Author Notes:
A bit of a touch up on a small plot point that was lost in the timeline. Those with keener minds will notice why this is to be the case if they read the prior hints :D
Anyway, do enjoy the chapter and pictures! And don't forget to leave a like and support the story!
https://photos.app.goo.gl/waZgkRa3UQhqKQBi9
https://www.patr-eon.com/Heartbreak117
https://ko-fi.com/heartbreak117/goal?g=0
P.S: Edited by Yovis
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"-ev... Lev... LEV!" The soldier wakes up with a start, only to see his fellow squadmate hovering over his bunk. "Dude, it's no time to sleep! We got a mobilization order! Come, come! We need to assemble, and fast!"
The soldiers hastily grab their equipment, by now the entire garrison is rolled up in a heap of activity as men and materials move to carry out orders from Moscow.
"What the fuck is going on? Is this another drill?" One of them asks while rushing out of the barrack.
"This is not a drill! All soldiers are to board your assigned trucks!" This is shouted on repeat by an officer holding a loudspeaker.
"Move, move! Board the tank!" A tank commander urges his crew as they mount up on their T-35-2 Heavy Assault Tank. Being a multi-turreted design, a T-35 can have 6 to 10 crewmembers, whereas the T-35-2 version has 8. Because this garrison hosts two platoons of T-35s, its tank depot is the busiest part with every single tank being activated.
"Hey, you! Yes, you! Help me attach the field kitchen to the truck! You don't want to go with no brunch later, right!?" To supply the mobilization of the entire fighting force of this military garrison, its attached logistical component has to work double time. Fuel, rations, munitions,... if the logistics stumbles in their preparation, it may prove costly for the rest of the garrison. The last thing anyone needs is to face a political commissar in a private chamber.
Since it's a full mobilization of the garrison on such short notice, it's understandable that they can't immediately set off. Nevertheless, to achieve the best time possible, the garrison leaders opt to send out units in waves at the earliest convenience. The decision is made in part to avoid congesting the garrison itself and also to have the forward elements construct fortifications at their destination before the rest of the garrison can arrive. Due to the pressing timeframe, briefings are conducted on the move with the soldiers and conscripts turning grim or shocked at what they learn.
"A couple of days ago, one of our Army Generals stumbled across a slaughterhouse in Warsaw while on his business trip to Belka. There, he was met with the sight of our fellow Slavs and the Rusviet diaspora being treated worse than livestock by the Polanians. Understandably, our brave General and our Belkan friends joined forces to rescue these civilians. In a bid to silence the witnesses to their wrongdoings, the Polanians mobilized their military to carve a bloody path, seeking to kill our General, the Belkans, and the innocent civilians in one go. They were aiming to eliminate the witnesses and to twist the truth. Fortunately for our General and his allies, they were able to fight their way out of Warsaw with the express aid from the Belkan Reich Air Force. Nevertheless, the situation has developed to the point that a new war is right on the horizon, soldiers! For these uncouth Polanians to harm many of our compatriots has touched the bottom line of Moscow and Comrade Stalin! As of now, a mobilization order is in effect for all garrisons bordering Polania. We will be assembling on the very border to either make the Polanians cower, and I sure hope this will be the case, or beat them into submission. It's about damn time we get a chance to finish what those before us weren't been able to, men!"
"Urrah! Urrah! Urrah!"
As the briefing on the back of military trucks concludes, soldiers and conscripts alike are righteously feeling indignant and emboldened to shout some premature battle cries. Most of these troopers are trained, yes, but they haven't seen real combat. Only the veterans attached to these units know what to expect and are showing grim faces as they check their equipment one last time. The young blood though, is excited to finally get a chance to show off against their scummy neighbor. Many of them can't help but fantasize about the valor in battle or committing glorious service to their homeland. Being indoctrinated thoroughly, these young men think that Rusviet can just steamroll whatever resistance the Polanians may put up thanks to their new machine of war, namely the T-28 and T-35 tanks.
When faced with lumbering behemoths carrying numerous cannons and machine guns, even Gods will run in fear of the might of man, right?
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"Well, this is both fascinating and worrying." Quellec says while putting down a correspondence from the Kremlin. "It appears we will have to install another production line in response to what happened in Warsaw."
