"Their final thoughts were of home and the people they had loved."

--

"I'm telling you Itami, Wing was the Best of the Gundam series. After that it was all girls in short skirts and pilots who got really whiny," said Kurato, the young otaku with a catgirl fetish talking about something other than that for once and actually serious for once.

"I don't know about that. I mean I enjoyed a lot of the different reboots and I don't think Wing was the be all end all of Gundam. I mean it only touched on some of the cooler technology that the ones after it did."

"Yeah, but that's just technology. That's not actual good story and dialogue," countered Kurato.

"Hey, let's not start slinging mud. Gundam series other than wing had good dialogue."

"That's true to an extent, but they never got as good as Wing did in story. I like the new anime, but in this case the classic stands tall."

"Or you two could stop talking about TV shows meant for kids on an open frequency like they're actual literature. Baka's," came the disdainful reply from Shino over the radio.

"I really gotta quit doing that," said Kurato with a nervous laugh.

"Wouldn't matter if you did, Shino would still be grumpy," said Itami.

"The mike is still keyed baka!" came the sharp retort, causing both men to jump and quickly make the mike stop transmitting.

They were part of the 3rd recon unit and ironically enough had three vehicles to their patrol group. Or more accurately saying, they were the third recon unit out of twelve such units, but they seemed to have a lot more fun than the other units. If you could count fighting dragons, being accosted by a demi goddess, and having to deal with many strange and utterly bizarre situations. One of the situations that they had not been expecting, despite all of the magic, elves, demi gods, and dragons that they had been exposed to, was this.

The third recon unit came to a halt after taking a particularly sharp turn in the road, hemmed in on either side by trees, because the road was blocked. By two Soviet era jeeps, four Soviet looking soldiers and a Soviet flag stuck into the ground by the jeeps. A man stood between the two jeeps, looking almost like he had been waiting for them. He gave a friendly wave.

"Um, sir. Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?" asked Kurato.

"No, we're exploring. Can't take a wrong turn when you're exploring," responded Itami glibly.

"What should we do?"

"Say hello I guess," said Itami getting out of the Toyota high mobility vehicle.

"What are you doing Itami?" sputtered Kurato.

"Talking. If they kill me make sure to avenge me," said Itami with an apathetic wave of his hand.

The man facing him was dressed in outdated Soviet military fatigues and armed with a Kalashnikov rifle currently slung over his shoulder, much the way that Itami had his Type 64 slung over his.

"Hi, how are you?" asked Itami, not really expecting much of an answer.

"I am well, thank you for asking."

Itami's jaw nearly hit the floor. The young officer in front of him had just answered him in fluent Japanese, though very proper Japanese. If things could get any weirder it would be hard to imagine it.

"So, uh, what are you guys doing out here?" asked Itami rather lamely.

"Same as you I assume. Acting as a reconnaissance force for our respective military's. You are of the Japan Ground Self Defense Forces are you not?"

"Yeah, I'm Lieutenant First Class Itami Youji with the JGSDF, fifth Division. Who are you?"

"I am Senior Lieutenant Feliks Volkin, 33rd Motor Rifle Division, First Gate Army, Second Shock Army Group of the Red Army, Soviet Union."

"Soviet Union? Didn't you guys break up?" asked Itami perplexed that not only were there more people here, but soldiers from a communist regime that had broken up more than thirty years ago.

"Not to the best of my knowledge we haven't. I must admit that it is a rather large surprise for us to meet you here. We had assumed that we were the only ones with access to this region."

"Same here. So uh, this is going to sound really odd but what year is it where you guys come from?"

"1967 AD, yourself?"

"2024 CE. Basically the same as AD, just changed the labeling system to be politically correct."

"I see. I will be honest with you Lieutenant I am unsure of how to proceed. I was ordered to make contact, but beyond that I have not received any other orders."

"Same here. Kinda weird huh? So are we from different time lines or are we from the past and future?"

"I do not know. Did Turkey ever secede from the Soviet Union?"

"Turkey wasn't ever part of the Soviet Union."

"Different time lines then I presume. Am I to assume that you wish to pass down this road?"

It seemed odd the ease in which Itami could converse with the Soviet officer in things that would have boggled the mind only a month ago. But now with everything that had been going from dragons to magic and physics defying gates, this seemed par for the course. It did make him wonder though if there were other gates besides the ones that they had found and used, if there were things that would push the JGSDF aside as easily as they had pushed the Empire aside. It was a sobering thought, but one for a different time.

