| Author | Message | ||
     Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 435 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 9 Field Marshal Ivan Nikitin hated midnight meetings. It was never a good sign when an aide awakened you from your bed to tell you that the Primer would be expecting you in thirty minutes. When he first became a general, god almost thirty years ago, he hadn’t minded it so much, but now that he was older his body and mind couldn’t take the lack of sleep and metal exhaustion that these meetings caused. But he was the commander of the Moscow Military District and had no choice but to be there. His black government issue AbtomHab [1] speed along the dark roads outside of the Soviet Capital. The car turned sharply and moved slowly down a straight two line road. This was Putin’s favorite place to meet when he was visiting outside the capitol and wanted to avoid the trip into the busy city. The car came to a dead stop and his door was opened. He stepped out of the car and watched as his aide was taken from the driver’s seat and one of Putin’s guards took his place behind the car’s wheels. The car speed of to the underground parking lot. Not a word was exchanged. It was normal protocol. No one asked for papers or identification. No one said anything when Nikitin started to walk up a foot path to the above ground bunker-conference room. The bunker was a low, half-submerged, windowless, concrete structure. Gray and overgrown with vines, it was a relic of Second Great German War. It had been originally built by Field Marshal Tukhachevsky as a military HQ, so as to have a place to meet away from heavily bombed Moscow. Following Russia’s victory and Tukhachevsky’s election he had kept it as his main military HQ. Every since then it had been the semi-official Primer’s retreat. Ivan walked past two huge, muscular Siberian security guards as he entered the bunker. Their Mongolian faces cold as stone, AK-88s at their side. After the security guard/drivers that had taken his car, these men were the end of the Primer’s security. The inside of the bunker had been carpeted recently with oriental rugs and the walls’ gray surfaces had been covered in plasma screens. It had a weird modern fell mixed with nostalgia for wars long since won or lost. Putin sat with four other government officials (three ministers and one sub-minister, he knew by their suit-like-uniforms) at a long, beat up, old wooden table. They were all in a huddle talking quietly. It won’t have been odd except the room was empty besides them. Putin immediately noticed him. “Comrade Field Marshal, have a seat,” he motioned to a chair near the head of the table. Ivan quickly seat and recognized one of the man Putin had been talking to as Defense Minister Kovalenko. A young man at around forty, he was always fighting the military officers, many of them twice his age. For a man who had never been more then a sergeant he presumed to know a lot about the military. “Ivan,” Putin leaned up to him. “Poland was moved four divisions to our border. Odd planes have been making over flights on our western border. Over the last week and a half there was been a flood of Poles over our border, it stopped three days ago. The Poles are entrenching troops along their border with us. Border patrols of been fired upon by Poles…” Kovalenko spoke up, “The Mongols on our eastern border have also began massing troops on our borders. Missiles resembling our Lenin Is [2] have prepared to fire. They could strike at Moscow in as little as five minutes.” Ivan quickly responded with a torrent of questions, “I see the gravity of this situation. Have you talked with Nazarov [3]? How many divisions does the army have that can be relocated? What are the Imperialists doing?” “Nazarov had a heart attack two nights ago,” Putin said with a look of dismay on his face, “but he is recovering.” Kovalenko looked at a little piece of paper he pulled from his uniform pocked and in his usually cool manner continued on, “We have six spare divisions being redeployed: two to the Polish border and four to the Kazan border. We also have one airborne divisions and a independent Spetsnaz battalion, but they are needed in Caucasus at least for two more weeks. Five reservists divisions have been called up and will be ready in about a week.” He stopped for a second and looked up from the paper, directly at Ivan, “The Imperialist have made no border movements but they have been asked to join the Lithuanian Commonwealth.” “I see,” Ivan was already drawing plans in his head. “I suggest,” said Kovalenko, “that we make precision attacks on Kazaria air installations, missiles, and so on. If they try to move across the border we hit their roads and railways. Our planes are superior to anything they have. Our contacts in Warsaw have told us that the Polish army would support a move to over through their current government and replace it with one… more favorable.” “I think that would be rash,” Ivan was shocked; he never thought that even the reactionary Minister of Defense would suggest something these warlike. “And what do you suggest, Comrade Field Marshal,” Kovalenko was cold and drew-out the last two words, as if to remained Ivan that he outranked him. “I suggest,” Ivan went on coolly, ignoring the harshness of Kovalenko’s statement, “that we send diplomatic envies to the Imperialists and the Kazaria, an attack on either one won new would have unforeseen consequences. The diplomatic climate is different then the one we left not so long ago and we cannot afford a wider war with Lithuania, the Mongols, and who ever lays further away, at least not now.” “Poland is a different matter. The government, as we have unfortunately discovered, is counterrevolutionary and should be handled accordingly, but this a world where we cannot attack a nation without greater support. For this reason and this reason alone I think we should dispatch a diplomat to the Lithuanian Commonwealth,” he ended with that remark because it was be far the most extreme then anything that had proposed since the ‘incident’ solely because so little was known of Lithuania. Putin leaned back in his chair, “What do you think Yuri [4]?” Yuri had been silent most of the time, taken in everything said. The mention of his name seemed to startle him, “Well, I think…I can do it. I can make contact with the Lithuanians, Imperialists, and Mongols.” “Then I guess,” Putin looked directly at Ivan Nikitin, “that we can try your plan.” [1] Russian abbreviation of Peoples’ Car [2] Almost like a Scud. [3] Commander of the Ground Forces [4] Yuri Seryogin, Foreign Minister | ||
| Peter David Hall (peter_hall) Registered Member Username: peter_hall Post Number: 172 Registered: 10-2002 |
