A week had passed since the Rangers took in the refugees. The small little outpost, an extension of a neutral faction on the other side of the Gate, had now transformed into a village. There was a consensus to bring the civilians into the city-state itself, but the Council wouldn't allow it. Unless the refugees were capable of being useful in the caste society of Polis Station, they would have to remain outside. Yet, the main concerns the medical members raised was the possible exchange of unknown and dangerous diseases. Although there was desire to do more, being under the care of the Polis Rangers would be enough to rid them of the dangers of others.

Artyom returned to the camp on his horse following after the men bringing back clothes, belongings, and valuables from their carts stuck in the mud. Thoughts about the previous days came to mind and the concern Colonel Miller had about his encounter with those soldiers. Ever since the thought of being runned down by horsemen was brought up, the commanding officer changed up how patrols and missions were to be conducted in this world. Anyone stationed at this camp would have to undergo horsemanship.

Although the young man didn't know much about it aside from riding such beasts, he had to endure the training… under Uhlman's guidance. Apparently he was used to ride horses before the bombs fell and came from group of people whose culture consisted of riding horses. Sukhoi never actually spoke about it when he was a boy, but perhaps he didn't want to tell a boy foolish lies of sights he'll never see.

The perimeter of the camp consisted of posts and wires planted throughout surrounding area. It also had an addition of cans attached to them as a warning signal for the defenders. Upon bypassing them and entering the camp, three Polis Guards were at their post nodding their heads to him. "It's good to see you back, Artyom." One of the men stated as he rested his arms on the heavy machine gun. "Any trouble?"

The young man shook his head. "Good, I prefer nothing comes at us." The guard stated before ignoring the Ranger and the salvagers entering the camp.

Uhlman's voice was immediately recognized by the mounted Polis Ranger as he made his way over to him. "You're back in one piece. How did the horse riding go?" The veteran said as he stopped the horse and took the reigns. "I was afraid you would lose your lunch out there?"

Confused by the phrase, he began to ask. "Lose my lunch? Was I supposed to bring food out there with me?"

"It's -nevermind about that- I thought you would have puked along the way." He stated. "Mind telling me how it went?"

Taking his helmet off, Artyom relaxed his shoulders thanks to the friendly environment between the refugees and the soldiers of Polis. "Honestly, it's relieving to not have to walk everywhere when you can ride these horses instead."

Then he warned him. "Don't be optimistic about it. You still have much to learn, but more practice riding the horse will help. At some point, I might have to teach you when to ride like the wind in case you need to escape." Uhlman's hand rubbed the horse's head between the eyes. "Now let's get some lunch. Those people made some sort of stew. I don't know what's in it, but it smells good." He lifted his head and sniffed the air before Artyom caught the scent of the aroma coming from the cooks. "Opa, that's smells good."

As the Ranger dismounted the beast, noted two people walking up to him. One of them was clearly a Polis Guard, but the other was a woman. It was someone he recognized from the very night he found those people. "Good afternoon, sir." The guardsman began. "How was the patrol?"

Artyom gave him a slight nod. "Nothing much, which is good thing for me since I don't know how to ride a horse aside from how to steer it while it's walking." Then he glanced over to the woman who lowered her head in his presence.

"Apparently the horse used to belong to her and her husband." He answered.

"How do you understand her?"

"I don't, but Polis had brought a few people from the Arbat Confederation to translate everything. We've only translated a few words in, but it should help break the language barrier."

"Why are you here then?"

"She's helping with the translation. Right now she's taking a break before I show her my watch."

The young woman reached for her neck, only to take off a small silver necklace. She presented the object to him, but Artom couldn't understand why. The stranger gestured for him to take the necklace as he was about to reach for it. Then it triggered an odd memory from before, too similar to this one.

"Looks like she wants you to take it."

He had seen it before, a token of gratitude of those he saved. Unlike his home, this place wasn't his world. Artyom reached towards her hand and folded her fingers to keep the necklace in a grip. There was no need to accept such tokens, for he was no longer a stalker, but a Polis Ranger of the Spartan Order. She had already lost the man she cared for to those men, but taking advantage of her destitution was too far. Simple reasoning came to mind when he truly thought about it, unlike the token of appreciation that he'd received before, that necklace had no value for it was not a cartridge full of military grade rounds. "Could you take this to where they usually belong?"

"It's called a stable." The Polis Guardsman stated. "Didn't Uhlman tell you?"

"I forgot what it was called." It was a simple failing on his part.

"Ladna, I'll let the girl take care of it. You go get a meal."

After departing from the two, Artyom made his way towards the food tent as he bypassed makeshift tents and small huts full of refugees. Some would glance at him with a smile, others with a simple look, but there would be that occasional unfriendly stare. He couldn't blame some of their reactions, they were strange people who were curious about them.

Yesterday, a group of men tried to force their way into the gate and attempt to get to Polis. Some got loose and tried to make a run into the tunnels. Of course, the reply that forced their hands was being gunned down. Such event discouraged the many disparate few who had nothing to do.

Once he arrived at the tent, he found small blankets on the ground with Rangers, Polis Guards, and refugees sitting and eating. His eyes were taken away when he saw Uhlman in line as he waved his hand for his attention. "Artyom, over here! I've saved a spot for you in line."

He quickly accompanied the man as the Polis soldiers said their hellos or nodding their heads towards him. The refugees in line grew confused at his presence, but the new blood paid little attention to them since they wouldn't understand. The man in front of Uhlman stepped out of line with a bowl in one hand along with a strange object on a platter. "What is he carrying?"

The older Ranger chuckled. "Who would have thought I would have to explain this." He said to himself. "That's called bread, we used to have it back before the nuclear bombs fell. You'll like it when you get the chance to eat."