"Yes, but will I run into any other Soviet's going this way?"

"Not unless you travel for several hundred nautical miles. will I run into any other Japanese units heading down the way you came?"

"Only if you go about another two hundred or so kilometers down the road. It'll be a big hill, lots of soldiers, can't miss it."

"I see. Would it happen to be at a place called Alnus hill?"

"It would be, yeah."

"Then may I request for me and my men to follow you back and...greet your commanders. Is that the proper word? Greet?"

"Yeah it works, saying hi, introducing yourself, surrender and accept communism or be destroyed all work well," said Itami.

"That is a joke, correct? I have not spoken Japanese in a long time and I am concerned that I may have misheard you."

"Yeah, it was joke sorry. Making first contact between people was never my strong suit."

"Neither was it mine, however, our current orders have made it a necessity to become quite adept in that regard."

"It has. I suppose that you could, obviously you wouldn't be able to bring your weapons in with you and we'd have to document you and all that bureaucratic nonsense."

"I see. That would not be an issue. I thank you for your...cooperation? Compliance?"

"More just being polite," said Itami to the young Soviet officer. The man was about as tall as Itami was, but he looked more fit and his dark red hair was trimmed neatly to standard, while Itami's was a bit more unruly under his helmet. "Is this all of your men?" asked Itami, looking at the two jeeps loaded with gear.

"All of my men are present, yes."

"With Respect Lieutenant Volkin, you really didn't answer my question." Itami didn't like the way that the Soviet smiled. He looked off to the sides of the road and gave a few quick commands in Russian.

In total, four RPG teams came out of concealment, their faces painted and pieces of foliage stuck to them. There was some alarm amongst the rest of the third recon unit and the .50 atop the LAV turned towards a pair of the teams, which in turn led to all of the RPG teams to aim their rockets at the LAV, until a command from Itami made the gunner relax, and a command from Volkin for the RPG teams to do the same.

"A precaution I assure you, in case that you had been less than friendly," assued Volkin.

"The blast from those RPGs would have killed you too you know."

"Most likely, I had not expected you to drive up so close to us."

"Didn't really plan on it, mostly just worked out in my favor," answered Itami truthfully. "So how wou-"

"Itami, what the hell is going on!" came an angry voice as a short statured woman came marching up to where the two officers were talking. "You just get out of your vehicle and start doing whatever you damn well please don't you? And who is this?" demanded Shino, looking at the Soviet officer suspiciously.

"Well Shino, this is First Lieutenant Volkin of the Soviet Red Army, and these are his men," said Itami, trying to defuse the bomb known as Sergeant First Class Shino Kuribayashi.

"And you went to talk to him without having someone report back to Alnus or letting us know what you were doing right? Baka," said Shino Derisively.

"Forgive my ignorance of Japanese military ranks, but you are a sergeant correct?" asked the Soviet Lieutenant.

"Yeah, I am," said Shino surprised that the man could speak Japanese.

"Then is it common in the Japanese military for an NCO to act without orders, call their officer by name, disrespect, belittle, and deride their officer in front of another officer whom you know nothing of and little about, or is it just you that does it?" asked Volkin, obviously irritated, if not downright furious at the Sergeant First Class.

"Yeah, well, who the hell are you?" demanded Shino, unable to come up with a better retort at the moment.

"I am an officer, having a discussion with another officer of a different country and military for the first time, which also makes me an ambassador for the moment. One in which, you have just offended with your impertinent attitude and poor military discipline, possibly jeopardizing relations. You deride your officer for going in without a plan, yet he approached alone and in a calm and neutral fashion with his weapon out of reach. You on the other hand approached with your rifle in hand, obviously angry, and with even less thought than you accuse your superior of. What if I had taken your coming up here as an aggressive act and it led to bloodshed? Would your officer still be the idiot, or would it now be you? Sergeant? Now, I do believe you owe your officer an apology for your outburst? Or is this simply how it is done in the Japanese Self Defense Forces?"

Shino's teeth were grinding against each other in her anger, but it was Itami who ended up saving face for the First Sergeant.

"Kuribayashi, get on the radio and let Alnus know that we're coming with some unexpected guests."

"Yes sir," said Shino stiffly, coming to attention, saluting, and then practically marching back to her vehicle.

