I need a thousand labourers working around the clock for a hundred days, and we shall have our forts. There will be no step on our snieg!
Somewhere else. Could use a name.
It was the same as before. Green magic, dark red magic, and more green magic in Rujy's hands.
Compared to Aspen's horn, his hands were extremely pale, with only a slight green shade.
Right. Don't panic this time. What can I do?
He could feel the changeling's magic emanating outwards continuously, being absorbed by... he couldn't tell what, exactly. By contrast, the dark red glow of the other humans was static and viscous, sticking firmly to their bodies.
Experimenting a little, Rujy grabbed a tiny part of the changeling's magic. He could feel time running out, so he simply observed as a bright white light engulfed them.
[Reminds me of myself in a way. So foolish and trusting of the unknown, so willing to experiment. It will have consequences, though.]
Sector 4, Stalliongrad Industrial Complex. August 7th, 2045. 6:58 AM
"Move it over here, to the left! No, the other left! Your left!"
The shouting sounded like that of a Russian.
Rujy, the three medics, and Aspen had appeared in a small, protected alcove behind one of the warehouses, surrounded by large boxes and crates cleverly placed to look like disorganised clutter yet completely protect the small space from view.
The changeling was scribbling something on his notepad. He hurriedly tore off and folded a couple of pages with his front hoof and pressed it into Rujy's hand.
"You, human. This must get to Princess Twilight Sparkle- I don't care how many months or years it takes, but it must get there. Remember that name very carefully. Princess. Twilight. Sparkle. Tell her it's from Aspen. The fate of the changeling race relies on this. Don't give it to the Royal Guard, and especially not to the Stalliongrad government. I have to go now- the Royal Guard must already be teleporting into Outpost Asp, the stasis spell would have alerted Princess Celestia. I must secure my research. Goodluck, humans."
"Wait-" The changeling disappeared in a mild flash of green light. "Oh, dammit." Rujy had no idea who this Twilight Sparkle was, whether she was a changeling or a pony, or how to get to her. He tucked the pages into his coat.
"You three, not a word about this. We don't want any panic spreading. I'll confide in dedushka myself. Understood?"
"Yessir!" replied the three medics.
The group carefully exited the protected space. They were in a small alley wedged between two rows of warehouses. From one side, Rujy could hear shouted orders and conversation. It sounded like the fighting had stopped.
"This is a convenient place to teleport to," he quietly observed as he led the way around the side of the warehouse. Each warehouse was a huge, decently tall brick building topped off with a slanted roof with large windows to let daylight in.
"I don't like this whole pony business, Lieutenant Colonel. The changelings and the Nightguard especially seem kind of suspicious. What, they just randomly found us in the middle of nowhere, and a full plan ready to sneak us and our equipment into Stalliongrad? I don't buy it." Alekzander shook his head.
Rujy didn't answer as they stepped out of the alley into the noisy, busy wide 'street' between this row of warehouses and the next.
The warehouse that they had previously been residing in was entirely burnt down, now just a pile of still-smouldering debris and ashes that a group of Russian soldiers was picking through. Hastily erected canvas tents on the street formed a haphazard field camp, with soldiers moving between the tents, sometimes carrying medical equipment or structures. A large quantity of guns, ammunition, tools, and other military equipment lay on a tarp in the open air. It was guarded only by a trio of half-asleep soldiers.
Their vehicles were lined up in a row in front of one of the warehouses, soot and ash being cleaned off of them.
A frighteningly large contingent of a few dozen Royal Guard soldiers two warehouses down the street formed a perimeter keeping civilians and what seemed to be a militia armed with crude rifles and pitchforks at bay. Captain Artimey and Captain Rolan were nearby with a large escort of Russian soldiers, deep in conversation with two ponies- one dressed in fancy military apparel and the other in plain but clean work clothes. There were more Guards and militia around the ponies.
