Unlike…before, I don’t blink and find myself suddenly standing in another city or village under attack.

  No matter how many times I rub my eyes, pinch my skin, or shake my head, I find myself still in the back of the old green truck, somehow moving slower than a turtle shits but bumping as much as an off-road rally car.

  My casualty grimaces with every rock we run over, and I find myself soon leaving the truck bed’s seat and placing my ass next to her right shoulder, her left pushed under the seating to keep her as still as possible.

  Hell of a fucking day.

  I’m not a stranger to combat, not by a long shot.

  But considering I’ve died…uhh…ten times, yeah. I think I deserve some time to fucking destress.

  Seeing as how we’re not slowing down, and Anastasia isn’t quite asleep due to the pain in her side, I figure I might as well talk to her. One of the most valuable tools in warfare is intelligence, and, considering I’m an American in the Soviet Union of Furries or whatever the hell the case may be, properly understanding my situation is necessary.

  Let’s break this down.

  First off, this isn’t a dream. It was one thing to fool myself back on those docks, but it’s evident, based on the pain and…my memories…this isn’t something I’ve made up in my mind. The Furries alone are proof enough for that.

  Ok, so, what is this?

  Well, I am on medication, so that it could be a hallucination, but I highly doubt it would be so realistic and tangible. So, we have to assume the unnatural. I suppose I may have been Jumanji’d into a video game, which would explain the colored lines, symbols, and timer in the sky, as well as how quickly my soldiers can react to my commands.

  That begs the question of whether they’re real or just lines of code. Then again, maybe, like Jumanji, it’s real until I beat the ‘game’. If this really IS a copy of World War Two, then it ends with us in Berlin, assuming history ends up the same way it did in real life.

  Then what? I wake up at home. Am I stuck in this alternate reality?

  Fuck, what if it is an alternate reality? Did I get sucked into a cosmic wormhole? Of all the holes to get sucked through, the kind that strands me…God, that doesn’t even make sense. It doesn’t explain the floating text and video game shit. Or how I’m immortal.

  Gotta say, that’s easily the best part about this. Minus the pain, but at least I live after the fact.

  “Comrade Lieutenant?”

  I snap out of my brainstorm and look down at Anastasia, currently trying to pull her ruined field tunic down over her exposed underbelly. “Yeah, you ok?”

  She nods. “да, I’m just…cold.”

  Shit. “How cold?” I say, unbuttoning my uniform, shrugging it off my—God damn it, of course I’m wearing a cheap ass tank top underneath. Whatever.

  “W-Wait, Comrade Lieutenant, I-I’m fine, I just meant the wind was nippy, you don’t have to take off your clothes!” She stammers out.

  “You could be undergoing shock; you need to be as warm as possible,” I answer, looking around the truck bed. Not a tarp or blanket in sight, and I’m sure as hell not building her a blanket out of ammo crates.

  “It’s not that cold anyway, comrade, I have thick fur, not p-please…”

  I ignore her and sit back down, pressing my side gently against her but carefully avoiding her lower right abdomen, lest I reopen the GSW.

  She goes quite once more, letting the whine of the truck’s engine fill the road. “How long have we been driving?” I ask. She shrugs, quickly wincing and regretting her decision. “About two hours.”

  Well, I suppose it’s fair to say we’ve gone and left the Germans far behind us. I stand up and look over the cab of the truck and see we’ve left the fields and small farms behind. Now we’re met with what appears to be a ridge with some trees and hella fortifications. We pass a sign labelled Mtsensk as it’s in the process of being cut down by a pair of conscripts.

  The trucks pass right through the center of the ridge. As we ride through, I glean the surroundings.

  Unlike the village we torched, Mtsensk appears to actually be well defended and fortified, with trenches, sandbags, MG positions, and even antique tank barriers, buried steel beams sticking out of the dirt, lining some of the roads. A gap between a set just allows our convoy to pass through.