“Why don’t you say something, you capitalist pig? Why do you let the reactionary traitors flee?” I told you. About as sutble as a kick in the nadgers but nowhere near as effective. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 415 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 8 Private Sergo Mikhailovich Bykov stood beside a dirt dugout by a paved road watching Poles stream into the Soviet Union. One after another they came, carrying a few shoddy bags and suitcases. They had apparently started coming earlier that week and had begun to flood near by Smolensk, his hometown. No one could figure out why so many Poles would wanted to flee. Sergo’s company of reservists had arrived the day before without any clear orders. The captain only told them to be, “Dug in and prepared.” So his unit had dug in and was prepared. Trenches were dug. Sandbags were laid. A heavy laser gun was entrenched around one side of the paved road, behind the line of sandbags. Several dozen men were arranged behind the bags: Talking, smoking, or reading. Not really prepared, but what could you expect from reservists who had been dragged from their lives and families. Sergo walked out of the entrenchments, up the road, and past several Poles eying him nervously. He walked up to the edge of the paved road. Once he got about seven or eight yards from the sandbags the road went from the fresh black pavement to potholed, broken, gray pavement. It was so odd the way the road just changed. The Information Office had announced what the “incident” was just over four days ago. Most people had figured most of it out. It had occurred well over three weeks ago and private shortwave radios could talk with most of the world, and the big non-state owned television and radio stations had even better connections. The government had tried to press them to not release the information, but one of the big satellite stations started accidentally broadcasting some Afghani channel and things couldn’t be held back after that. He took a puff of his cigarette. He started smoking again that morning, after almost five years without a cigarette. His wife would have killed him, but she wasn’t their, and a bullet could kill him just as easily now. It helped him get back in the routine of military life. He took another puff of his cigarette. A speedy black object of in distance caught his eye. It most have been going near seventy miles per hour. It quickly grew large very fast and Sergo realized it was two different vehicles. One was a small black car of a design he never seen before with the words Narody Strzec printed in white on the side. The other was a green-gray truck, it looked over fifty years old, with the Russian words RED ARMY clearly printed on the side. The Polish refugees ran of in all directions, obviously scared. The car pulled across the road and stopped. A short man in a brown uniform with red trim jumped out of the front-passenger side and two big men wearing camouflage and holding AK-47s appeared from the back. Sergo was still staring, smoking his cigarette, as the man in brown stomped up to him with a very angry look on his face. He began to talk in heavily accented Russian, as several dozen, battle ready, fully armed, camouflaged men jumped from green-gray truck. “What do you think your doing? Why are you letting them flee?” The man in brown stared up at Sergo, the facts that Sergo was holding a weapon far superior to any his men had and was at least a foot taller then him seemed not to faze him. Sergo didn’t respond, instead he watched as the men who had come from the truck unloaded a heavy machine gun. The man in brown wasn’t going to take a hint. “Why don’t you say something, you capitalist pig? Why do you let the reactionary traitors flee?” “Why do they want to flee so badly?” Despite the insults he was not going to be rude to this angry little Pole. They where supposed to be allies and friends. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Where is your commander?” Sergo yelled back for Captain Kyznetsov. He most have heard the noise and already been coming, because he was their in seconds. Once the Captain arrived he quietly slipped away. The conversion most no have goon well because before long the Captain was walking back shaking his head. As they had been talking the men from the green-gray truck began to dig trenches on either side of the rode, with heavy gun entrenchments pointing both towards the Soviet Union and back the way they had came. The two sets of trenches were less then twenty yards apart and both had guns pointing at each other. What strange allies Sergo thought. Before two long a group of Poles tried to cross, but were turned back as gun point by the men from the green-gray truck. What a strange peoples’ government thought Sergo. | ||
| Peter David Hall (peter_hall) Registered Member Username: peter_hall Post Number: 160 Registered: 10-2002 |
"Also, once the USSR realizes what it got itself into it will revoke its alliance." I thought they might, I was just a bit surprised the Soviets didn't twig what sort of place Communist Poland was straight away. The Polish Central Committee don't seem like a particularly sutble or imaginative bunch. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 407 Registered: 08-2002 |
Peter: In it is mind all states that claim to be "Socialist" or "Communist" are “advanced democracies.” Since in their TL all Marxists are what we would consider Social Democrats, and Stalinism never was, the idea of a “Socialists” state of being a dictatorship is just not imaginable, since that is not what Marx had in mind. Why didn’t the Soviets check Poland out ahead of time? Poland and the USSR use the same Marxist lingo, the fact they mean two different things doesn’t come to them. The USSR comes from a world where large parts of the world still hate and fear them and now finds itself thrown in a world 1000 time worse. A friend, any friend, would be grabbed with two hands, with the minimum of research. P.S. Also, once the USSR realizes what it got itself into it will revoke its alliance. | ||
| Peter David Hall (peter_hall) Registered Member Username: peter_hall Post Number: 158 Registered: 10-2002 |
Nice to see a new chapter of RL but isn't this USSR a rather advanced democracy? If so why would it want to ally itself with Communist Poland which is a fairly nasty Stalinist police state? They wouldn't seem to have much in common apart from socialism. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 406 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 7 Deep below the Kremlin’s Spire, in bomb proof rooms some several hundred feet below the ground, the secrecy that had always characterized Red Army planning had been taken to the extreme. The carefully selected leaders of the Armed Forces had to pass through enough bolted doors, secure elevators, and check points, not to mention the army of guards, that it could take hours, on a good day, to get to the war room deep below the Russian earth. It was the final stage of this lengthy process that Defense Minister Kovalenko, in many respects the second man of the Soviet Union, had finally finished. He walked past the twelfth, and final man, to check his identity papers, down a hall and into a massive map room which was the center for Red Army Operations. The room was a standard large conference room. The room didn’t have walls so much as it did TV screens with pictures of various parts of the world, almost all where territory that had been Soviet, on them. A large wooden table, covered in papers, was the center of the room. It was surrounded by old man with as many metals and stripes as any Czarist