“And Davud?” The Sultana asked but immediately regretted it.
“That is out of the question.” The Sultan said.
He handed the letter to the Sultana it read:

Dear Yusuf,
It is I, Sultan Farhan Hashem. I must inform you that my family and the Insaani royal family is ceremonially related. With the question of what is to happen to Nura after she is released, I ask for your permission to take her into my family’s custody. We believe Mosarat will be a better place for her than Insaanistan. When she discovers the fate of her family and the nation I fear the reaction to it and it’s affects on her mental and physical health. My family knows how to deal with that and we have the proper resources. That is why I believe it is best for me to take custody of her.
Sincerely, Farhan Hashem

“I will see that it gets delivered.” She said. The letter was mailed to The President’s Office in Muslimbol.

[Sciencizon Proximin]

So, this is what the world is now.

[Insaanistan]

Shaheeda entered via the women’s entrance. She had already made wudhu at Khadijah’s house, and the two of them entered the mosque. Shaheeda wore a scarlet, flowing Uyghur dress. However, her hair was tied up inside a red traditional Hausa headscarf. She was about to take her shoes off when a man came up to her.
“Wait!” he said, running up to her.
“Shaheeda sultan,” he said in a low voice, “don’t take your shoes off. Something has gone terribly amuck, Muhammad needs to see you immediately. He sent me to take you to him.”
Shaheeda nodded. She looked at Khadijah & pointed to the man & to the door. Khadijah smiled & waved, and sat down on the carpet.

Shaheeda & the man left the mosque, as he took her to another mosque: a Shiā mosque not to far from the Sunni one Shaheeda had been in. The man informed her that Muhammad was just inside in the shoe rack area. Shaheeda arrived here to see Muhammad pacing around worriedly. He looked up and saw her, rushing up to her.
“Salaam. What’s wrong? What did you need to talk to me about?” she asked.
“Talk to you? I though you called me here to talk to me about something? That’s what Mehmet told me.”
“‘Mehmet’? Was he a-“
She never got to finish. At that moment, the world went black.

[Insaanistan]

Shaheeda’s eyes hurt as she tried to open them. A blinding white light filled them as she woke up. Elevating herself a bit, she looked around, groggy and confused. Finally, her brain began working. She understood she was in a hospital. She somehow sensed she had been out of it for a long time. Then the memories began flooding back.
The namaz. Mehmet. The mosque.
Then, a chill went down her spine.
Muhammad.
She frantically pressed the button on her bedside. A nurse came in just a half minute later.
“Divine!” she said in Turkish. “You’re finally awake.”
“Where is Muhammad? Where is my cousin?” Shaheeda demanded.
“He just went to use the bathroom, he’ll be back in a moment,” the woman said. Sure enough, not long after, Muhammad came in, his hands still wet from the tap.
“Allahu Akbar!” he cried, rushing over to Shaheeda’s side. “You’re awake!”
“How… how long… what day is…?”
“It’s nearly Ashura,” he said, smiling. Shaheeda’s eyes widened.
“I’ve been out for nearly a month?!” she said. “Hai Allah! What happened?”
“Not much,” he said. Switching to Urdu, he said in a low voice, “I’ll tell you later. Not here.”
Shaheeda nodded. “How is Khadijah?”
“She’s fine, alhamdulilah,” he said.
“And Junaida?”
“Sorry?”
“I expect that you guys met up a few times and-“
“I have to get going,” he said quickly. “I’ll be back to check on you later. Salaam.”
Shaheeda raised an eyebrow. “Walaikum salaam”.

[Insaanistan]

The Mosaratian MPs who gave their endorsements accepted the results of the elections. Some were pleased and some were disappointed.

Meanwhile in Mosarat the people began to prepare for Eid Al-Adha. The Sultan and Sultana did the same while waiting for Nura to be released.
“I hate to be away for the holidays.” The Sultana said.
“I know but it’s all for Nura. We must do what we can to secure her freedom and see she is alright.” The Sultan replied.
“Yes. It’s just not the same in a foreign land.” She replied.
The Sultan faced the window.
“Nura has become part of the family. This past year and a half has been like watching your entire family being ripped away. First Mustafa and now Soraya Bashir Fazluddin and Nura’s cousins. It’s too much to bear.” The Sultan said as he monologued.
He turned back to her.
“I have decided I will send a letter to Yusuf and ask that we take custody of Nura until the Insaani government can make a decision after all we are really the only living family she has even if it is ceremonial.” He explained.
“And Davud?” The Sultana asked but immediately regretted it.
“That is out of the question.” The Sultan said.
He handed the letter to the Sultana it read:

Dear Yusuf,
It is I, Sultan Farhan Hashem. I must inform you that my family and the Insaani royal family is ceremonially related. With the question of what is to happen to Nura after she is released, I ask for your permission to take her into my family’s custody. We believe Mosarat will be a better place for her than Insaanistan. When she discovers the fate of her family and the nation I fear the reaction to it and it’s affects on her mental and physical health. My family knows how to deal with that and we have the proper resources. That is why I believe it is best for me to take custody of her.
Sincerely, Farhan Hashem

“I will see that it gets delivered.” She said. The letter was mailed to The President’s Office in Muslimbol.