The medic squad dispersed. Rujy decided that the conversation going on seemed to be the most pressing matter, and warily approached the small crowd. The nearest Russian soldiers saluted and gave way, relief etched on their faces. He stepped through the crowd and hovered uncertainly near Captain Artimey, listening on as the two unicorns argued with each other.
“I will remind you to respect our autonomy, your grace, High Coat.”
High Coat huffed. “Equestria takes care of foreign policy and military matters. This appears to be both.”
The other unicorn smiled slightly. Both of the unicorns were similar in appearance, with the same pristine white coat of fur and about the same height. They were, ofcourse, much shorter than the humans.
“Ah, but do they form a sovereign and internationally recognised nation?”
“Don’t get technical with me, Grey Coat-”
Grey Coat appeared not to hear. “And, thus, they are refugees, are they not? And this area-” He motioned around at the field camp and surrounding warehouses. “-is a refugee camp. To imprison or dislocate these refugees which we have accepted would constitute an overreach of the Equestrian government and break our treaty. Do you really want that, your grace?”
From his position, Rujy could see a trickle of sweat running down Grey Coat’s muzzle. The unicorn was stressed but trying not to show it, compared to the stoic and entirely impassive face of High Coat.
The two unicorns stared each other down. Finally, High Coat sighed.
“I’ll contact my superiors. We will speak again in, let’s say, five minutes. Hopefully, with the presence of the Russian commander.” He glared at Artimey, who simply tipped his hat respectfully. The two unicorns marched off in separate directions- High Coat surrounded by Royal Guard, and Grey Coat by militia.
Artimey finally noticed Rujy. “Ah, Lieutenant Colonel! We were getting worried. We thought you may have been kidnapped by those bat horses.”
Rujy grimaced. “Your guesses weren’t far off.” Artimey raised an eyebrow. “Later. For now, er- what do we do?”
Captain Artimey waved off their escort of soldiers, leaving just him, Rujy, Rolan. “You’re the Lieutenant Colonel.” He gave Rujy a hard stare.
Rolan watched the exchange with a small grin, like a shark waiting to bite off a large chunk of flesh. Rujy supposed he hadn’t been very Lieutenant Colonel-y so far.
“Ah. Right. Well… report on the situation, Captain.”
“Yes, sir. The fire from the explosion our engineers caused spread much more violently than they anticipated. The gas lines probably ruptured. We began pulling out the injured and whatever equipment we could from the warehouse.
“It seems that the void creatures were unable to cross outside the building when dawn arrived, so we just waited as the heat devoured them. Then the other warehouses began catching fire, and the Stalliongrad fire department finally arrived and directed us to help.”
Artimey shook his head appreciatively. “If only Soviet Russia had more men as brave and strong as those earthponies. They asked no questions, went right down to business. Meanwhile Duke Important over there arrived with a lot of Royal Guards- which would have been helpful much, much earlier- and started asking questions. I pointed him to the Nightguard, who he argued with until Grey Coat showed up.
“From what I can tell, Grey Coat is an important member of the Stalliongrad government- which is the autonomous government of this region, that gained partial independence a couple of decades ago but is still occupied and 'protected' by the Royal Guard. Messy, messy politics.”
Rujy winced. Dedushka’s explanation added context to the argument from earlier, and it looked like the Russians were caught between two opposing groups. Not good in the slightest.
“What’s the status of the wounded?”
Artimey’s voice turned grim. “Two more passed since you left. The rest are stable, but it’s all hands on deck for the medics, and no one has had more than two hours of sleep since yesterday.”
Rujy swallowed. “What are our numbers? And the status of our equipment?”
“493 in total, with 57 injured. We have ten Mishkas, Wolverines, and Grizons, and four Maulers. Our current equipment is sufficient to arm about 700 infantry, so we have no problem in terms of weapons. Food, fuel, water, and medical supplies will last at least a couple of weeks. Alcohol is running out. We left most of our heavy equipment and electronics back at the crash site, but I sent a squad to go fetch it in a pair of Maulers. None of the ponies stopped them.”