  The defenders all briefly pause what they’re doing, looking up at us, and me…

  Actually…

  All of them are looking at me.

  Conscripts, Engineers, Shock troops, and even a few refugees stop their walking and pause to watch our truck rumble past them.

  Guess they’re not used to a sight like me.

  Now, I’ve never been big on saying ‘I’m the shit’. But, considering a year of my life was spent training to jump out of planes to save people, followed by nine years of doing just that, I’ve gained what many would call a ‘fit body’.

  I’m not shredded, never saw the appeal in it to be honest, but I do have a decent set of abs, combined with some good muscle structure. What matters, though, is what these muscles can do. I can pick up a 300lbs man and run with him, pull myself up from a ledge while wearing full kit, I can drag two unconscious soldiers at once, and not to mention the time I spent diving and parachuting.

  So, I suppose I’m a bit more than just ‘fit’ if I can toot my own horn a little.

  But having all these animalistic eyes on me…You would think they’ve never seen a shirtless man before.

  The trucks descend the ridge and approach a small river with a small stone bridge, a few tents, and another damn flagpole set up just on the other side.

  The trucks pull around the rear of the ‘base,’ and everyone starts to unload. I unlatch the tailgate and step off, looking around and finding a pair of medics, the same ones from the village before, and wave them over. “Hey, I need a stretcher over here!”

  The two men look at me, puzzled no doubt by my appearance, until one of them sees the wolf behind me and nudges the other, who too sees her and finally gets them running over.

  They climb into the back and slide Anastasia over with decent speed, albeit a bit more roughly than I would prefer—

  “Lieutenant Tidman, where are your clothes?” Aw shit.

  I about face to the Colonel, who, despite his low tone, is fuming in the face.

  “I took off my uniform to give the Sergeant warmth to prevent her from going into shock, comrade Colonel—”

  “How long ago?” He interrupts. “Around ten or so minutes, why?” I ask.

  “Durak, you were shirtless the entire way into town?!” He hollers, stomping over to Anastasia. He grabs my uniform and rips it off her, turning and throwing it at me, which I catch. “Put it back on, NOW!”

  Knowing better to shut up when a superior is pissed, and also because I don’t know if dying right now means redoing the previous ‘mission’, I do as he says. “Do you have any idea what month it is?”

  I shrug at Churkin, rebuttoning my jacket. “No, Sir, but what’s that got to do with it?”

  The man seethes, hands twitching. But, instead of reaching for his pistol, he reaches into a side bag and pulls out a dull red book, tossing it at me. I nearly fumble the damn thing, having just gotten my uniform back on. It’s probably not up to code, but fuck it.

  “I’m going to exercise some restraint and assume your class at the Army College was accelerated. Read that book front to back and upside down until you can recite every piece of it word for word, page for page. And do not leave the main camp for any reason unless you are escorted by a man.”

  Colonel Churkin gives me one last death stare, then turns and marches off, cursing under his breath while the soldiers around give him a wide berth.

  What in the fuck was his major malfunction?

  I examine the book in my hands:

  'THE COMMISSAR'S PRIMER FOR SURVIVAL AND BATTLE'

  Well, it’s cool sounding. I suppose.

  Anastasia is carried off to an aid station, the moans of the wounded leaving the tent as they enter. I find myself a stump not currently being used and sit down on it, revelling in the solid, non-vibrating seat.

  I’ve crammed for tests before; this should be no problem. I flip open the book, finding some Politburo garbage, a picture of Marx, Lenin, and the big Jo’ himself on the first few pages, along with some stamps and whatnot, followed by a table of contents.

