Dec 9th, 1978
Yazov's Bunker, Omsk, Russia
0940
As Grand Marshal Dimitry Yazov sat listening to the various proposals of the Generals' staff with interest, he couldn't help but feel sorrow. As he knew that yet another Great Trial was ahead of him, he also felt his heart stir with anger and hatred as his forces spread out into the countryside. Which further confirmed that what the Lieutenant had said concerning the young colt was true: These ponies had indeed turned his people into more of themselves. Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to eliminate these ponies from the face of the earth. His troops were still redeploying from the bunkers, which meant they would have supply problems for at least the first few days. Worse still, he had also heard reports of the ponies mobilizing their local forces to slow down or even break the advance, which would slow progress even further as his commanders had to move units to intercept. They also had to do this while lacking air support, as they had to move the entire airforce from the bunkers with all their logistics, which could take days, if not weeks. "Comrade Yazov, are you alright?" asked one of the generals who Yazov recognized as Maj-Gen. Leonid
Sergeev.
In response, Yazov quickly shook himself from his inward contemplation. "Yes, I'm fine. Now, let us continue," he said as he gestured for them to continue.
Sergeev coughed into his sleeve before turning to the others, who nodded for him to continue. "So, as I was saying, my troops are still deploying, but I have the forward elements of the 150th Gds. Motor Rifle Regt. Occupying the village of Ozyokovo to ensure our attack on Omsk is secure," he explained as he pointed to an empty spot on the map.
Yazov scratched his chin as he tried to recall if he had heard that name before. When he realized he did not, he turned to his commanders. "Excuse me, Comrade General, but is that a new village?"
In response, the Major-General nodded in affirmation. "Indeed, it is quite small and appears to be populated by older ponies," he replied. "Thankfully, we took the village with no resistance early this morning, as the populace welcomed our troops,"
At this, Yazov, and the others, nearly lost all composure as they sharply turned to Maj-Gen. Sergeev with wide eyes. "What do you mean? I thought they hated us!" shouted Lt-Gen. Sergei Mikhailov as he stared at him in shock.
Sergeev turned to the man in response. "I thought so too, but they just let us in. Hell, they even threw a parade for us, not to mention speaking Russian," he explained.
In response, Yazov, with the rest of the general's staff, seemed to contemplate their next move based on this information before the others turned to him, wordlessly asking him what they should do. "This is a most...unexpected outcome. However, I think it best to leave them, at least for the moment," he responded, with the others nodding in agreement. "Now, how long do you predict it will take to assemble enough forces to liberate Omsk?"
In response, General Dimitri Petrenko, commander of the 1st Army Group, turned to Yazov. "The 1st Army Group should be ready by the end of the day, Grand Marshal, as our troops are deploying from every exit in the complex,"
"Very good, Gen. Petrenko," replied Yazov as he stood up. "Now, I leave it to you, Comrades. I have a speech to plan," the others stood up, and Yazov exchanged a salute before turning and marching out of the room.
-
Dec 9th, 2042
Ozyokovo Village, Omsk Oblast, Russia
0950
In the aftermath of the morning's events, Clay Cracker couldn't think of a moment in his life when he felt so powerless, aside from the last time he saw his parents. After about an hour of waiting, the musty smell was starting to irritate him, but after the human's arrived, his Grandpa commanded him to stay in the attic while they talked with them, and while he could still hear their voices, he didn't understand a word. Either way, he was afraid. After all, his whole life, his teachers, friends, and even his Grandpa had warned him of the evils of humanity, yet, after the speech the other day, the pony he thought least likely to want the humanities return had suddenly switched sides. Then, he was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of heavy steps hitting the wood floor, and then, without warning, the attic entrance opened. As if on instinct, he slowly began backing away from it as a tall human, wearing a plain khaki uniform, slowly came up the ladder. However, instead of coming up, he stayed put on the ladder with just his head and shoulders poking above the floor, regarding him with a pair of icy blue eyes peeking out from his oily brown hair. Then, he turned to look back down the ladder before looking back at him. "You, come," he said with a thick accent before gesturing him to follow before descending back down the ladder. Clay mentally paused for a moment, weighing his options: On the one hoof, if he stayed put, he would likely get himself in trouble, so he did as the man instructed and followed after him.
When Clay came down, he was surprised to find at least six humans loitering around in the living room, eating freshly baked bread; Clay could tell as soon as the attic opened that his Grandpa had been baking as the aroma always filled the house. Speaking of the stallion, he could see him chatting with the same man who had come up to get him on the couch near the burning fireplace. "Ah, there you are, Clay. I hope Captain Kiselev didn't scare you too much?" said Breaker, or his other name, which he had forgotten.
In response, Clay turned to man, then to his Grandfather. "Uh, I mean, I'm not scared. But I don't understand. What's going on?" he replied.
The man chuckled before standing up and looking down at him. "Well, Comrade, I was hoping you and your Grandfather could answer me the same thing," he said before turning to Breaker, asking him something in that strange tongue that he couldn't understand.
"No, he does not speak Russian," replied his Grandpa. "But, he was born after the end of the last war, so it's hardly surprising,"
The man seemed to ponder this before nodding to himself. "I see... Can you teach him?" he asked the stallion, whose eyes went wide as though he hadn't considered it, but he nodded vigorously. "Very good, you make Marshal Yazov proud," he said as the stallion stared at him in confusion.
"Wait, who?" asked Breaker as Clay continued to listen. After all, if he could understand them, then all was well.
In response, the Captain looked at Breaker with a cocked brow. "Don't you know? I'm talking about Grand Marshal Yazov, the liberator of Russia-" Breaker cut him off with a chuckle.
"What? You mean with his attempt to overthrow Gorbachev?" he asked as the Captain shook his head in annoyance.
"Who is this Gorbachev? I have never heard that name," he replied as he appeared to think before turning back to him.
"How do you not know him? He was the last General Secretary of the USSR!" shouted Breaker as the Captain, and the others' eyes went wide in shock.
"How the hell is that possible!? The USSR dissolved in 1942!" he shouted as Clay slowly began to back away. Soon enough, they were all erupting in angered tones as they bellowed back and forth in Russian. However, this abruptly ended when a man threw open the front door.
-
Dec 9th, 1978
Ozyokovo Village, Omsk Oblast, Russia
1001
As Sargent Major Sergei Eremeev opened the door, he was confused to find Cpt. Kiselev and the others looked at him as though he had interrupted something important. "Uh, Commander, LT. Bogdanov has returned, and he requested to see you," he said as the Captain shot up from the couch, put on his greatcoat and took his ushanka.
"Alright, let's see what he has to say," replied the Captain as he turned to regard the stallion still seated on the couch. "But when I'm back, I wish to hear the rest of what you have to say,"