Seeing High Coat returning out of the corner of his eye, Rujy asked hurriedly, "Anything else I should know?"
"Not much. I'll go now to see if anyone needs me. Just... be careful of what you say- this may be an informal meeting, but your words will be noted. Our priorities right now are a place to stay, and some way of getting essential supplies. We can figure out getting back home after that. Good luck, Lieutenant Colonel!"
With that, Artimey hobbled away towards the tents. Rolan stopped, looking like he wanted to say something, but eventually followed Artimey.
"Oh, where have they gone off to now?" grumbled High Coat. He was joined a second later by Grey Coat. Both of them only had a duo of guards each backing them up this time. Rujy hoped this meant that they were more willing to talk cooperatively.
"You won't be needing Captain Artimey, uh, your grace. I am Lieutenant Colonel Rujy, commander of the Volki. Good to meet you." If there was one thing Rujy was good at, it was talking smoothly. He just needed to fill the conversation with empty pleasantries until he could figure out what exactly each of the unicorns wanted.
"Finally! I was starting to think that the fabled Lieutenant Colonel would never show up."
"Good to meet you too," responded Grey Coat more politely. "And welcome to Stalliongrad. I'm deeply sorry that we couldn't show you a better welcome."
"Ah, do not worry about it. I wish you didn't have to see us in such a state."
"Right, right, to business. What do you intend to do with them, Grey Coat?" High Coat's voice was strangely stressed, compared to his cool demeanor before.
"As I said before- offer them refugee status and allow them into this refugee camp. What did your superiors say?"
High Coat turned directly to Rujy. "Lieutenant Colonel, you are granted asylum in Equestria. Your men will be processed and eventually offered full citizenship, if you wish. We can arrange other terms, too."
Grey Coat's brow furrowed. "What? But they're refugees-"
"And so they may choose if they want to stay here, or take refuge in Equestria. Such is international law." High Coat gave a cold smile. "What do you say, Lieutenant Colonel Rujy?"
Rujy was entirely lost here- he didn't trust the Royal Guard from how the Nightguard had reacted to their raid, but he knew next to nothing about either the Royal Guard or Stalliongrad. He had no idea what would be done with the Russians if he chose either option. An idea formed in his head.
"Does the offer still stand if we choose to stay in Stalliongrad?" he asked High Coat.
"Well... yes, I suppose so."
Rujy turned to Grey Coat. "And, if we stay here, are we free to leave at any time?"
"Ofcourse. We can't exactly keep you trapped here, but if you do leave, it will have to be quick. No offense, but you could be a threat to our civilians."
Rujy genuinely smiled. He finally felt in control for the first time in the chaos of the past few hours. "Then it's settled. We will make our home in Stalliongrad- for now."
Unnamed Special Refugee Camp, Sector 4. 8:16 AM
"A bulletproof vest at all times, and two bodyguards," instructed Captain Artimey to one of his officers. "We can't risk the safety of the Lieutenant Colonel- if anything seems off, they are to block the line of sight of any Stalliongrad gunponies. Understood?"
"Yes, sir! I'll arrange it immediately."
As the officer left the command tent via a flap at the front, Rujy sighed. "Again, is this strictly necessary? Those are two less men for more useful tasks."
"This doesn't feel right. Stalliongrad has a perimeter of ponies practically corralling us in, as if they're waiting to invade. A firing line, of sorts."
"Invade?" scoffed Rujy. "They have, what, two dozen ponies? And only half of them have rifles. The rest just have random shovels and pickaxes. These aren't well-trained soldiers, these are random workers they picked off the street. No, this is their poor attempt at security, not intimidation."
The two men were hunched over a small table scavenged from one of the warehouses, sharing a box of rations. Biscuits and stale bread didn't make for the best breakfast, but Rujy downed it down anyways. Captain Artimey had already finished his portion and was going over a large document on the history of Stalliongrad. The 'command tent' was fairly spacious, but entirely unfurnished except for three chairs and two tables. A group of officers surrounded another table, planning out perimeter security.