When they stepped forward, they were met with a friendly Polis cook across a table covered with bowls of stew and plates with bread. "Ah, you must be Artyom. I've heard you killed a Librarian at the Moscow State Library. That is not something you hear everyday." Then he glanced over to the food. "Apologies for the lack of an introduction, my name is Kuzmich, I'm your quartermaster whether it's food, ammo, or guns." Then he quickly passed the meals to Artyom and his companion. "The women managed to scrounge up enough to make rabbit stew and had enough flour to make the bread, consider yourselves lucky that they were far more charitable than me."

"What's a rabbit?" Artyom asked. It was an honest question, but he was curious.

The quartermaster smiled in response. "Take my word for it, they taste and are generally healthier than rats. Be lucky that those refugees knew how to hunt those things down."

"Thank you."

"No problem." When Artyom and Uhlman departed from the line, he shouted. "Next!" A loud commotion from his side of the table erupted with women shouting at him in their tongue. "Okay, what the fuck did I do to piss you off?!"

The duo had left the empty spots on the ground for an open space of grass as Uhlman sat down and pulled out his spoon. "All we're missing is some moonshine for this little picnic of ours." He commented before stabbing at his soup. Soon, he began to dig into his meal without restraint.

Artyom placed his bowl on the ground and grabbed the hard, crusty piece known as bread. It was strange to hear the nostalgia of the older Ranger talking about food he never tasted in his life. They spoke of it as if it was the best thing that had ever happened in their lives, but he wondered how it was so special. Then he thought about the words of Khan back at that one tunnel.

Try to have a better understanding of things before you make judgement.

It was one of the few bits of advice he took in seriously. The other pieces didn't appear to have anything useful aside until he would encounter them again. If one wanted to understand food, especially strange food, what better way to learn than to take a bite. He took a small bite out of the bread, feeling its outer crust break under his teeth, but he was soon met with softness inside. As he chewed on his food, the taste seem to stick with him. "This tastes good."

Then he heard Uhlman swallow his spoonful of soup. "Just as expected. Try mixing it with the soup, it'll taste better." He suggested before returning to his meal.

Thoughts about this world came to mind. After living through a peaceful week, the new blood thought about this world and the strange people the Polis Rangers had stumbled upon. He couldn't understand their reactions, but they seemed to be good people. Then he thought about his home back in the Metro. He never truly received the news about the fate of Exhibition. "Uhlman, I have to ask you something."

"Yes?" He said with a mouth full.

"Is there any news of the Metro from Polis?"

"No, but Colonel Miller is going to Polis to get whatever news he can get. Although we have direct access to the core station, it takes some time for news to travel."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Just focus on this world until then. It'll keep your mind from idleness."

The meeting had just begun with the military members on one side of the room while the scientists and the civilian members took their seats across from them. A Council speaker stepped up in his ragged clothing. "Good afternoon, everyone. I won't keep you long, but we are here to discuss the matter of this Gate that has appeared in the western tunnel." Then he looked over to the military members. "Colonel Miller, do you have a report about the situation."

The colonel rose from the ranks of officers and commanders. "Of course. Would you all believe me if I told you what my men and I have discovered on the other side?"

"Please state your report and we'll decide what to do with this." The Council Speaker stated.

"My men and I have discovered another world, one with a surface not affected by nuclear war. However, we have also discovered a civilization you would see in those American movies about fantasy." Miller could see their surprise and disgust from both military and civilian councilmen. "We've also engaged with some outsiders while also taking in refugees from the surrounding area. It appears we stumbled into an area at war."

A man stood up from the civilian side, wearing a radiation suit clad in mustard yellow. "Excuse me for asking, but did you just describe fantasy world?"

"Yes, my men are keeping the peasants from storming their way into Polis while they're under our watch."

"Although we sent a few citizens from the Arbat Confederation and a fraction of our medical staff to assist your Rangers, I'm curious if you've met some form of authorities over there."

The colonel shook his head. "I'm afraid it doesn't look like it. The entire area some of my Rangers have discovered is full of corpses, refugees, or those bandits."

"These bandits, is there any way to describe him?"

"Honestly, they were definitely well-armed. Some of them were armored, perhaps they were deserters. I can't be sure since I don't know crap about them at all."

Then the speaker spoke up. "Brahmin, is that all?"

"Yes." The civilian scientist replied. "I'll let the next person talk."

A bald man in uniform rose up from Miller's side of the room and turned towards him. "Have there been any attacks on your men for the past few days?"

"At the moment, one of my men, a cossack, is teaching the Rangers how to ride horses."

"You could have killed the horses and used them for food." The commander replied. "Why waste the time with that?"

"It's to compensate for our lack of transportation and making sure our troops don't become easy kills for enemy cavalry. One of my men was lucky enough to have an Abzat and a bag of claymores with him." Miller stated. "However, not all of us can carry that kind of firepower as you and I both know."

"That we can agree on. What purpose do you plan to do with your Ranger cavalry?" The Polis Guards Commander asked.

"To extend the range of our recon and perhaps be able to escape from whatever threats we may encounter and report them here." Then he cleared his throat. "There is also the matter that we might find some settlements if the refugees are anything to look at." He also added.

"Thanks for the clarification. Maybe we might find someone to trade with. Funny, it reminds me of old pre-war video game."

The Council Speaker caught everyone's attention. "Yes, yes, we know you used to play Sid Meier games. We don't need to know about that." Then he gestured his hand to Miller. "You may sit down, colonel." When the room was finally in order, the speaker spoke. "Since we've settled the matter about the Gate, this meeting is adjourned. If there is anyone who wishes to speak, do it now." Silence. "This meeting is adjourned."

Author's Note: Well, Artyom finally is learning how to ride a horse. Never thought I would actually be writing that.