"I do apologize for disciplining your me-soldiers, but in the Soviet military we do not tolerate such things in the slightest. I apologize if I have overstepped," said Volkin.

"It's alright, she just doesn't like me because I'm an otaku," said Itami dismissively.

"I'm sorry? An otaku? I am not familiar with the term."

"Oh well," said Itami going into a long explanation of what an Otaku was, what anime was, doujin, manga, yandere, yuri, loli, gundams, and nearly every other subject for which he was known for having a passion for, at the end of which he realized that the Soviet Lieutenant did not share his enthusiasm for it.

"I...see," was all Volkin said. In his own private thoughts though, he no longer condemned America for dropping nuclear weapons upon Japan, now wishing they had finished to job to prevent what had just been described to him from ever existing.

--

Feliks had elected to ride in the same vehicle as the Lieutenant, with the three UAZ jeeps to follow closely behind. They contained all of his old section and two other drivers assigned to him, save for Boris. Boris was now in Command of the heavier vehicles of the patrol group, as well as Luella and Ianthe. They were to follow at a discreet distance, following once it was dark so that the Japanese would have less chance of noticing them. They would keep Camp Zhukov appraised of everything that was going on as it happened. Boris had been disagreeable about not going along, but more than relieved that Luella wouldn't be part of the group the group with Feliks.

Feliks had taken a gamble that the trucks had not been of this world, making Luella's skills as an interpreter rather moot and Feliks given a windfall that they had run into the Japanese. It had been one of the languages he had been forced to learn as part of his training to be a GRU spetsnaz. He had been taught to innovate, adapt, and overcome in his training and he felt that he was doing remarkably well in that regard, however, there was one thing he couldn't quite comprehend. The trio of girls in the larger truck, one of which had blue hair, another was an elf in blue jeans, and the third was something that Feliks had no fucking clue what she was other than some kind of freak. Said freak also kept staring at him and she was squirming with pleasure. The way that she was looking at him was also rather unsettling since she looked like a teenager.

"May I ask why you are doing...that?" asked Feliks, no longer able to keep silent on the matter. Instead of answering right away, the girl smiled and Feliks had to blink as he thought he saw her lipstick change from red to a dark purple. A trick of the light perhaps? She leaned in close to him, uncomfortably so, before she spoke.

"You reek of death, and it's wonderful."

There were few words that could have disturbed Feliks quite so much as he was now, and those ones coming from the girl dressed in some odd maids outfit had done the trick.

"I...see. I am glad that you are pleased by that fact," said Feliks, then feeling revulsion as the girl put a hand on his leg which he forcefully removed. "But I must ask that you not touch me," added Feliks, a touch of anger in his voice, an old persona he's long thought buried rising up to the fore.

"And if I don't?" asked the girl, a smile on her face, but one that was not good natured in the slightest.

--

"Ianthe, why are you pacing?" asked Luella.

"Mad," was all the mercenary said.

"Why are you mad?"

"Because the lord, lieutenant, whatever you want to call the guy, my employer went off without me. He hired me personally, that means that I'm his sword and shield. It is my duty to defend him with my life and I can't do that when I'm not by his side. My protection ends after the end of my sword," emphasized the mercenary by drawing her mythril sword and holding it away from her body.

"But you weren't hired for that, how can you be his bodyguard?"

"It doesn't matter if he asked for it, Messalonian honor is at stake. Everyone knows that if you personally hire a Messalonian mercenary, no matter their rank, they become your lifeward. I should be as his shadow, only ever a pace behind, never obstructing but always protecting. I should be his shield at his side, the one that takes the blow for him, the one that substitutes my life for his own. I never worried being away from him before because he was always surrounded by his men, protected, but now he had to be so damned STUPID!" vented the mercenary, running her hands roughly through her silver hair, revealing slightly pointed ears.

"Are you half elvish?" asked Luella, half in surprise, half in glee.

"Yeah, my dad plowed an elf and she gave me to him to raise otherwise she'd get kicked out of her damn little treehouse and she couldn't have that. This whole thing, just, argh, GODS FUCK IT!" cursed Ianthe kicking a fallen tree. They had drawn the vehicles into a rough circle to defend against attack for the night and would continue on in the morning.

"I have no honor left, none! I ran from battle, ran for my fucking life because I was scared. Now, the one guy who gave me a chance to regain my honor, so I can look men in the eye with pride went and did like men seem to like to do, and acted so fucking dumb!" Ianthe punctuated her sentence by kicking the fallen tree again. "I should be with him at all times. After this he's not going to be able to take a shit without me being able to tell what he ate for breakfast."