At Grey Coat's insistence, High Coat's Guards had withdrawn quite quickly. Grey Coat himself had only exchanged a few pleasantries with Rujy and promised to provide medical supplies as soon as possible before leaving. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Afterwards, Rujy had sat down Captain Artimey and Rolan and summarised the events of his sort-of kidnapping. There were few questions- he guessed the two men considered it just another crazy, unexplained part of the new world.
After a few minutes, Rujy stood up and stretched his arms. "Let's take a walk, dedushka?"
"If you say so, Lieutenant Colonel."
The two stood up and exited the tent. The little field camp formed a semicircle on the road, consisting of a command tent, supply tent, three barracks- hardly enough to fit forty men, let alone five hundred- and two infirmaries. A group of soldiers was lugging in a small radar array, which they brought into the supply tent.
"What's the electricity situation?" asked Rujy.
Artimey frowned. "We tried hooking a computer up to the heavy outlets in the warehouses. It blew instantly. The engineers attached a resistor first, they thought the voltage may be too high- same issue. All of the meters don't function either. They're currently working on the issue, but don't expect results."
Rujy stopped in front of the large main door to another of the warehouses. It was entirely empty inside, but he couldn't see into the small office area that each warehouse had. He guessed it was unfurnished too, though.
"Portable generators?"
"Good idea. I'll see if the recovery squad got any from the crash site. Oh, speaking of the recovery team- they pulled all of the fighter jets that they could back onto the beach with the Maulers. The cargo planes are still there, too. We can go back at any time to see if they're functioning."
Rujy nodded appreciatively. "Good to have an escape route."
"Rujy... what's our plan exactly?"
He stopped and breathed in. He had expected this question, sooner or later.
Rujy had asked it himself, and he was afraid to answer it.
"I don't know."
Artimey simply nodded. He put his hand on Rujy's shoulder.
"Lieutenant Colonel Rujy. You are young, and I am old and experienced. We both know this. And, so far, I have acted in only an advisory capacity."
This was sounding suspiciously like the start of a declaration of mutiny.
"And I will continue to do so. You have great potential, Lieutenant Colonel. You just need direction and opportunity." Artimey spread his arms wide. "Here is your opportunity! There are no superiors here, no corruption, no internal strife to stand in the way of a new Russia! We can build a harmonious and prosperous society here, protected from our enemies, the way we see fit! Doesn't it fill you with strength and determination? Shake off the sins of your fathers, and of theirs, and strive for peace and greatness, Lieutenant Colonel Rujy!" The old man stopped, short of breath. "I need to- huff- stop giving big speeches."
Rujy wasn't sure where Artimey had gotten this sudden inspiration, but it was infectious. His mind was filled with endless possibilities and ideas on how to help their men and develop their little camp. "You are right, Captain. We can do this! One step at a time."
He led Artimey back quickly to the command tent, where a large group of officers had gathered with Captain Rolan.
"Ah, Lieutenant Colonel. I was about to send for you. We've finally drawn up a perimeter security plan. Should I explain it or...?"
"Captain," nodded Rujy. "And officers of the Volki. The security plan can wait. I have a more important plan to discuss. Someone, grab a notepad, and be our secretary. This is our first meeting in the field.
"Our mission hasn't changed. We were sent to investigate and possibly build a temporary research base for the next couple of weeks in Antarctica. Although we have no support or advice here, what we want to do is basically the same- construct a camp with all the basic facilities that we need for long-term survival. We have more than enough space- four warehouses and the area between them- and hopefully access to all basic supplies from the Stalliongrad government. We will not survive here, no, we will thrive while we gather information about this New World and try to find a way to get back to Earth. That is our long-term goal!
"We will start by sorting out command. If I recall correctly, each of you were assigned civic duties in addition to your military roles, right?"