---

[Insaanistan]

You’re watching Sky News.


Protesters have occupied the Iraqi Parliament again today, but another nation in the region is experiencing something similar: Insaanistan.

Several Insaani MP indicated that they intended to declare the results of the recent Parliamentary elections in the country invalid. The elections saw a surge in voter turnout and a rise in support for Islamist groups in the country. In response, members of the Jundallah militia group’s political wing along with members of other Islamist parties stormed the Parliament without resistance from security. Occupying the building, they emulated protesters in Iraq, with some even bearing pictures of Iraqi figure Muqtada al-Sadr. Protesters in Muslimbol demanded that the MPs recognize the election results and allow Islamists who won their elections to assume their new positions next Friday.

Meanwhile, Al-Qaeda affiliates in Insaanistan are vowing revenge for the death of Ayman Al-Zawahiri, the terrorist leader killed by a US drone strike in Kabul just a few days ago. The group and it’s affiliates have long posed a threat to peace in a country, and believe conquering Insaanistan is central to establishing their global state.

[Insaanistan]

Shaheeda’s eyes shot open as she felt someone clasp their hand over her mouth and whisper “Shhhhhhh.”
However, Shaheeda swiftly grabbed the person’s hand and twisted their arm back, simultaneously knocking off of their balance. The person landed on the ground with a thump and a very familiar groan.
“Muhammad?” she ventured.
“Ooooowwwwwww!” he moaned.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I thought you were trying to kidnap me.”
“I am, stupid. Now shut up so we can get out of here.”

“Aren’t the doctors going to be concerned I’m not in the bed any more?”
“It’s amazing the silence you can buy from a few nurses with just a few dinars.”
“Seriously?” she asked.
“It’s not about what you can do for corruption,” Muhammad said, “but rather what corruption can do for you!”
Shaheeda rolled her eyes, and they left of the hospital, unobstructed by anyone working inside.
“We gotta get you back to Khadijah’s house,” he said. “There’s a lot we have to discuss.”
“Like what?” she questioned.
“You’re going to find this hilarious,” he said, “but the Hashashin have a mission for us.”

---

“Labayk Allahuma labayk!” chanted the protesters. They waved Jundallah flags, Insaani flags, and the banners of various Islamist Insaani parties. They had gathered there to take a stand. They weren’t about to let secularists stop their candidates from taking control of the Parliament.

Of course the candidates themselves weren’t there. Protesting is a messy, lengthy business. But they had announced support for them, so that was good enough. Jundallah militia men and other Insaanis who owned weapons guarded the outside. Suddenly, officers from the Muslimbol Police Department were outside, surrounding the building.

“Attention protesters,” one officer said through a megaphone. “On order of the Mayor of Muslimbol, you are ordered to disperse immediately! Remove yourselves from the premises now!” The protesters responded by throwing stones, styrofoam cups, and most insultingly, shoes. The police responded by firing in the air above the protesters. Mistaking the fire for being intended to kill, one Jundallah, Assim, took aim at an officer, and fired.
Crack.
With one fatal shot, the chaos begins. The police fired back at the protesters, and more Jundallah fighters began firing at the police. Ordinary civilians took cover or ran away, as the firefight grew more and more ferocious. The Jundallah fighters began to fall, and retreated inside the Parliament building. The police began advancing, breaking down windows and doors to get inside.
Assim was carrying one of his fellow militiamen, Hassan, who had been shot between the ribs.
“Ya Ali madad!” Hassan wailed, as he was dragged across the floor of Parliament. Gunshots rang out all around them, as the sound of police officers was closer and closer.
“Lay down your weapons,” came the call of the officers. Assim continued dragging Hassan’s body, though he knew quite well, Hassan was already dead. Behind him, glass shattered as officers broke through the window.
“Assim swung around and aimed at them. No one fired as the chaos ensued around them. More officers appeared behind him.
“Put your weapon down!” an officer ordered. Assim dropped his gun. The fighting continued on around them, but for Assim, it was over. So too was it for Hassan.

[Insaanistan]

Dear Sultan Farhan Hashem,

Peace be upon you with God’s blessings and mercy. I hope this reply finds you in good health. Your request has been reviewed, and deemed reasonable enough. As soon as Nura is returned to Insaani custody, following any visits throughout the country or region she wishes to embark on prior to her relocation, her new residence will be made in Gaia in Mosarat.