General of the generations long since passed. As the Defense Minister walked towards the table he heard the Primer’s voice, “Comrade Defense Minister, nice of you to join us,” Putin’s always had a composed, deeply controlled voice, never allowing himself to loss power over it. He walked up to one of the empty suits besides one of the Generals, or was he a Field Marshal? it didn’t matter. “Thank you, Comrade Primer. I waited for the newest pictures to come in before I left.” He opened up a vanilla envelope and handed out several large shinny pictures. The pictures circulated around the table, no one seemed to understand what one of them meant, except for Comrade Putin and some of the younger Generals. “Comrade Defense Minister, do you mean to say we took it?” asked Putin. “Yes Comrade Primer, we have taken the oil fields. The Germans tried to destroy them as they retreated, but are men arrived before anything important was damaged.” The picture was passed back to him; he looked it over before he put it away. It was a very good satellite picture of several large intact oil drills. The other pictures were straight forward. One of a Soviet tank columns on its way to Groznyy, several airfields that had been hint by wireless missile or bombers, rows of abandoned foreign looking tanks fleeing from Russian helicopters, and a few of concentrated German infantry shooting it out with Spetsnaz or with one of the tank columns. Defense Minister Kovalenko stood up from his seat and began to talk again, “Comrades, so far we have sent the Germans running in all direction. Groznyy has all but fallen, only isolated pockets of resistance remain and those should be crushed when our tanks arrive. The oilfields have been taken and any tanks and aircraft they have left will be unable to work. He have crushed them like a bug beneath are boat.” The generals sifted in their sets, they had advised against the operation. In the end it had been Kovalenko against the high command, he had won. Putin nodded and began to speak. “Yes, good job Comrade Defense Minister. That oil will go along way. Tell me, what waits on the other side of our new border?” Kovalenko pulled a notepad from his pocket; his wife insisted that he get a computerized one, but he was delaying it. “A Persian Empire controls Azerbaijan and a Hitteat,” Putin quickly corrected him, “Sorry; Hittite Empire controls Turkey.” As Putin processed this Kovalenko asked a question, “Sir, do you want us to seize the Azerbaijan oilfields to?” There was a vague stir among the generals. Putin’s response was quick and decisive, “No. We already have other problems growing as we speak.” The small stir grew. Putin ignored it, “Comrade Defense Minister tell them what you sent my office yesterday.” “Yes, Comrade Primer.” Kovalenko waited a minute for the tension to mount as he slwoly searched for and began to read from his notebook, “Lithuania was increased the number of troops on our border drastically since are alliance with Poland. Kazan has signed a treaty with some Mongoloid Empire and now are ferrying troops within striking distance of Moscow. The Imperialists,” the new Soviet name for the Russian Empire, “have increased their numbers on our border to a whole fifteen divisions. Are an entire army no is only eighteen divisions, with ten deployed to the Caucasus. We currently have eight divisions. That is eight divisions to guard the entire 800 mile border with Kazan, 400 mile border with the Imperialists, who now have deployed fifteen divisions against us, and the 750 mile border with Lithuania. Things are not good gentleman.” | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 251 Registered: 08-2002 |
The Draka will be willing to take all the German colonists and former military they have. They'll protest towards any 'accidents' that seem suspicious but won't push it unless more than a quarter of them are killed and/or if all of the former military personnel have met 'accidents'. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 393 Registered: 08-2002 |
Prisoners will probably be held, but would Draka be willing to take 6,600,000 German Civilian settlers, while the ones that aren't killed. Don't forget that they are Nazis and even though the Soviet Union is different from our TL counterpart, it still had WW2, with its atrocities, even if they where a lot more limited. They come up against Nazi, even if they are civilians, don’t expect that their will not be any civilians killed by “accident”. | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 249 Registered: 08-2002 |
An update: it appears that Elven Wairanna will allow the Mongols to pass through their territory to Kazan, as an alternative to Siberia. Wairanna is also willing to help the Mongols deal with the meltdowns and aging nuclear plants in Kazan with their environmental technologies. BTW, what are the Soviets going to do with the German military and colonists in the Caucasus? I'm thinking that the Draka of Zanzibar will be willing to take them off their hands. | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 241 Registered: 08-2002 |
"Wow, wow don’t get ahead of yourself. Did I say anything ogf the sort" Of course not, just setting forth a hypothetical situation.  Okay, so the Siberians won't have anything to do with the Mongols? Okay, they'll just have to airlift then, unless they can arrange something with the Elves of Wairanna. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 389 Registered: 08-2002 |
"Actually, the Mongols are a large percentage of Buddhists, though there are also portions of Muslims and Christians. Does that change things any?" No, sorry "Even if the USSR were to invade Kazan first?" Wow, wow don’t get ahead of yourself. Did I say anything ogf the sort "Would the Mongols be able to set up an arrangement in which a Soviet attack would allow for the Mongols to use the railroad?” Still no, the Siberians don't want any part with anybody who is not their religion, which is a backward from of Catholicism. "The Mongols in their home timeline had to deal with an independent Siberia that their relations were tense with. I'm sure the Chinggis Khan would try to make sure a similar situation didn't exist on this new world by diplomatic means." The Siberians are happy isolated, it would take Soviet troops marching down the Trans-Siberian to force them to even talk to the Godless Buddhists and Hell bound Mohammedans. | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 240 Registered: 08-2002 |
"No way. Image Iran 20 years ago, times it by 10. Then image it self sufficient. That’s Siberia. It is isolated and religious to the extreme. It would never allow Muslims to use it land for any reasons/" Actually, the Mongols are a large percentage of Buddhists, though there are also portions of Muslims and Christians. Does that change things any? "The Siberians lived under Soviet rule from 1921-1991, they all ready know about them and their atheism and well have no part in any war." Even if the USSR were to invade Kazan first? Would the Mongols be able to set up an arrangement in which a Soviet attack would allow for the Mongols to use the railroad? The Mongols in their home timeline had to deal with an independent Siberia that their relations were tense with. I'm sure the Chinggis Khan would try to make sure a similar situation didn't exist on this new world by diplomatic means. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 385 Registered: 08-2002 |