"I'm sure that he'll be fine," said Luella trying to calm the mercenary. "He's still got a lot of his men with him."

"I don't care for 'oh, I'm sure that he'll be fine' or any of that shit. You don't understand Luella. When I ran from battle I was marked. No one from Messalon looks at a deserter, no one acknowledges them. Do you know what they call you when you run from battle in Massalon and break contract? Kenos. It literally means void, as in you are nothing, where you are and what you are is a blank space not worthy of even fucking acknowledgment. I don't exist in Messalon right now and if any other mercenaries from Messalon see me, they'll be obliged to kill me. That was what my fate was when I was trying to drink myself to death in Blenheim, and this guy, an officer, a commander of men offers me a contract. He offered a kenos a contract at three times the gods damned rate a regular free lance goes for. Volkin gave me a way to get my life back. I am the only mercenary working for the Red Army, the only one. If I can make inroads, hell, even a good impression that leads to others getting contracts then it'll be like I never ran and if I can bring glory, or at least keep my employer alive, I get my life back. I get to exist again. My life is tied to his like this," said Ianthe linking the fingers of her hands together. "If he dies I have to die first, I have to otherwise I am worse that a kenos. Heh, can you imagine that? Worse than a Kenos," Ianthe chuckled at that before firing her steel shod foot back into the trunk of the tree again causing splinters to break off.

"I am his fucking sword and shield!" raged the silver haired mercenary again. Luella let the mercenary work out her frustrations before she tried to talk to her again, by which point the mercenary was breathing hard and covered in sweat, the tree thoroughly brutalized.

"The soldiers that Volkin went with looked kinda like his own, but different, like they were from a different land."

"Oh yeah?" answered Ianthe, pacing like a caged beast, still breathing heavy.

"Yes, but there was one oddly dressed girl with a large weapon, like a scythe, or halberd or axe. It was taller than she was whatever it was. The silver haired mercenary stopped midstride as if she had suddenly frozen in place.

"What?" asked Ianthe, not turning her head and sounding as if all emotion had been drained from her.

"There was an oddly dressed girl, kind of like a maid, but with a giant weapon and she looked young," said Luella, timidly, sensing the change in Ianthe's demeanor.

"Was the dress black and red?"

"Um...yes."

"A fucking apostle of Emroy. The god of war, violence, and death. The drinker of blood, the devourer or mens souls, the fucking bringer of woe and destruction and you let Volkin GET INTO A FUCKING CARRIAGE WITH HER!?" Shrieked Ianthe, lifting Luella off the ground by her collar.

"I-I didn't know! I didn't know! Please, you're scaring me."

"I'll do more than scare you, you silly little bitch! Do you know what you've done?! You've fucking killed him! The apostles like finding strong warriors so they can either fuck them, or fucking kill them!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" pleaded Luella weeping openly, extremely afraid of the mercenary. Fire was blazing behind her blue eyes, but after a moment it cooled and she let Luella down.

"I'm sorry Luella, I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. You've never done me harm or been anything other than kind. I can not blame you for ignorance and I forgive you and ask that you do the same for me. Even if your forgiveness finds me in the next life, take care little elf," said Ianthe turning and heading for her dragon, but finding her way blocked by the large man Boris. She attempted to go around him, but he moved to block her again.

"Stand aside, I have no quarrel with you," said Ianthe. When she attempted to move around him again though, he grabbed at her to restrain her. Had she been a gentler woman Ianthe would have been powerless to stop the large man, most likely been thrown over his shoulder and beat her fists futilely against his back in some impotent gesture of defiance. However, Ianthe was not a gentle woman. She had been trained since she could walk how to be a draconian knight and spent countless hours mastering the lance, the sword, the bow, and her own two hands. So when the man tried to grab her, she grabbed him by both shoulders and throwing her hip into it, drove a metal armored knee into his groin, causing the big man to sink down with a gasp before her fist connected to his jaw and laid him flat out on the ground.

With a snap of wings Ianthe was airborne in the night sky, armed and armored in mythril and steel. Prepared to fight an Apostle of Emroy, and likely die.

--

"It's good to see you Field Marshall, but you're a few days early. If I had known you would be here I would have come to greet you personally at the Gate," said Colonel General Alexadrov, saluting and then shaking Konev's hand.