Peace,

President Yusuf Ābdul-Ghaffar

[Mosarat]

Dear Sultan Farhan Hashem,

Peace be upon you with God’s blessings and mercy. I hope this reply finds you in good health. Your request has been reviewed, and deemed reasonable enough. As soon as Nura is returned to Insaani custody, following any visits throughout the country or region she wishes to embark on prior to her relocation, her new residence will be made in Gaia in Mosarat.

Peace,

President Yusuf Ābdul-Ghaffar

“Farhan, Yusuf has responded to your letter.” The Sultana said. The Sultan read the letter. “I hope she doesn’t mind living with us.” The Sultan replied. “How is she going to react to the fact her family is dead and she has been deposed and replaced with a republic?” The Sultana asked. “That I don’t know. However if she does lose her temper I have a plan.” The Sultan said. He pulled a tawiz necklace from his smoking jacket. “I used this charm once to quell the jinns within her. It was shortly after Davud was restored. She could have killed him had I not used it.” He explained. “You do realize that we essentially made a decision on where she can live for her right?” The Sultana asked. “Yes. I know have you not heard recently that there is turmoil in Insaanistan over the recent parliamentary elections? Insaanistan is too unstable and now with a republic in place there is simply no place for Nura in that nation.” The Sultan explained. “I hope you made the right decision.” The Sultana said. “As do I.” The Sultan replied.

[Erloane]

When the tent falls several Erloaneans said profanities and complained in latin. Thankfully nobody was harmed and the tent was fixed up quickly. Translator with a loudspeaker made an announcement. "Attention. Please, contact the mayor or any other representative and tell them to come here. We would like to ask them a few questions. That is all. Thank you."

Meanwhile in the command tent an officer is calling his superior back at Insaani-Langenian HQ.
"Pantheon. Ares reporting in. Unloading cargo and establishing relations with locals. No hostile forces sighted, working on getting some intel. Ares over."

The village didn’t really have a mayor, so after much deliberation they just decided to send the oldest person alive in the village. They ended up sending two people, as neither of said people knew their exact age. An old Siwa Amazigh man named Al-Haji Muhammad al-Masri, and a Saīdi Arab woman named Al-Hajia Salma bint Abu Qasem ash-Shaybani. The al-Haji was wrinkled with copper skin in a scraggly silver beard and moustache. He really looked 70, despite the fact he was certainly at least 100 years of age. He stood upright and often adorned traditional Siwi clothing. The al-Hajia was hunched over and considerably more wrinkled. Her facial expression made it look as if she was perpetually squinting. She had a headscarf round her head, but one that resembled those worn by Eastern European Slavic women. She walked with a cane, but did not move slowly. She of late was having a bit of difficulty hearing. She had been born pale skinned but had over the last century or so tanned a great deal, nearly to the al-Haji’s complexion. Mumbling to herself in Arabic, she silently cursed her ruined sandals as she hobbled along with the al-Haji. His lips parted slightly along the way as he thumbed the dhikr beads in his right hand, his left hand placed behind his back, clinging to his light blue gelabiya. The al-Hajia adjusted her veil, a snow-white color that was only that much whiter than her hair. She wore a black abaya as well, which was less likely to get visibly dirtied by the sand.

Erloanean soldiers respectfully welcome the arriving duo in the command tent. Both are offered cold bottled water, fruit pudding and seats. With the aid of a translator the officer begins asking questions is a calm matter.

Questions:
Is there anything else that this village needs?
Any insurgent activity and their strength?
Is the village safe?

Outside the tent mood is pleasant, Erloanean soldiers hanging out with the populace while some kept an eye on the situation, making sure that no violence arose.

[Insaanistan]

The village didn’t really have a mayor, so after much deliberation they just decided to send the oldest person alive in the village. They ended up sending two people, as neither of said people knew their exact age. An old Siwa Amazigh man named Al-Haji Muhammad al-Masri, and a Saīdi Arab woman named Al-Hajia Salma bint Abu Qasem ash-Shaybani. The al-Haji was wrinkled with copper skin in a scraggly silver beard and moustache. He really looked 70, despite the fact he was certainly at least 100 years of age. He stood upright and often adorned traditional Siwi clothing. The al-Hajia was hunched over and considerably more wrinkled. Her facial expression made it look as if she was perpetually squinting. She had a headscarf round her head, but one that resembled those worn by Eastern European Slavic women. She walked with a cane, but did not move slowly. She of late was having a bit of difficulty hearing. She had been born pale skinned but had over the last century or so tanned a great deal, nearly to the al-Haji’s complexion. Mumbling to herself in Arabic, she silently cursed her ruined sandals as she hobbled along with the al-Haji. His lips parted slightly along the way as he thumbed the dhikr beads in his right hand, his left hand placed behind his back, clinging to his light blue gelabiya. The al-Hajia adjusted her veil, a snow-white color that was only that much whiter than her hair. She wore a black abaya as well, which was less likely to get visibly dirtied by the sand.