  -Introduction

  -The Basics

  Maintaining Morale

  Commanding a Small Unit

  Battlefield Awareness

  Logistics and Management

  Dealing with Internal Conflict

  -Infantry

  Squad Types

  Infantry Equipment

  Supporting Infantry

  Upgrading Infantry

  Positioning and cover

  -Vehicles

  Vehicle types

  Logistical

  Unarmored Combat Vehicles

  Armored Cars

  Light Armor

  Medium Armor

  Self-Propelled Guns

  Heavy Tanks

  Artillery

  Anti-Air

  Anti-Tank Weapons

  -Support

  Support Units

  Medical

  Engineering

  Combat Engineers

  Snipers

  -Special

  Special Units

  Strikes

  Aerial Support

  Elite Units

  Spetznaz and NKVD Squads

  -You

  Your Role

  Dealing with Unruly Soldiers

  Dealing with Low Morale

  -Extras

  Jesus Christ alive…

  Embrace the suck, Alex, embrace the suck…

  An introduction for the aspiring Commissar

  If you are reading this, then congratulations, Comrade Commissar! You have been selected as one of the few NKVD officers to defend the Motherland! However, leading your soldiers is no easy task. As such, the NKVD Board of Special Campaigns has devised this book to arm you with the knowledge and tools to complete your tasks and defeat the enemy.

  Maintaining Morale

  Since your objectives will likely involve combat and struggle, you must keep the spirits of your soldiers high. This can be achieved by instilling the Communist Ideals of the Politburo. However, this is not always enough. Unfortunately, the NKVD has come to terms with the fact that the common Red Army Anthropomorphic soldier cannot be kept happy by pure ideals. So, you, being their Commissar and thus their source of motivation, must make sure they are willing to fight when the time arises. Otherwise, they may rout, retreat, or even rise against you. To do this, it is important to speak with them on a personal basis and establish bonds. Unlike a human, the Anthro performs exceptionally better when addressed individually. This effect is compounded when used on species that typically prefer solitude over socialization. Listen to their concerns, needs, and wants. One easy way to keep your soldiers happy is to provide physical affection. The common anthropomorphic soldier is easily satisfied with simple gestures such as hugging, petting, and even scratching behind the ears and back.

  I…

  Are they fucking serious? Headpats?

  Commanding a Small Unit

  The training you received before getting this book will have already taught you all you need to know about commanding a squad, but just in case, here are the most important things to remember. When an enemy is detected, a squad will automatically open fire on the opposing force. That is where their autonomy ends, as they will not seek cover on their own or focus on a certain enemy. This is where you come in. When faced with an enemy, it is important to order the squad into strong cover, then direct them to focus fire on important targets such as machine guns and flamethrowers.

  Battlefield Awareness

  This section is short, but VERY important. When in any situation, especially on the battlefield, it is of the utmost importance to be on the lookout. A MG nest could be hidden in a window, a sniper in a leaning bell tower, a bundle of dynamite in a briefcase. There could even be a anti-tank gun hidden in a shed! When fighting in a unknown environment, do not rush forward blindly unless you possess overwhelming numbers.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Ok, this part seems normal compared to…God, I hope this is just outdated tactics…

  Logistics and Management

  For the most part, you will not have to worry about things such as rations and ammunition unless deep behind enemy lines. Your soldiers will be supplied with all the necessary provisions and supplies they need as deemed. However, larger weapons such as mortars, cannons, and other crew-operated systems will require more attention.

  Yeah, basic stuff. Still, this book is awfully thick for a ‘primer’.

  Dealing with Internal Conflict

  The sad truth is, Commissars must make tough choices. When a soldier has failed to perform their duties, committed treason, or disobeyed an order, it is necessary to choose and administer a punishment. It is very important to remember that the punishment must fit the crime. Executing a soldier who did not clean their rifle is an easy way to start a mutiny, but scolding a soldier who purposely shot another friendly is inviting death into your ranks. For most common failures involving anthropomorphic soldiers, harsh words and aggressive tone can be plenty of punishment. You will rarely need to administer a physical punishment, and even more rarely for something like a summary execution. Anthropomorphic soldiers are fiercely loyal and dedicated to their superiors, especially when said superior is effective in the management of the unit.