“Will the Holy and Righteous Republic of Siberia allow the Mongols to use the Trans-Siberian Railroad, or will they have to airlift equipment?” No way. Image Iran 20 years ago, times it by 10. Then image it self sufficient. That’s Siberia. It is isolated and religious to the extreme. It would never allow Muslims to use it land for any reasons/ ”If they have to airlift, once the Mongols learn more about the Soviets, I'm sure they'll try to play the whole 'godless Communists' angle with the Siberians to pressure them to allow use of the railroad.” The Siberians lived under Soviet rule from 1921-1991, they all ready know about them and their atheism and well have no part in any war. “BTW, will the Kazan army allow Mongol investors and businesses into Kazan?” Yeah, as long as they get kickbacks. The Kazany economy is in a terrible state. And was a horrible environmental record. It also several decaying nuclear planets that could be a problem “PS: The Mongols will likely go ahead with cultural exchanges anyway, perhaps hoping the sports at least will catch on.” Go ahead, what ever makes you happy  . | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 239 Registered: 08-2002 |
It sounds like an arrangement the Chinggis Khan of the Mongol Empire will pursue, you can make mention of the Empire's buying of Kazan's government and installing a cousin of the Chinggis Khan as the new Khan if you want. Will the Holy and Righteous Republic of Siberia allow the Mongols to use the Trans-Siberian Railroad, or will they have to airlift equipment? Either way, the Mongols will begin to move soldiers and equipment into Kazan quickly. If they have to airlift, once the Mongols learn more about the Soviets, I'm sure they'll try to play the whole 'godless Communists' angle with the Siberians to pressure them to allow use of the railroad. BTW, will the Kazan army allow Mongol investors and businesses into Kazan? PS: The Mongols will likely go ahead with cultural exchanges anyway, perhaps hoping the sports at least will catch on. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 384 Registered: 08-2002 |
“What if the Chinggis Khan were to offer to station some of his own military forces in Kazan alongside theirs to help defend them against possible attacks by the USSR, which just conquered the Caucasus?” They would agree “Neither the Mongol Empire and, I'm assuming, Kazan had any experience with Nazis so they wouldn't know what threat they were.” No Kazan had no experience with Nazis “Also, how would an offer of cultural exchanges be taken to 'revitalize' Mongol culture in Kazan? It would likely include their common history up to their PODs and festivals that include the three main Mongol sports, archery, horse racing and wrestling.” Since so very few of population remained Mongolian these sports would be as foreign to the locally population (which is overwhelming Russian) as it would be to me or you. It is even more Russian then the current Russia. Because Tatars where the upper-class they merged more with the locals population then if there were a minority in fear of being breed out. | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 238 Registered: 08-2002 |
What if the Chinggis Khan were to offer to station some of his own military forces in Kazan alongside theirs to help defend them against possible attacks by the USSR, which just conquered the Caucasus? Neither the Mongol Empire and, I'm assuming, Kazan had any experience with Nazis so they wouldn't know what threat they were. Also, how would an offer of cultural exchanges be taken to 'revitalize' Mongol culture in Kazan? It would likely include their common history up to their PODs and festivals that include the three main Mongol sports, archery, horse racing and wrestling. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 383 Registered: 08-2002 |
GBW: Yes this is the end to Nazi Caucasus. They no what it is and thier not going to let it survive. Also yes, the Khan's title is basically sold, and it is just that, a title. The army will turn the country over, but it wouldn't give up any authority. | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 236 Registered: 08-2002 |
Nosb: Interesting, is this the end of the Nazi-ruled Caucasus? Conquered by the USSR? Or will this become a drawn out conflict? BTW, I've realized there are two Mongol countries on Mosaic Earth. How will the Khanate of Kazan react to the Mongol Empire? Perhaps the Chinggis Khan might try to buy the government of Kazan and put a relative in charge as the new Khan. Would the Kazan army be receptive to such an offer? | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 382 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 6 Sergeant Dmitriy Leonov braced for landing. He hit the ground and quickly recovered from an instant of shock. He worked quietly and fast, unstrapping himself from his parachute. The only sound was of synthetic straps softly being unhooked. Once he was untangled he flipped on his night vision, the world turned green. After maybe eight seconds Dmitriy and 20 of his comrades where arranged in combat positions and moving forward, Colonel Vladek in the lead. The men moved silently, not even the sound of heavy boats on wet grass could be heard. They stayed low in the open field as they moved in on the target, an airport. The airport was large, good thing his team wasn’t the only one the Defense Ministry sent. As they moved the previously bright airport went black, one of the other teams had gotten to the generator. He thought he heard the faint sound of a human scream, he hoped no else on the other side had. The team fell to the ground and began to crawl as they made it closer to a rear entrance. Lt. Vladek edged to a door, then leaped up and ran towards the wall beside it. The men followed his example and after a couple of seconds they all where pressed hard against the wall. Vladek stepped away, pulled out a smoke grenade and pulled out the pin. He shot a bullet through the door handle and in one powerful kick sent the door flying. The smoke grenade went soaring through the entrance, followed by the burly Lieutenant. Dmitriy was third in and quickly moved through the smoke and found a corner to crouch in. As the Spetsnaz ran in and setup a perimeter, shouts of German got closer and closer. Finally a young man wearing a loose-fitting gray jumpsuit stumbled through the darkness, flashlight and submachine-gun in hand. The flashlight’s beam couldn’t get past the dense smoke. But Dmitriy’s could see the German fine, even if he was an unnaturally green. A silent burst of Dmitriy’s AK-88 shattered the German’s head and he collapsed to the ground. Another German, this one without a flashlight, came running down the hall. Never hearing the bullets that killed his comrade, the 2nd German tripped over the body and fall to the floor with a thud. Another unheard bullet hit the fallen man’s head. He would never get up again. “Move