As the sun rose on the new day, Ibraim had just finished his morning bath before getting dressed and heading to the dining hall to eat breakfast with his family. As he sat down with his family and after they had all begun to eat, Ibraim had to ask his father for permission for the production of weapons for a city guard/citizen militia.
"Father, may I have permission to begin the production of weapons?"
When his father heard this, he had to put his fork down, before gazing at his son with confusion
"Weapons? For what? You said your factories shall only be used to increase our production of iron and other supplies? For what reason could you possibly have to make weapons?"
"Well, father, I believe it would be in our best interest that in case you and your army have to march off to war. It would be good to have a city guard or peasant militia to defend the city in case your army were defeated and Kakandé came under siege from an enemy."
With this reasoning, his father found no reason to deny his request but his mother found a much larger issue.
"Absolutely not! I will not allow you to produce weapons to arm the commoners with! What if they deem us unworthy of ruling and overthrow us! Its too much of a safety hazard!"
Immediately a scowl was put on Ibraim's face as his mother immediately tried to dissuade his father.
"Father, if you really become worried about such an eventuality, we can construct a vault that will only be open when they train."
With that assurance, his father shot his wife a gaze before looking back at his son before agreeing with him
"Very well son, you may proceed with your plans to produce arms and create a peasant militia."
"Thank you father!"
And with permission gained, his plans to create muskets and introduce a new age of warfare to the entirety of the old world. As breakfast ends, the young heir returns to his room to begin drafting up plans for a musket. What he ends up with is essentially a copy of the British pattern 1842 musket. With the introduction of more advanced firearms, he is going to need factories or powder mills and he needs people to teach chemistry to create his own saltpeter for black powder. Though, prospecting for natural saltpeter deposits will do for now. One other piece of technology he needs is artillery, the design he went with was the American 20-Pounder Parrott Rifled Cannon, though he took out the rifling to streamline the production until he made more foundries that will be able to deal with the rifling of firearms. Sure, he could produce rifled arms but creating a mold that has the rifling carved into it but the real problem is when the rifling wears out. His factories are unable to re-rifle the barrel of a firearm, so smoothbores will have to do. The reason he went with those two pieces of firearm technology is because the Pattern 1842 could be considered the height of Smoothbore Musket technology, with it being designed and produced in a time where rifling became more and more common. With an improved bayonet catch and made of steel, it allowed for greater durability for the extended use of its production. As for the 20-pounder Parrott cannon, it was a good middle ground between the Napoleon 16-pounder field gun and the 24-pounder cannon that exists primarily for static defense. As Ibraim finished his designs for the new weapons, he decided that he might as well introduce the factory system and the assembly line to streamline the production of his new arms.
The young heir rushed out of the castle, heading to Oumar's new office next to the fledgling industrial sector of the city. Due to the increase of the production of iron and slag, the smoke being pumped out of the foundries is the most it has ever been. Oumar sits at his desk, reading the daily reports of production for the previous week before nearly having a heart attack as Ibraim slams the door open.
"Oumar! I have new designs I want you to implement!"
With the sudden intrusion from the young heir, the old man nearly fell out of his chair right there. As much as he wanted to yell at the boy, he decided to bite his tongue before looking at the new blueprints. As soon as he saw them he nearly fell out of his chair again as he understood that it'll revolutionize warfare.
"My lord! How did you come up with these designs?! This will completely change the rules of warfare!"
Ibraim grinned at Oumar's dumbfounded expression before offering Oumar a break from work.
"Indeed Oumar, but before you work yourself to death building the powder mills and the new arms for the militia I am working on, how about a drink? I brought someone of the good stuff from the castle"
Now, despite Islam taking over the empire, not everyone followed the religion to the word of the Quran. Such as his father and sister. They were far more secular than a decent portion of the population, though Oumar was definitely not of the latter and enjoyed a glass of beer every once in a while. So, despite wanting to immediately work on the new blueprints, he decided to join the young heir for a drink.
"Aye, I could do that. A drink would be nice if I'm gonna be working myself to death implementing your ideas."
And so, they both sat down to drink. While Ibraim in his last life was never a heavy drinker, or even a drinker in general, in this body, he found it slightly more enjoyable. Though, he would still prefer a cola to alcohol. He would have to invent cola and carbonized drinks, but luxuries can always wait.
(Story is available here and on Wattpad! Go check it out if you want.)