"Yes, I had originally not planned on coming until Friday, but I have recently heard some interesting news about the Gate and decided that it required my immediate attention. Shall we go for a walk?"

"Yes, that wouldn't be a problem sir."

Konev didn't say anything for a while as they walked past rows of barrack blocks, with their entourage of guards, aides, and reporters that numbered as a small army keeping a respectful distance back from them.

The street was wide enough for two tanks to pass each other easily and the barracks were like those that one would find in basic training, long single story buildings capable of holding a hundred men and their equipment. Konev stopped and stared at one, causing the rest of the entourage to stop with them.

"Do you know what this is General?"

"It's a barracks sir, in D-block section four."

"Yes, and do you know who generally lives in a barracks General?" asked Konev turning and facing Alexandrov, hands clasped behind his back.

"Sir, if you wish to berate me please do not beat around the bush."

"Very well then. Soviet Soldiers live in Soviet barracks constructed by Soviets who have used Soviet military funds to make them. This is a military base correct?"

"Yes it is sir."

"And on this military base, every man sent here, from yourself to the simplest laborer was screened in minute detail to be allowed here. We have a file on every man and woman here. We know everything about them. Where they've lived, their financial situation, their family life, what kind of damned whore they would see on the weekend away from their wife. You were chosen based on your skills, history, and personal fortitude. Every detail of what is being done here has been approved by multiple committees on every level. We had a team of the best engineers and architects design the layout of your Camp. Now within this grand undertaking that is the greatest find not only in Soviet History, but human history you personally take in four thousand inhuman beings right into the heart of our operations without any consultation with Moscow. You know nothing about them. What diseases they they have, what their allegiances are, or who the fuck they are," said Konev, his voice a low hiss so that the reporters a few steps away would not hear. Despite his anger though, his face showed none of it. "Explain why."

"It was an act of humanity sir, and a propaganda victory. We liberated slaves from an Imperialistic Empire filled with Bourgeoisie and feudal lords sir. I thought that the drain on resources would be worth the positive image it would create for us. Word of mouth is how word travels here and I believed that it would inspire other uprisings within the Imperial Empire, further weakening them and making the populace more accepting of us. In the Soviet Union and within the Empire we will be seen as liberators and welcomed when we begin to expand with a much lower chance of guerrilla resistance."

"General, you're a smart man, but you didn't consider all of that in the few moments you talked with them when they were literally at your doorstep. You thought of that afterward to rationalize it and tell me to make me go, oh, my, that is a good idea indeed General. Keep up the good work. But I'm not saying that, do you want to know why? Intelligence tells me that the Empire and its people, in general, don't give a damned about these inhuman nomads. None of them are citizens of the Empire, none. In fact this will most likely hurt our image in the eyes of the regular citizen who will see us upsetting their order of life and replace it with our own. They will see it as us taking the inhuman side over theirs, which will most likely make them question if we are human ourselves. In fact General the only ones that will greet this news with open arms and gratitude are more homeless nomads and escaped slaves. All of which. Will. Come. Here."

"I can see your reservations about the whole affair sir," said Alexandrov.

"I have more than reservations General, I have outright hostility towards it. Sure, we can afford to feed some four thousand more mouths and the barracks room they've taken up won't be crippling, but what are you going to do when the next group shows up? How many are you willing to accept General? Another thousand? Another four thousand perhaps? Ten? Twenty thousand perhaps? You've opened a floodgate General, created a goddamned paradise in this world with free lodging, food, security, and protection. No questions asked. If you're a poor nomad discriminated against wouldn't you take up that offer? You could have very well created a mass migration towards this base. We plan on housing some two hundred thousand Soviet Personnel here and another hundred thousand settlers by the end of the year. Which I might add is only five months away. We are investing billions of rubles here for Soviet citizens, not dog men."

"I wouldn't necessarily allow them all entr-"

"Oh? But you would let more in yes? And those that you didn't? They won't go back, they can't. Not when the Empire has seen them as traitors and defectors. You'll get a slum on the outside of your walls. You'll get disease, starvation, pure heart string tugging misery, all in plain view of the cameras. How will you make them move once they're there? This isn't the era of Stalin anymore, we can't just shoot them and bury them like was once the case. Can't send them to the gulag and we can't feed, shelter, and care for all the destitute of this world. Not when we're trying to accomplish something here. As of yet, the Soviet Public sees no difference between them and the Empire. Right now, the citizens of the Union want blood for what happened in Kiev General. More than you've already spilled. I do wonder though, isn't a little odd that so many slaves escaped from a mine all at once? Could it not be possible, that say some of them are actually spies that seek to undermine us? Perhaps attempt to kill you even? Such a feat would be a political victory at best, but it would shake public confidence in what we are doing here, in the safety of this place and that is simply unacceptable. Just because they are primitive, does not mean that they are incapable of subterfuge."