Sergeant, move,” he could hear Vladek in the two-way radio in his ear, speaking almost in a whisper. He did what he was told and stepped over the two crumpled Germans. The halls wear dark and turned sharply into narrow corridors. It would have been easy to get lost if he hadn’t been able to read the German signs that told him which way to go to the control room. He could hear the sounds of door being broken in behind him as rooms where searched. More then once he heard the cry of a dying man. Hopefully they where all German. He finally saw what he was looking for, a sign with the big letters CONTROL ROOM on it. He sat there with his gun trained on the door, waiting for some of his comrades to show. Several of them did within seconds. Visible tired and silently panting, they where thankful for the few moments of rest they got before they carried out their finally task. When enough men gathered around the door, Dimity made the decision. He fixed a grenade to the door and ran to a safe corner with the eight men that had gathered. The explosion was loud, but not deafening like with the older grenades. They stood up and ran towards the whole in the where the door had been. The first thing Dmitriy realized was that room was filled with air-traffic equipment 30-40 years out-of-date. His follow Spetsnaz ran to the bodies of the air traffic controllers that had been knocked down in the blast, checking to see if they were still alive. There was a flash of light and the sound of the splitter of bloody, one of Germans had still been alive. He called Vladek on his two-radio, “I’ve taken the control room.” “I’ll be their in a moment,” Vladek responded. After about a minute Vladek and a small man caring a case came running through the whole in the wall. The small man didn’t need any directions from Vladek. He pulled out a large battery and a small black box with a built in speaker, some dials and switches, and what looked like a small microphone. He connected some wires from the black box to the battery and then nodded to Vladek. He picked up the microphone and began to speak, “Zdrastvooyt–ye Moscow, this is Groznyy. Assault Team E has taken the ‘nest’. I repeat. Assault Team E was taken the ‘nest’. End communiqué.” (Message edited by nosb on September 09, 2003) | ||
| GBW (gbw) Registered Member Username: gbw Post Number: 214 Registered: 08-2002 |
Nosb: Just to let you know, Storskandinavien will likely make a point of offering full diplomatic relations to each country of former Russia. Their own Russia was partitioned after a Great War even more grueling than OTL's and the diplomacy in their old world was focused on making sure they never again had such a huge enemy to their east. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 368 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 5 The Foreign Ministry was quiet today, as it had been the 15 days since the “incident”. Official Diplomat Egor Kuzmin seat at his desk, as usually, with his feet up, fresh coffee in his hand, and that day’s edition of the Moscow Chronicle. Most of the articles had to do with the “incident’ in one way or another. The front page stories were all about either official government press releases, which contradicted each other more so everyday or about the different, and sometime very odd, radio and television stations being picked up all over the nation. As he finished an editorial about Lithuanian radio signals his phone began to ring its annoying, high-pitched ring. “Yes?” he answered slightly annoyed. “Oh, Comrade Primer… Today, I didn’t have any notice... Oh, I see. My staff can be ready in a matter of hours, but…. Poland, I thought we lost them after the “incident”… A Different Poland What do you mean…? Yes, I see, what do we know…? Oh, yes I can be at the airport in a matter of minutes… Yes Comrade Primer, a good day to you to.” Click. The phone went died. He pushed one on his phone. His secretary’s polite voice answered at the other end. “Alisa, I need my bags backed and a car ready to take me to the airport as soon as possible.” He jammed down the phone on its cradle. How could Comrade Primer ask so much of him? ---------- The car pulled to a stop in front of the small government aerodrome, separated from the main airport, but sharing the same runway. Egor stepped outside of the car and walked, bags in hand, to the departure wing of the small building. After going through security, he found his gate, wasn’t that hard there was only four, and sat. He looked at his watch, 10:10. It was going a couple hours, his 7 person staff and someone from the government to brief them would still be awhile. After a couple of minutes members of his staff started to arrive. All of his staff was there within two hours. Egor didn’t hire slackers. At 2:30, a soldier dressed in a colonel’s uniform approached him and his people. “Hello Comrade,” he extended his hand to Egor, who shook it. “I am Colonel Petrov, from the Defense Ministry.” “Nice to meet you Comrade Colonel, I am Official Diplomat Egor Kuzmin,” Egor responded. “If you and your staff would follow me,” the Colonel walked to a door marked Private, unlooked it, and walked in. He and his staff followed. The door had looked like the fake wood that all cheap doors are made of, but when seen from the side it became obvious that it was just a mask for four inches of blast prove steel that made up the real door. The rectangular room they walked into was small, especial for nine people. The room had a table in the middle on the room that made the small room very compact. There was just enough room between the chairs and the walls for someone to squeeze by, but not very comfortably. They all found a seat, except for Petrov how made his way to the front of the table. “Comrades,” he began “we all know of the “incident” that occurred a little over two weeks ago, but what you don’t know is what happened and is happening.” He pushed a button on the bottom of table and a projector descended from the ceiling. A topography map of the USSR was projected on the wall. “Two weeks and a day ago, we lost contact with the outside world.” All of the area outside of central European Russia turned black. “Gradually, expeditions where sent out to discover want had happened, want they found startled them.” The only area that hadn’t been black turned red with the name USSR written on it and a rainbow of colors and a variety of different names appeared around it. “To the North was found a state called the Russian Empire. To the south was found a Nazi German Colony. To the East was found a Mongol State. To the southwest was found some type of Lithuanian Commonwealth.” After about a minute to let this seat in Petrov continued, “From what we can tell, each of these places is from a different world and each one is either hostile to or never heard of the enlightened theories of Marx. There is one state we have been apply spoken to which was not shared this hostile attitude. We have made contact over radio to a Socialist Polish government to our West. They share the same attitudes towards the plight of the workers as we do and are interested in a military compact,” He stopped, obviously thinking over the next thing we was going