[b]The Hedjaz, Summer of 1836[/b]

The Saudis and their heresy had angered the Ottoman Sultan, and for once, he shared common cause with the Governor of Egypt, his over-mighty subject. Now Tusun Pasha, a younger son of said Governor, marched south to enforce both their wills, with an army of conscripts and volunteers, young men chasing glory or dreading punishment. With them were the superior weapons and tactics of the 'Frankish' Christians, adapted for use by righteous Muslims, which the Pasha and his family most assuredly told them that the Wahhabi Saudis were not.

To Khalid al-Misr, newly-promoted officer in the army marching south to save the Hashemites of the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina from the heresy of the House of Saud, it also meant advancement, promotion, and eventually, a chance to let the seeds of 'Nationalism' planted in the fertile soil of his soul blossom.

He owed the elder Pasha everything; his plucking from the madrasas and their stagnant teachings, the training in the arts of war and the awakening of his mind to the beauties of science, technology, and philosophy... And his realization that for thousands of years, Egypt was not ruled by its own people, but by [i]foriegners[/i]. Imagine; the one he owed his life and fortune to was also the one who continued put his people under a yoke!

But as he rode his horse, leading the platoons of infantry behind him to the new camp set up near Medina itself, where the House of Hashim's men were already sending fresh supplies and provisions, Khalid realized that he needed to be patient, that men twice his age would have fallen into intrigue and conspiracy at the moment of realization... and failed.

So he would continue to serve Ibrahim Pasha, until like most foriegn dynasties who had set themselves up in Egypt, his seed and the seed of his family dried up. After all, he was yet young - Twenty-five was a young age when an officer in this sort of army. Besides, there were Wahabbis to slaugther.

[b]Cairo, Summer of 1836[/b]

"Send a message to the secret police; have them put an end to the rumors that we're closing overland transfers through the Sinai to the British," Muhammad Ali Pasha, Governor of Egypt, said to his aide as he sat on the Governor's chair, a chair which would have been a throne if he had his way. "And if there is any truth to the rumors, have a contingent of cavalry sent to arrest the local governor. Now... for the next object of business."

Into the audience chamber of the Citadel of Cairo, the site of one of his greatest triumphs, walked his eldest son, Ibrahim. Without any sign of disrespect, but with every sign of confusion, on his face, his favored child, the Hero of Konya, bowed before him and said in a puzzled tone, "Why are we sending 6000 men and a siege train to Ethiopia? They won't be enough to hold the lands of the Christians there, even if they slaugther every army which comes their way. Add the risk of heat and disease -"

The Pasha, the Governor of Egypt, who wished the title of Sultan one day, answered in a wry tone, "They're not coming to conquer, they're keeping the infidel's rightful Emperor on his throne."

Ibrahim looked up, his eyebrow raised, "Gigar the powerless?"

He shook his head and said, "The current Emperor is one Sahle Dengel, a heretic denounced by his own sect. We will break him free from his regent, a man whose own beliefs are inconsistent and unclear, and put him on the throne in Gondar, on the condition that once order is restored in his 'Empire', he will dedicate his personal lands to the plantating and harvest of coffee, which he will sell exclusively to us at a price high to him but low compared to the world market."

His son still had doubts, "This will be seen as perfidious; we must move swiftly lest the Europeans catch wind of our actions; the latest news from France and Russia risks paralyzing our protectors against the British and their damned fleet. Then again, what do they know of Ethiopia?"

Muhammad Ali Pasha nodded and said, "Very little, and that is our defense."