  But, at the end of the day, summary executions and scare tactics will work just as well on an Anthro as they will on a human. As long as the objective is accomplished within acceptable losses, use whatever tactic you see fit.

  So, all those commissars really are just draconic assholes who would rather shoot a good soldier than be good leaders.

  I flip over to the next page and find what looks like a blank sheet, but at the top of the page is a name, a photo, and a ‘bar’ that seems a quarter of the way shaded in with pencil.

  BOND FORMED

  Rifle Sergeant Anastasia Gorsky has started forming a bond with you! Current Bond status: Close Comrade.

  Actions until next bond level: 0/3

  Close Comrade:

  This squad leader has grown to view you in a higher light than her soldiers and other superiors. She will follow your orders to the letter, only stopping at suicidal efforts. She will still value the lives of her other comrades, so don't expect her to shoot her friends simply because you asked.

  I reread what little is written.

  Then I reread it again.

  Ok. The words aren’t changing.

  Fuck.

  Well, I suppose that’s another point for the Video Game theory.

  Still, this is good. Having loyal soldiers in my corner is always a positive, especially if they try to charge me with something.

  I flip the ‘bond’ thing over and am met with another wall of text.

  Infantry

  Infantry, at their base, are foot-mobile soldiers. They are the most important part of any force, followed by artillery. The Soviet Union fields millions of foot soldiers to fight for its protection.

  Blah blah blah, I know what infantry is. ‘You’ seems like a better read.

  You

  The following contents are for the eyes of human members of the NKVD. Any person who sees this without the proper authorization is guilty of treason, which is punishable by death.

  Despite your official title, calling you a commissar or even a commanding officer does not truly fit the true meaning of your role, not entirely. Your job is closer to that of a handler regarding the more animalistic workers of the Union. The common Anthro, despite its advanced biology, is still not as advanced as humans. They are one evolutionary step away from their feral cousins. Because of this, they can be dangerous for both you and the enemy.

  Dealing with Unruly Soldiers

  In the event that an anthro soldier becomes hostile or disobedient, it will take a firm hand and action to correct them. This can be done in multiple ways. The first is emotional deception. Studies show that every Anthro has one thing in common, no matter the species: They are naturally inclined to be amicable towards humans. Whether this is because of domestication efforts long ago or due to human technological and intellectual superiority is unknown. However, it is scientifically proven that when presented with a human male, Anthros will generally have a significant mood boost compared to female humans or fellow Anthros. There are times when that may not work, and in that case, you may need to resort to physical punishments. Any injuries they sustain, combat or punitive, are usually nothing to worry about. The Anthro is gifted with a dense and tough body.

  Dealing with Low Morale

  Sometimes, normal physical affection may not be enough for soldiers. There will be times when they seek more intimate comforts, from their peers or humans, such as yourself. As a NKVD Commissar, it is your job to keep these needs in check. This aspect of the Anthro is not well known apart from a few things: They experience heat cycles like their feral counterparts, which can affect them in tense combat scenarios. The time of year is dependent on the species, but most tend to start their ‘estrus’ around the fall months, ending in winter. They will need to satisfy themselves with either special medication or attention from others. However, after spending a certain amount of time under you, they may 'imprint' on you. The more affectionate and commanding you are, the quicker. When this happens, a certain effect will take place, much like that of a lion and its pride. In that scenario, you are the male lion, and everyone underneath you is the lioness. This will eventually lead to having multiple relationships with multiple species and soldiers, much like how rural communities practice Obmen. Fraternization with the enemy is punishable by death, no matter the circumstances. The only case in which this is acceptable is with enemy prisoners of war, and only when granted permission by you or another senior officer who is human.

  Extra

  At some point, it is almost guaranteed that one or more soldiers may become pregnant. Despite issuing contraceptives, there is still a less than zero percent chance a soldier may become pregnant, especially in the heat. If a soldier becomes pregnant, they may request a maternity leave, which you may approve if the conditions deem it acceptable. Due to their rapid biological functions, pregnancy for most species may only last a few months. Some may choose to remain on the frontline, and while not recommended, it is an option, and it is standard practice to have the soldier be given extra rations and placed within a non-combat role.