to say. “We are alone in this new world and it is going to be your job to secure a friend in this hostile word,” his pleasant, almost soothing voice, turned hard with the last sentence. ---------- The plane’s tires squeaked on the pavement of the Warsaw runway. Egor clutched his armrest, he had never gotten used to the landing, no matter how many times he flew. “I guess I’m too old,” he said under his breath. No one heard. His seven men staff and a military envoy had the entire 120 seat plane to themselves. The plane rolled to a stop. The front side door opened and a tall man wearing a red and brown army uniform walked in. He had a huge grin on his face boyish face as he spoke. “Welcome to the enlightened Democratic Peoples Republic of Poland.” ---------- He squirmed in the tight sight; the room was defiantly a poorly made interrogation room. Even if it wasn’t as harsh as the ones that everybody knew where in the Moscow Police Station. The wooden table and chairs was uncomfortable, to say the least. Even more uncomfortable was the cold eyes of the man sitting across the table. He said he was a Soviet Field Marshall. Egor guessed he believed he had no way of knowing otherwise. “Are you saying that Stalin lost the civil war?” the Field Marshall voice sounded like nails on glass. “Yes, Comrade Field Marshall, in my country’s history Kamenev beat the radicals…” and so the conversion went. Neither of them could seem to grasp what the other was saying. After about 30 minutes of talking, neither of them had gotten anywhere. The Field Marshall didn’t what to hear what he was saying. Egor was sure that the Field Marshall thought he was a spy and wouldn’t tell him more then the basic history from his world. We had learned more from that horribly inadequate briefing given to him by Colonel Petrov. Just after he given up learning anything about this new nation, the same smiling Pole that had greeted him on the plane opened the interrogation room’s door. “Hello, Ivan you can go know,” He said addressing the cold little Russian. The Field Marshall, “Ivan”, got up and walked out. “Nice to meet you, Comrade Diplomat Kuzmin. I’m the Polish Minster of Defense Jaagob Valois.I’m sorry about the Field Marshall.” He went on to give me a rundown of their history. They came from a world were Lenin lived a year longer, Stalin was able to sercure his position further and win the civil war, then invade Eastern Europe and sit up puppets in most of it. If course it wasn’t put that way, but that’s what he meant and Egor know it. Valois mind most of remembered what they where their for because he went back to the matter at hand “We can talk more about the past later, today we will talk about the now,” Valois breathed in deep and began again. “My nation was had military movement by an anti-Marxist forces and is… not yet ready to defend its self. We are more then ready to sign a treaty of military alliance and fight with you against any aggression on either of are nations,” he said that with a precision, only that could have need achieved through careful practice. Egor was stunned by the brevity of the Defense Minister’s statement, they situation most be serious. “I’ve the authority from my government to accept or reject any alliance proposal. I will need at least one night to consider your proposal and confer with me staff. ---------- The car pulled over to the curb and a tall, dark figure emerged from the passenger side and huddled over to a small spinning door. The man staggered forward from the dark Warsaw street into the blinding light of the hotel. The man waited for his eyes to adjust and found what he was looking for. A man dressed in a Russian Captain’s military uniform seat in a chair staring up at the ceiling. The Captain heard the steps coming toward him and looked down. He jumped to his feet and gave a stiff salute, “Waiting for orders, Comrade Kuzmin.” “Call all of my staff together,” his eyes were very serious and the Captain didn’t question. ---------- His people where all gathered around in the hotel’s rundown conference room. Their was only three chairs for the nine of them and two where broken. Why had the enlightened government of Poland put him in such a rundown place? No matter, there were more things to worry about. “Sorry to disturb you from your rooms, especially after that flight. But we have important things to discuss. Poland was offered a mutual defense pact, I am going to accept. I will see a representative from Poland tomorrow. I’m going to need someone get the message back to Moscow.” One of his aides raised his hand, “Ok, Peter, you got it, call Moscow. The rest of you get a good night sleep, you all are going to need it.” | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 343 Registered: 08-2002 |
Thanks, not to give anything away but the next will involve a diplomat. | ||
| G. Bone (gbone) Registered Member Username: gbone Post Number: 83 Registered: 10-2002 |
nice installment nosb. I like your shifting amongst the many characters within the Russian military. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 342 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 4 “Team A,” Colonel Vladek pointed towards the 11 men group designated Team A. “You will be the first on the ground and will set up a perimeter here around the airstrip, here.” “Team B,” pointing at another 11 men team. “You are next to land and will secure the air control tower, here. Team C you will be the final one on the ground, but your task is the most difficult. You will storm the Aerodrome and try to silence any mechanics, pilots, soldiers, etc, try to take as many prisoners as possible. The cargo plan should land on the airfield anywhere from 2-3 hours after you do, so make it quick. Finally, all of you remember that this is a reconnaissance mission, no hero shit, you hear me?” “We hear you, Comrade Colonel,” all 33 Spetsnaz men of the 3 Groups responded in unison. “Then lets get the hell out of here,” Vladek said jokingly. Half the men were already out the door before he finished. ----------------------------------------------------------- The P-00 Russian helicopter came in low over the Caucasus Mountains, avoiding any potential enemy raider. The twin large laser machineguns hanging of either side of the choper stopped any over zealous enemy soldier before they could take a pop shot at the bird. The weapons silence and the crews’ night vision were a highly affective combination. Sergeant Dmitriy Leonov sat with his feet of the side of the bird, watching the country disappear behind. Dmitriy had never been to this part of Russia before, but the something about the area still seamed wrong. He watched the gunner move the M-4 laser machinegun move back and forth, looking for any movement. God, how he wished he could carry one into combat, but he would have to make do with his AK–90 until they could figure out how to make lasers small enough to carry. With all the advances in weaponry over the last 20 years, it was hard to believe he still used a weapon that fired hot metal. By the time Dmitriy’s helicopter touched down on the airstrip the two previous teams had already landed and their helicopters had taken of. As he jumped down