"Yes, sir," responded one of the officers. The rest remained silent, clearly unsure where this was going.
"Name your roles in turn, please. Clockwise around the table, starting from my right."
"Communications and pay assurance, sir."
"Medical services."
"I take care of food and water."
In total, they had twelve people responsible for some civic part of the base. Rujy assigned security to one and foreign relations to another, bringing it up to fourteen.
"I need all of you to make a report on whether the needs you're responsible for are being addressed, and how to solve any related issues. Our first priority is getting the very basics of each department up, and then building on top of that in the future. Let us discuss what we need the most right now."
An officer raised his hand. The engineer company head, if Rujy remembered correctly. "We have plenty of interior space available in the warehouses. They have indoor lighting, heating, and one of the warehouses is full of general furniture and construction materials like brick and cement. We could throw up some interior walls, build proper living and work spaces for everyone. It wouldn't take too long, either- maybe a week or two, at most a month if we're being fancy."
"Is that really a priority right now?" argued another officer. "We need to get everyone rested, and the injured treated, before we start giving the men heavy manual labour to do."
The engineer raised his hands defensively. "I was just throwing out a suggestion."
"We need assurances that this 'Stalliongrad' government will actually give us the essentials we need. Do we even know if ponies eat regular food? They could be grass eaters for all we know."
"Don't worry about that, officer. Focus on the things we can affect," intervened Rujy. The conversation was going in a direction that he didn't want it to- back towards uncertainty and factors out of their control.
"I say we start by dividing personnel into each 'department', instead of directly adhering to the command hierarchy. That way, everyone can work on their projects," suggested someone at the back of the tent. No one objected, so Rujy grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper and noted it down.
It seemed the others were more emboldened by this successful idea, and the suggestions now came much faster. It ranged from practical ideas- mostly from the engineer head- like setting up a proper electricity system throughout the warehouses, to farfetched things such as providing a cargo transportation service to the ponies- which was, ofcourse, utterly ridiculous and something no sane person would consider.
One idea interested Rujy.
"It'll be harder for Stalliongrad to just chuck us out or encroach on our land if we build a wall. Nothing impressive, just a brick wall with a couple of guard platforms. Make it clear where our territory starts, and that we're ready to protect it."
"Not really high priority, but I will note it down. Any objections?"
No one had any. Rujy waited for more suggestions, but it seemed that the well of ideas had finally been drained. He looked over the perimeter security plan, but it didn't seem vital enough to warrant a full meeting.
"Well, I suppose that will wrap it up. Thank you for coming, everyone, and goodluck. Use the rest of this day to make your reports, collect information, and get the men rested. Tomorrow, we begin! Dismissed."
As the officers filtered out of the tent alone or in pairs, Captain Artimey sidled up next to Rujy.
"I'm impressed."
"Hm?"
"You aren't normally so commanding and focused. Did old man Artimey's speech finally get through to you?"
Rujy gave a small grin.
"Not quite just that. This... well, I realised that no one else is going to take charge. We are in a tight situation. The slightest error could be disaster. I do not understand what the Nightguard, or the Royal Guard, or the changelings, or Stalliongrad, or the Americans want, but it seems we are just pawns in a game of chess. Well, we'll give them a damn good match. What we need is hope, and progress, and focus. And I think... I think I can give people that."
Captain Rolan butted in. "You forgot one thing, though, Lieutenant Colonel."
"That is?"
"A name for this little experiment of yours, of course."
Rujy shrugged. He was still trying to figure out Rolan- why the soldier put in so much effort, and yet was so disdaining and unfaithful in Rujy. At first he had thought it was because of his own incompetence, but now he wasn't entirely sure.
A name, hm...
"How about... Krylya?"
"Krylya, hm?" considered Artimey. "I like it, it rolls off the tongue well."
Rolan shook his head, but he was smiling. "Fine, then. Welcome to Krylya! Possibly the first human colony on this New World, and the last."