  Human women in service are not granted this special privilege, and any relations with them beyond professional will result in severe consequences.

  Before engaging in any ‘relationship’ with an Anthro, do keep in mind that any child sired from any member of the Red Army during a time of war will be taken to a state-run child care until one of the parents is either released from duty, or, in the event of both of their deaths, transferred to an orphanage.

  For any other questions or information not covered in this pamphlet, you may request additional info from the NKVD Division of Anthro-Human Affairs.

  I softly close the book, taking a deep breath through my nostrils.

  It would appear that my earlier belief was………

  Maybe ‘better’ was the wrong word. Interesting? Uh. Hmm.

  “What in the God damn…?” I utter, closing the book between my palms and holding it at arm’s reach from my body.

  Dear, fucking, lord.

  “Comrade?”

  I slam the book into my chest and start shoving it into my collar, standing to face the massive chest—er, torso, of Ivana, standing, her rifle held lightly in her right paw, a shovel in her left. “Something the matter?”

  “Nope, nothing. How’s the squad?” I deflect, my skin burning from where the book rests between my tunic and my undershirt.

  Ivana sighs, her small ears swiveling around as she spares a glance behind her, where her squad is just now sitting down around a small campfire. “Better than Rikita’s squad.” Her ears stop and droop slightly.

  “Rikita?” I ask. She turns back to me, a tiny nod. “The other engineer squad. The one in charge of destroying the trucks.”

  Oh.

  I don’t bother apologizing. I know how little an apology is worth firsthand. “Anything to report?”

  Ivana shakes her head. “No, Comrade Lieutenant.” She then sets her rifle down on the stump I was sitting on. “But, Colonel Churkin told me to tell you we are to help with the fortification efforts of Mtsensk.”

  Of course he did. “Ok, did he mention our specific role? Or who am I in charge of?”

  “I saw him talking to another officer and watched the udarnyye voyska with us from the village load into another truck and drive off. But the rest of us and the conscripts are still here, and we haven’t been told otherwise.”

  Four engineers, Doe, and seven conscripts, one of whom is unable to fight or perform any labor. I feel like a 2nd Lieutenant, which, I suppose, I am. Or, whatever the Soviet equivalent of that is.

  That’s either a large squad or a very small platoon. Supposing that they’re under my command, I suppose then it falls to me to act like an officer. Hopefully, the Colonel will appreciate the initiative.

  “Alright, can you round up everyone and have them report?”

  “Konechno.” She walks off, her size belittling her speed. Konechno…wait, why is she speaking Russian and English? Actually, why is everyone torn between Russian and English? It’s not a huge deal, but it’s still weird. ‘One thing at a time’…

  Ivana’s squad leaves the campfire and approaches, each of them staring at me silently while Ivana rounds up the conscripts and Doe.

  I know what furries are, obviously, it’s 2019 for god’s sake, but it’s so…so weird to see an anthropomorphic, or Anthro as the manual says, up in person, and real. The closest thing I can equate it to is a living taxidermy, but even then, that’s not right. Their eyes are human, despite not having the right proportions. They also, you know, have that ‘light’ in their eyes that tells of higher intelligence. The fur is also an oddity, being damn near minuscule on their skin, yet somehow manages to be thick enough to hide any trace of said skin, under a dark, almost oak brown.

  And, I guess they’re all like dogs in a way. Some dogs can ‘smile’ or ‘frown’, whether they mean to or not. But these guys have the full thing. Smiles, frowns, raised eyebrows, grimaces. Even looking around, I see a mouse-girl with an axe and apron, cutting firewood for a large fire with a pot hanging over. Her eyes are narrowed, lips pulled thin around her snout as she hefts her tool and brings it down on the hunk of timber on the ground, splitting it.