with the rest of Team C, he flipped on his night vision and looked around. He saw the control tower, and just barley say the last man of Team B as he entered. Team C made its way up the runway to the aerodrome, trying to get their as fast as possible, before any alarms sounded. The building they were going to storm loomed up before him, green in the night vision. As he approached he saw some kind of movement. The unit commander made a sign with his hand. The 11 men hit the black pavement. Dmitriy saw one of the two gray clad army men first. He fired a silenced shot from his AK. A red mist, through the night vision it looked green, but what didn’t, appeared as the man collapsed to the ground. The other tried to ran, but a bullet stopped him. The Spetsnaz got up and ran to the door of the aerodrome. The first man broke down the door. All 11 men ran in and sought cover. Dmitriy ducked behind some kind of large tool case. He looked around the hanger for enemy soldiers. What he saw startled him. The plans were all some model he’d never seen before; half of them had been scarped for pieces, but the disturbing thing was the huge black Iron Cross painted on the planes sides. What the hell…? Before he could finish the thought a bullet hint the tool case. He heard more bullets and, shouts of German? Yes that was German. Knowing 4 languages was required for any normal Spetsnaz, an elite, like him, had to know 6. German was one of his and he understood them perfectly. “Red Guerilla’s,” One yelled. “No, it can’t be. There to well armed,” another one yelled. A beam of light went over his head. Was that a flashlight? Holy shit, these guys don’t even have night vision. He waited for it to pass over his head. He jumped up, put a bullet in the second one’s head, and then went back down. The only sound was the man’s “Oaf,” as the bullet hit its target. The first one didn’t stop talking; he didn’t even hear his friend die! Just after he hit the ground the radio in his ear went off. “Gas masks on, knockout gas [1] coming down.” A grenade flow over Dmitriy, and smoke filled the room. [1] Knockout gas - the term for any of the many Russian chemicals that cause unconsciousness. ----------------------------------------------------------- The captured we’re laid out lake corpses, in niece little rows, like a seen from some hasty morgue. Of course they were only unconsciousness, but if Dmitriy hadn’t been there, he would have been sure they were died. Most of the captured were guards, low-ranking soldiers, some of them were mechanics and some were pilots. In all, 38 men were captured; the highest ranking was a colonel. Vladek walked over to Dmitriy. “At ease Sergeant Leonov,” Colonel Vladek said. “We did a good job in their.” “Yes, Comrade Colonel,” Dmitriy responded, his mind obviously somewhere else. “Comrade, what’s going on? The Crosses on the planes and these soldiers uniforms?” he motioned to the captured soldiers. “I wish I knew, but I don’t,” He exhaled deeply. “My briefing was very vague. I’ve heard rumors though, but none of them seem very…realistic.” As he finished the last word, a big gray Russian cargo plane came in site. Only a mater of minutes until landed. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 341 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 3 Defense Minister Mikhail Kovalenko sat in his office trying to make sense of the reports and messages that his aides put on his desk. - …Stations along Lower Volga picking up announcements in German… - …Patrol planes skirmishing with unknown jets above Northern Russia… - …Contact made with unknown “Communists” in Poland… - …Black Sea Fleet report’s loss of Ukrainian Naval Bases… - …Unknown planes flying west-to-east over Western Border… The More reports that came in the more confusing things got. Air reconnaissance couldn’t determine anything in south and east, besides the fact that the area wasn’t as it should be. And flights over the North were shot out of the sky at an unaffordable rate. Kovalenko’s mind kept slipping back to the previous days meeting and what Nikitin had said, “…another time or another dimension.” Could he possible be right? - Comrade Defense Minister, Comrade Defense Minister. Kovalenko’s train of thought snapped back to the present. - Yes, what is it? - Comrade Defense Minister I just got a report from the Air Ministry. They’ve captured an unknown downed pilot near here, and ask you be present at the questioning. - Now? - Yes, Comrade Defense Minister. A car is waiting. - Oh, very well then. Kovalenko got up from his desk walked to his office door, where the waiting aide helped him with his jacket and, after a muttered word of thanks, he hurried to the awaiting car. Kovalenko stepped out of his car and walked up the steps of the Moscow Police Agency. As he walked through the door into the massive marble interior he came upon Police Lieutenant Frunze. - Good Morning, Comrade Defense Minister, how are you today? - Fine Comrade Lieutenant MA[1], but I’m not here to discuss my health. How is the prisoner? - Fine, well a little bet up. From the crash I mean. - Yes, yes let’s get to the point. What has we tolled you? - He refuses to say anything. - Do you know what kind of plane he was flying? - I say pictures of it and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. - Hmm. Maybe I should have a word with him. - I thought you would. Right this way Comrade Defense Minister. They left the main entrance and went down one of the hallways connected to it. They passed wooden doors and occasionally an intersecting hallway. It was like any other office building Kovalenko had ever been in. They finally come to an oddly placed, heavy metal door, with a small number pad to the side. Frunze scanned his id card, pressed in some numbers, and then scanned his thumb. The door swung open and the two men walked forward into a brightly-light corridor. The corridor’s metal walls and doors were a stark contrast to the plaster and wood of the previous hallway. They passed more doors, metal doors behind which lay cooled metal cells. Interrogation rooms for high risk prisoners. Frunze finally stopped at a door, pulled out a key and unlocked it. They stepped into a small room with chairs against either wall and two doors across from the entrance. Frunze walked to one of the doors, unlocked it, and walked into a room half the size of the previous one. The room had a bolted-down table, a bolted-down chair, were the prisoner sat, and a loose chair across from him. The only other thing in the room was one-way mirror across from the prisoner. Kovalenko sat down in the loose chair and looked over at the prisoner. The man was badly bent up and had been hastily put back together. They stared at each other for a second before Kovalenko began the questioning. - What’s your name, son? No response - Where are you from? Still no response - Talkative aren’t you. - Don’t have much to saw. - So you can speak. Are you going to answer some questions for me now, because if you don’t my friend Frunze here can make things unpleasant for you? The prisoner looked at Frunze, who produced a pare of iron knuckles - So are you going to answer some questions? - Yeah, I guess. - What’s