Erloanean soldiers respectfully welcome the arriving duo in the command tent. Both are offered cold bottled water, fruit pudding and seats. With the aid of a translator the officer begins asking questions is a calm matter.

Questions:
Is there anything else that this village needs?
Any insurgent activity and their strength?
Is the village safe?

Outside the tent mood is pleasant, Erloanean soldiers hanging out with the populace while some kept an eye on the situation, making sure that no violence arose.

Both thanked the Erloaneans profusely for the water and snacks.

“We need vaccines”, the al-Haji said. “We were never vaccinated against the coronavirus. We want to be safe if it flares up again.”

“Our village is usually safe,” the al-Hajia answered. “But sometimes, Jundallah fighters and army soldiers fight each other. Never battles, only fistfights.”

[Erloane]

Erloanean soldiers respectfully welcome the arriving duo in the command tent. Both are offered cold bottled water, fruit pudding and seats. With the aid of a translator the officer begins asking questions is a calm matter.

Questions:
Is there anything else that this village needs?
Any insurgent activity and their strength?
Is the village safe?

Outside the tent mood is pleasant, Erloanean soldiers hanging out with the populace while some kept an eye on the situation, making sure that no violence arose.

Both thanked the Erloaneans profusely for the water and snacks.

“We need vaccines”, the al-Haji said. “We were never vaccinated against the coronavirus. We want to be safe if it flares up again.”

“Our village is usually safe,” the al-Hajia answered. “But sometimes, Jundallah fighters and army soldiers fight each other. Never battles, only fistfights.”

"Mhmm. Would you be for a few of our soldiers staying here to maintain peace and watch out while we go get your vaccines?"

[Insaanistan]

Both thanked the Erloaneans profusely for the water and snacks.

“We need vaccines”, the al-Haji said. “We were never vaccinated against the coronavirus. We want to be safe if it flares up again.”

“Our village is usually safe,” the al-Hajia answered. “But sometimes, Jundallah fighters and army soldiers fight each other. Never battles, only fistfights.”

"Mhmm. Would you be for a few of our soldiers staying here to maintain peace and watch out while we go get your vaccines?"

“Not at all,” the al-Hajia said. “Good bless you all.”

[Insaanistan]

Sighing, Ābdul-Ghaffar Yusuf walked up the podium. He looked out the the crowd of reporters gathered. Taking a deep breath, he read what he had prepared.

In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful,

In the 1930s, the followers of Omar Mukhtar landed in the interior of Egypt and Libya, hoping to regroup to defeat the colonial Fascists in their homelands. They had no clue they would found a nation stretching from the Atlantic to the Red Sea. At present, we are the giant of Africa, a power broker internet the Middle East. We are the world’s greatest oil producing nation. We are a nation diverse as the sands of the desert, as unique as a fingerprint.

But we are a nation that has seen much hardship. 2 coups and even more coup attempts. The deaths of our leaders, the martyrdoms of our citizens, the loss of our families and friends. Outside actors, terrorists, Zionists and more wished to make our nation their playing ground.

We tried to make the West our friend, and they betrayed us. The kicked us out of land we rightfully acquired, and killed our brave men and women. We tried to make friends with the East, and they deceived us. We discovered hood and bad in and among both.

We had endured economic hardship, ethnic violence, political unrest, civil wars and terrorist attacks. The continuation of our nation’s very existence, just a few years ago, was doubtful. And yet look around. Insaanistan has not fallen. Our Royal Family was slaughtered mercilessly, yes. But Insaanistan has not fallen. There has been blood spilt on this land, yes. But Insaanistan has not fallen. We have been bombed and shot at and cut. But Insaanistan has not fallen. Our banner still flies over our capitol. Insaanistan has not fallen.

Our people pulled through. When no one wished to help us, we survived. Now, the people must show the world just how strong we are. I announce that next (though not this) Friday, the Republic of Insaanistan will enter a period of complete and total isolation.

We are fully prepared to allow anyone who wishes to enter to enter, and those who wish to leave to leave. We will not impede anyone going either way. We are fully prepared to make arrangements with other nations to get their citizens and officials out if need be. We are fully prepared to work with our trade partners to ensure the global economic will not be hit too hard by this. We are fully prepared to work with the nations around the world to ensure that security is maintained across the globe.

We must enter this period of isolation, for the good of us all. Thank you, and God bless Insaanistan.