  Her tail twitches with the crack and orients itself outward as she bends over to pick up the pieces. That’s another thing; Height. The mouse-girl is around 5’5, maybe 5’6 or so, unless you count her ears, making her 5’8 and a half. It does make sense that height and other characteristics would vary based upon species, but wolverines aren’t inherently BIG. I suppose that must be a ‘game’ thing, or maybe it’s just based on strength? Wolverines are tough fuckers…

  That would coincide with Anastasia’s height and weight. I would guess me and I are around similar heights, with her being maybe fifty pounds heavier due to ‘muscle density’ if the primer was accurate.

  So far, I’ve only seen mammals: Deer, rats, wolves, dogs, sheep, whatever. Maybe the climate changes what species live where? I haven’t seen any Dobermans or German Shepherds on our side, so maybe that’s proof?

  Questions upon questions.

  There’s also the conundrum of predator and prey. Wolves and deer are not buddy-buddy normally, and they have different diets. How the hell does that factor in logistics and unit cohesion?

  “C-Comrade Lieutenant!” A jittery voice breaks my inner thoughts apart like a bunker-buster to a foxhole as Doe approaches from somewhere, no doubt having run as soon as she heard the word I wanted to see her. She has that ‘deathly fear of superiors’ thing going on. Or, maybe she’s just deathly afraid of everything.

  “At ease. I never got your name…?”

  The poor girl goes ramrod straight, which causes the receiver of her radio to fall off and slap her in the back of the thigh, making her flinch, yet she holds her position of attention.

  “Krasnoarmeyets Sofiya Popova! R-R-Radiowoman!” She salutes.

  Sofiya is, somehow, even smaller than the mouse-girl chopping wood over yonder, with her ear tips reaching just over 5’3. I think Bambi would be a better nickname than Doe, getting to see her without worrying about getting shot.

  Like Bambi, she has a black button nose with a dark shade of brown, chocolate fur going from her forehead and back under her cap. The rest of her face is more of a hazelnut, I guess. Never was a big art guy or big on interior decorating, unless I’m building something.

  She has these two tan, maybe cardboard colored splashes of fur around her eyes that highlight her black holes of pupils, with an imperceptible ring of, get this, more brown around it. It’s nearly impossible to see the white of her eyes, however.

  “At ease, Popova.” I give her a small salute of my own, upon which she quickly turns around and starts readjusting her radio set.

  Ivana returns with the rest of the conscripts in tow. There are two wolves, a Malamute, two dog breeds I can't identify, mutts, I suppose, and then a short and some kind of weasel or rodent-ferret thingy. Maybe a mink? “That’s everyone, Comrade Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you, Ivana.”

  I turn to my unit and straighten myself.

  “For those of you who don’t know, I am Lieutenant Alexi Tidman, and, assuming nothing has changed, I am your commanding officer.

  “If any of you have any questions, come to me first. If I cannot answer your question, then I will take it to Colonel Churkin or whoever can answer that question.

  “Seeing as how we have no immediate orders, we will assist in fortifying this town in preparation for a German assault. I did not spot anyone in particular leading the preparations, so while I figure out who IS in charge, you will all be working under Comrade Ivanova. Sofiya, I do not know what our communication situation is, so see if you can find out if we have a signal tent of some kind.”

  “W-We don't, Comrade Lieutenant. The HQ has a radio antenna, but it has the same radio as my pack.”

  Great. “Thank you. In that case, just remain with me in case someone tries to contact us.”

  “Everyone understands?” A collection of nods and “Da’s” go up. “Good. Ivana, round up whatever supplies you need and head on up to the ridge and wait for me. I need to see the Colonel.”

  “Aye.” Ivana uncrosses her thick-ass arms and motions toward the ridge. Everyone except Sofiya stands and starts the short trek toward the bridge and toward the ridge line.

  Finding Churkin isn't too hard. The command tent is the only tent large enough to stand up straight in, and I can hear myself talking loudly from the far end of the camp.