your name? - Vladimir Aleksandrov. - Your Russian? - Were else? - WHEM Alliance. - WHEM Alliance? - Western Hemisphere Alliance. Stop playing games “Vlad”, your Russian is good, but I know your American and I know that what ever caused what happened was your peoples doing. - What are you talking about? I’m Russian! - What is your rank and your unit “Vladimir”? - Captain, 11th Squadron, 1st Regiment, 3rd Air Fleet. - What’s your commander name, Captain? - Kovalenko, Dmitriy Kovalenko. Kovalenko jumped up and hint Vladimir. - I’m sick of your games! Tell me the truth. How is your commander? - What are you talking about? I told you his name is Dmitriy Kovalenko. - You little fucker. How do you know about my brother [2]? Frunze broke in -Comrade Defense Minister! -I’m going to kill you, I’ll shot you myself. -Comrade Defense Minister! Kovalenko pulled out his gun. Frunze knocked it down. - Comrade Defense Minister, you never tolled him your name! [1] Russian abbreviation of Police Office. [2] His brother was killed during the Russo-German War (1938-47) | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 340 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 2 Field Marshal Nikitin looked through Colonel Petrov’s report for the 10th time. He all ways read reports several times while he wanted to present them to Putin, but never this many times. He had thought it was same bad joke, but General Vlasov was no comedian. What the hell could be going on up their. Just as he finished reading the report for the 11th time, Primer Putin’s personal secretary opened the door to the conference room. - Comrade Field Marshal, their ready for you Nikitin nodded, stood up and entered. - Comrade Premier, nice to see you again - Nice to see you too Comrade Field Marshal, please have a seat. Nikitin did so and looked around the table at the other 5 men sitting around him, 2 of which he did not recognize - Comrade Field Marshal, you know Defense Minister Kovalenko and the Commander of the Ground Forces Nazarov. The Commander of the Air Force and the Commander of Fleet, could not be reached, they were both in Leningrad. Comrade Popov is the representative from the Air Ministry and Comrade Ivanov is the 2nd in command of the Fleet. Comrades this is Comrade Field Marshal Nikitin, commander of the Moscow Military District. - Nice to meet you. Let’s get down to business. The expedition I sent at the Defense Ministers request returned with some interesting and confusing information. I have here a report from the expedition’s leader. Nikitin handed to Putin who skimmed through it and then passed it on. - Are you sure about this? It sounds… - Like a joke? I know. That’s what I thought to, but it’s real. - So, in your opinion, what was happened and what caused it? - Comrade Primer, I don’t know. The two logically conclusions I’ve come up with are very… illogical - Well they’re the best we got. So please go on. - While Comrade Primer, I think it most be some new American weapon, that either transported us to another time or another dimension. - So, your telling me that we are no longer in what we conceive to be Earth!? - That’s it exactly. I wish I had a better conclusion, but I don’t. - Comrade Field Marshal, how many Divisions do you have in the Moscow Military Distract and where are they now? - I have 4 MRD [1] and 1 Tank Division in Moscow, 2 MRD in Vladimir, 3 MRD and 2 Tank Divisions in Tula, 2 MRD in Tver, 4 MRD and 1 Tank in Smolensk, 2 Airborne Divisions in Kamenev Training Facility, and 4 MRD and 1 Tank in Kazan. - I’m afraid we have last contact with the Kazan. - Yes, Comrade Defense Minister is right. We haven’t had contact with them in 2 days. - I’m sorry Comrade Defense Minster, Comrade Primer, but were do we have contact? Putin then stood up and went to the wall map in the little room and with his pen draw a circle around the center of European Russia. http://pictures.care2.com/view/2/662833226 [1] Motorized Rifle Division(s) | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 339 Registered: 08-2002 |
Russia Lost Part 1 -Comrade Field Marshal … I know. I’ve tried. The phones are down….Yes, Comrade Field Marshal. I’ve tried that to. The operator can’t do anything about it. I don’t know Comrade Field Marshal, I don’t know. Lt. General Boris Vlasov put the phone back on its cradle and leaned back in his chair. What the hell is going on out their? They had first thought it was a nuclear strike by the Americans, which would explain why the communications were down, but even the secure lines to the missile regiments in Siberia were down. They then thought it was a mass electronic failure, but the backup generators should have allowed communications to at least Fleet Command in Leningrad. They couldn’t figure it out. His secretary knocked on his door “Comrade General. Comrade General, Comrade Colonel Petrov is back from the expedition to Leningrad. Vlasov straightened up in his chair, as Petrov walked in. Petrov was as pale as a ghost. - Comrade Colonel, Your radio communication was hard to understand… are you ok; you look like you’ve seen a ghost. - I don’t know what I saw, I really don’t. -Well, Comrade Field Marshal Nikitin wants to know why we can’t get a hold of Red Fleet Command or the Missile Regiments. -Well, Comrade General I took 5th Armored Brigade to Leningrad like I was ordered, but Comrade General, the roads they weren’t the same as the ones on the map. I’m from Leningrad and have traveled to and from Moscow many times, once I got past about halfway, the roads just ended. - How … want do you mean? - They stopped; like they were never built, soled pavement on from Moscow then it just ends. It’s like someone took a knife and cut a piece of the world of and then put it back in a different place. - Are you telling me theirs no roads in the North!? - No Comrade General, theirs roads, but their not in the right places, we found one easy enough, but then things got really strange. - Go one Comrade Colonel. I have all the time in the world. - Comrade General, We ran into a patrol, except it wasn’t ours. - American? - No, Russian and I do mean Russian, not Soviet - I don’t understand. “Russian, not Soviet” were they counter-revolutionaries? Capitalist rebels! - I don’t know. They had the Old Russian Flag, the Czarist one, the on Peter Romanov created, but they didn’t look like rebels. They were well armed with modern weapons and tanks, not like any I’ve ever seen. - Did you make contact with this patrol? - No Comrade General. They shot at us and we returned fire, I ordered are men to pull back, the patrol didn’t fellow. I didn’t make past ¾ of the way to Leningrad, but I want go back without a good sized army behind me. - Thank you Comrade Colonel for your report, I’m going to pass it on to Comrade Field Marshal Nikitin - If you don’t mind me asking, want is going to happen? - The Field Marshal will talk to Comrade Primer Putin and then determine want to do next. | ||
| Not one step back (nosb) Registered Member Username: nosb Post Number: 338 Registered: 08-2002 |
I don't want to be the only one not posting on the Writer's Forum. So all Mosaic Earth stories are easily able to be read I'll post here from now on. |