As the Section Head for ONI Section Two, former Captain Quellec has fully embraced his role as an undercover agent, working day and night not just to run Belka's wide-reaching foreign intelligence network but also to integrate himself into the Rusviet Union. Thanks to the aid of his subordinate and friend, the night elf Rusk, Quellec has successfully installed himself in the arms industry of Rusviet. In fact, his factory complex in Ural has since been renowned in the Rusviet military world, especially after the formal adoption of the T-28 and T-35 series of multi-turreted tanks.
By employing the modern know-how of the Reich, Quellec gains the trust of the Rusviet Union by first selling them new small arms and ultimately heavy armaments. Everything his factories in Ural offer is most certainly a cut above the rest of the outdated Rusviet equipment, making it so that Quellec can be successful even with the notorious Rusviet bureaucracy trying to hamper his meteoric rise. Unsurprisingly, with the hidden backer that is the Reich behind him, Quellec wins many contracts, even pushing the renowned Mikhail Koshkin to the wayside. Though Koshkin's design for a tank called T-34 shows promise to this day, Quellec managed to have his T-28 and T-35 designs accepted into mass production due to their outstanding firepower and modularity. Nevertheless, Koshkin's T-34 is being considered to also be accepted due to its low cost. This is something that Belka will not allow and there are plans already in effect to put Koshkin out of favor for good. The man's days are numbered, it's just that he doesn't know it.
Regardless, now is not the time to ponder about the Rusviet designer's fate. Per the orders from the Kremlin, Quellec needs to ramp up production for his Ural factory complex. The sudden notice would have stumped the man with how much the Union demands he increases his output. Fortunately for Quellec though, he has made a few powerful friends in Moscow. If need be, he can rope in other military factories to produce what he desires to meet the quota of the Rusviet military HQ. Production of spare parts and munitions can be outsourced to these external factories, leaving the Ural complex to manufacture more tanks and heavy equipment. The best part is that Quellec can keep everything reasonably priced for the Union by doing this. On the off chance that these military factories refuse to work for cheap, Quellec can have these powerful friends breathing down their necks.
His co-conspirator, Rusk, twirls a pen while idling about on one of the couches in Quellec's office. "Hoh? Why should we be worried? From what I can see, this is our chance to integrate ourselves even closer into the upper echelon of this nation. War is a lucrative business, and with how we will prove ourselves to be dependable even on such short notice, the Union will have no choice but to heed our advice in the future."
Quellec nods. "Yes, it's a good opportunity to make Ural indispensable for the foreseeable future. Nevertheless, the Polanian situation will force us to change a lot of our long-term plans. Instead of developing steadily, we will have to speedrun everything, meaning more risks for all of us. Because we will be expanding our production, we can't have opportunists using this chance to undermine everything we have built thus far."
Rusk grabs the pen in between her fingers, suggesting with a serious look. "Geez, the Polanians literally poked the big bad bear in its sore spot this time, heh? The simplest solution to resolve our conundrum will be to increase our security measures. However, if we want to go the extra mile, we can convey our fear to guys in the Kremlin. I think the people in the NKVD will be more than happy to pull out any rat that may harm our production capability, just so that they can look good in front of Stalin."
Quellec ponders, seeing the feasibility of such a move with minimal investment. "Then I will leave the matter to you, Rusk. Do convince them with your usual charming Sovetskaya persona, at this point, I won't be surprised if you make the news as a successful woman in the eyes of the Rusviets by the end of this month."
Rusk smirks. "With how influential my persona of Ruskaya Sovetskaya is among the ladies' circle of Rusviet's upper echelon, yeah. What about you, boss? What will you be doing other than keeping up your persona?"
"Since our Section failed to get the most up-to-date information about Polania, I will have to update that country's intelligence network myself. This is such a major failure that it would have had disastrous consequences if not for sheer, dumb luck and grit." Quellec says with a long sigh. "The Marshal has entrusted me with this position, I will not fail her or our nation in this critical time."
"Yikes, boss, you're gonna have your work cut out for ya then. Try to at least get some rest in between to cool off, eh?" Rusk advises.
"No promise, but I will try." Quellec answers.
"Guess that will be the best I can get from you. I will leave you to your work then, boss." Rusk shrugs while closing her eyes. Once more she proceeds to twirl her pen expertly, leaving Quellec to finalise some documents.
Ultimately, the pair will disperse to carry out their tasks. One way or another, they serve the Belkan Reich silently without asking for anything in return, such is the life of an undercover operative.