"I understand sir, I do. However, this war is not a test of our military might, it is a test of our benevolence. If unleashed I could be at the Empire's Capital in three days and take it. The question isn't if we can win, but how we will handle our victory. If we turn up our noses imperiously at those who ask for our help, we show that we are no better than those who enslaved and abused them. We would torture them, not through conscious will, but mindless apathy towards their plight. They would die from our disinterest as surely as if we had pushed the blade into their heart. We formed the Soviet Union on the principles of liberating the working class, the people from their masters so they could have a better life. If we abandon that idea, if we abandon our guiding principle, because it is no longer expedient in our desires, then our Union is built on a house of cards that will surely collapse."

"This isn't a matter of principal and I may have lied when I said that we can't simply shoot them. We control the media, the statements, and who travels in and out of here. If we deem it appropriate, we will dig a pit and fill it with bodies, because like I said General, this isn't about principal. It's about reults."

"With respect sir it is. We can have the greatest intentions and desires, but it is our actions that will determine who we are. Who will believe us when we say that we're finally ready to help after we've already let potentially thousands die? There can be no half measures sir, it's failed every time that we've tried it. There are two ways to conquer and occupy sir and both will work so long as you see it through to the end. If you want them to obey out of love and respect, we must provide for each and every one of them that arrives. They will love us for it. Their children will be taught the Soviet way and we will expand through conversion of the local populace. To do this, we must be fair, kind, and benevolent. We must be understanding of their mistakes and initial resistance, using a feathers touch where we would be tempted to use a hammer. Fight only when necessary, and not an iota more. The other way sir, is to have them fear us so much that they never dare to even look at us. If one of our patrols is attacked near a village, we burn that village to the ground. If a lord sends an army after us, we kill every single man of his army and then the lord and his entire blood line. A mob gathers to protest against us, we kill them all. If an ethnic group will always oppose us, eradicate it until it can no longer do so. Both methods will work so long as you are consistent. I will say right now sir, that I will do everything in my power to have the Soviet Union succeed in its goals here, but if the second option is chosen I may very well find myself forced to resign."

"You may very well be replaced before that General. You are not indispensable to us, no one is. You have made a lot of very powerful men very unhappy, myself included, the only thing being is that you have made an equal number in the Politburo quite happy with your actions. The reporters with me will now, instead of documenting the strength of our defenses, will instead be documenting how generous and caring our Union is to the people of this new world. Which means that in ten minutes when they start asking you questions about how everything is going, you will smile, be cordial, and say how it was your patriotic duty to help those in need."

"Are you telling me that I dodged a bullet then sir?"

"No Alexandrov. Merely that you received a flesh wound where it should have been fatal. The problem with bullet wounds General, is that they bleed for quite a long time. Sometimes what you survive initially merely kills you later. Now there is another matter that we will discuss more at length in private, your recon team making contact as it were. You will be supplied with the new T-64 and T-72 Main Battle Tanks as well as our new BUK anti air missile defense systems. In addition to this, the 86th Guards Airborne Division will be added to your command with their new Mi-24 hind gunships. Their arrival should be immediate, around 1700 hours for the first contingent."

"I'm honored sir."

"Don't be. This is merely a precaution in case what you happen to go against is more dangerous than first thought. I may not like you at the moment General, but I will give you the tools to succeed before you even need them. You will in total have ten divisions under your command when all have come through General, a full army in its own right. Please understand the significance of what you are being given as an indication of how important your assignment is. We are no longer giving you excess divisions that won't be noticed when taken out of circulation, we are giving you category A troops and even an elite airborne division. These movements will be noticed, there absence brought under scrutiny by our rivals in NATO."

"And what would you like me to do with these top tier divisions sir?"

"Win Alexandrov. I expect, demand that you win, the Politburo demands that you win. As I have said, we will talk more on this later. Now, smile for the cameras, we have to make this look good."

--

AN: Flashback comin..