  “…understood. We’ll make do.” I hate that phrase.

  I walk into the open flap and stand at attention, Sofiya mimicking me without shaking her radio for once. “Sir.”

  Churkin turns around, setting down an identical radio receiver to the one Sofiya has. His cap is off and resting on a small table, letting his grey and black hair breathe. Not that there's much there that needs to breathe per se, but still. “Comrade Tidman. I have good news and orders for you.” Aw fuck.

  “The good news is that your earlier lack of restraint has been nullified, as the unit charged with holding the town, soldiers from the 161st Rifle Division, are being reorganized and sent elsewhere.”

  “We’re losing troops?” I ask, letting my stoic facade slip a little.

  “Yes, troops that saw you without your shirt on right at the start of Razgar, so be thankful they're being moved out.”

  Razgar? What in the everloving fuck does that mean?

  “But, with them gone, that leaves us with little manpower. Which means you will be in charge of managing the defensive preparations.”

  “Sir?” I start.

  He reaches behind him and pulls out the map case, which apparently everyone has, and holds it up to see. Like the others, it’s an aerial photograph of the village and river crossing, from the ridge to the road on the other side of the HQ.

  “We know the Germans will be following the same road once they cross the river, either by repairing the bridge we blew or finding a crossing point. Once they do, they will no doubt come for Mtsensk, and then on to Moscow. But, we will not let that happen.”

  “Ok, so, what are you thinking we should do—Sir?” I tack on.

  Churkin points at me. “That is up to you, Comrade Tidman. General Sobennikov has taken the 161st and added them to the 43rd Army for reserves. That leaves what members of the 284th we have here, and anything we brought with us from the rail station. I have also been called by Lieutenant General Konstantin Rokossovsky to meet and discuss our next orders with the 16th Army.

  I point my thumb out of the tent. “You’re telling me we have a handful of soldiers and some supplies to defend this town from the German invasion of Moscow?”

  Churkin side-eyes me with a critical gaze. “I estimate the Germans will have been delayed from reaching us by about a month, thanks to your efforts. Thirty days of preparation, Comrade, is no small thing. Furthermore, we will be receiving support from the 16th Army with anything they can spare.”

  Ok, well, that’s nice. I hope ‘support’ comes in the form of professional soldiers, or maybe some heavy weapons. I sure as shit wouldn’t say no to armor.

  “Comrade Tidman, while I am thoroughly impressed with how much you made the Fascisti bleed, I am starting to think about your quality as a soldier.”

  “What?” I question.

  Churkin turns to face me, putting his cap on. “While I discuss strategy with General Rokossovsky, I also intend to launch an investigation into you.”

  NKVD and investigation are two things I do not need right now. “But why? I haven’t disobeyed any orders!”

  “No. You’ve done what I have asked, but only after questioning the orders of a high-ranking officer, and the way you act is not only unprofessional, but I fear may be damaging to morale in the long term. But, seeing as how stretched thin we are, I cannot afford to charge you, nor investigate you immediately. Thusly, you will either fix yourself, or you may find yourself in a court martial.” I open my mouth, but am stopped by the whine of brakes outside.

  Churkin steps around me, taking his map case with him. “I will return in a few weeks. I expect to find substantial progress in the defences, and the discipline of the troops, as well as their superior.”

  I follow him out, watching him approach the cab of a truck with a few boxes in the back. He opens the door and climbs in with a human driver. He looks out the windowless door and gives me one last glare. “I’m a fool for leaving you here alone without any human supervision, but when you do fuck up, or when one of them fucks you, it’ll make it easier to charge you and have you gone.”

  He slaps the side of the door, causing the driver to pull the vehicle out of the now barren camp. Only a few soldiers, the rabbit girl, and two medics from the town are left around.

  I run one of my hands, the crusty blood mingling with my curly hair under my cap.

  “I am sooooo fucked…”