Sky over Baghdad, Baathist Iraq
August, 1990
The battles had been fierce, thought First Lieutenant Zuhair Dawood, as he flew his MiG-25 over the suburbs of his hometown, Baghdad. The middle east had remained neutral in the great third war, even Israel and Iran maintained its neutrality staunchly and signed a mutual defense pact with its neighbors against foreign aggression, forming the Middle Eastern Mutual Defense Coalition.
While it served as threat enough to keep both Soviet Union and NATO out of their lands, the aliens from above had proven less than sane in their choice of conflicts, landing a brigade sized force in the middle of the Middle East in Iraq. The other nations, true to their word, leapt to the call to arms, but by the time their forces were organized in any great number, the war had ended with a crushing defeat of the Turians.
Iraq had obviously held its own, the Turians were simply outnumbered too greatly to provide much resistance once the element of surprise wore off. A fitting example would be how Cortez described his experience in the New World. There was simply too many natives for his meagre men to defeat on their own.
And the Turians, in a stroke of strategic idiocy, thought it would be a good idea to invade every single landmass with a division's worth of soldiers.
While it was true they would have still been forced to capitulate to the Turians, thank's to their ability to bomb their cities with impunity. The fact they pissed off both NATO and PACT nations, meant they combined their resources to attack the Turians with a nuclear surprise.
Combined with a little luck and the favor of Allah of course. "Radar Contact, enemy drop ship 20 miles North, altitude 15,000 meters, switching to radar guided missile." Dawood said as he started painting the dropship with the MiG's powerful radar. "Target acquired, requesting permission to fire."
There was the bastard, it was a Turian special forces platoon, having evaded and engaged the Coalition and out foxing them at every turn. But they couldn't escape forever, and while they put up an admirable resistance, it was time to put them down, so they may join their friends in Stuttgart.
"Permission Granted. Ground them." Came the terse reply in barely legible Arabic, with a Hebrew accent. Likely an Israeli. Dawood 'pffted' at the thought.
Replying, "Firing missile one. Impact: 3… 2… 1…. Target still in the air. Firing missile two. Impact: 3… 2…. 1… Target is trailing smoke, losing altitude, firing missile 3. Impact: 3... 2… 1… There we go, Target is going down. Returning to base for rearming."
Just another day in Baathist Iraq.
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August 1990
"I understand what they did was wrong, but are we to follow their example and be monsters like they? No, we are better, we are stronger, and we will prove that by their fair treatment as our prisoners of war. We will show them the meaning of war, and the meaning of humility. Thank you." Dozens of reporters from all channels, nationalities, and creeds were clamouring, demanding Malashenko to answer their questions. His spot was taken by another man, dressed in a suit who tried his best to calm the reporters.
"Nice speech." Parker said as Malashenko entered the backstage. Both of them were fitted into their dress uniforms for the event.
Malashenko may have just risked his career big time with the speech he delivered, but he wanted to look good for it, and with Parker's help he had pulled it off. "Thank you. Now, we just wait for me to be court martialed." Malashenko laughed nervously as they began to leave.
For the entire world, they had seen a decorated officer of the Soviet Union speak out in favor of good treatment of their new prisoners, and while many dismissed it, didn't care, or were blinded by prejudice against him. Many others, especially in the Union, had listened on their radios, seen through their TVs, a man who was fervently and inspirationally speaking in favor of something they were unsure about.
"Captain Malashenko?" A UN dressed officer asked as he intercepted the pair.
"Yes?" The russian replied.
"You've been summoned by the emergency UN council. To speak before them on the matter of the Turians."
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August 1990
"We have nearly 50,000 turian POWs currently cooling their heels in Stuttgart with all the supplies we could scrape together with them, and we estimate that it will only last them for the next 6 months if we really ration out their food." Representative Hayes from the US announced to the assembled delegates of the UN. "We're currently in attempts with their engineers to repurpose their food processors to convert our food to their food, but we have no guarantee it will work. In the meantime we have made it a priority to salvage as many of their stasis pods as we can."
Everyone looked to one another as they wrote down notes. No one had any objections to the plan. "Once we can either get enough stasis pods to buy enough time to get their processors working, or we put them all in the pods, we'll then split up the number of POWs each continent will hold, with Australia taking the majority of 25,000 prisoners. This is to isolate them and make it much more unlikely of them to revolt in case they ever try." The Australian representative looked a bit upset but no one added anything else.
"Thank you Captain Malashenko for your report on the matter. You are dismissed for now. And Please, do try to stay out of trouble." The Soviet representative said kindly to the war hero, who clicked his heels, saluted, then left.
"Next on the agenda is discussion on which countries will take which tasks for researching new technologies." The speaker for the committee, a swiss man by the name of Reinardt, said as he looked through his talking paper.
"The nations of Asia have already agreed upon splitting our attention to manufacturing processes, with Japan vowing to specialize itself on naval warfare and space warfare manufacturing processes. The nations of southeast asia will focus on equipment reliability in hostile environments, with the nations of central asia on armored vehicle techniques. The middle east has vowed to focus on fuel supply for the rest of the continent in the meantime, with Israel promising progress in urban warfare. The nations of oceania have agreed to assist the rest of asia in any way they can as well." The Chinese representative said, with all the other asian and oceania delegates raising no complaints.
"The people of the European Union and the former Warsaw pact nations have all agreed to focus on what we're good at. With Soviet Union taking on the task of producing new rifle and tank designs, the Germans on the engineering challenges we'll face with each planet, Britain on warships, ect." EU speaker Kiffeur explained, handing out his paper of what nations were doing what.
"The nations of Africa will provide the only things we can at the moment, manpower and resources. Our people are eager to assist in any way." The South African delegate explained. The nation currently under a great deal of pressure from just about everyone to remove apartheid.
Finally the US delegate stood up and handed out his papers, "The nations of the Americas have all promised to devote everything we can to the exploration and exploitation of space by any means, clearing the way for colonial efforts for the rest of the nations. The edict which we have called the 4X plan, will include advances in aeronautics, spaceborne activities, spaceborne invasions, Xeno Relations, exploitation of new infantry based equipment for our soldiers, and anything else that could possibly connect with these goals. The four Xs represent: Explore, Expand, Exploit, and Exterminate, if necessary." While their goals were broad and vague, everyone had confidence that the people of the Americas were the ones best equipped to handle the task, for now.
"If you need any personnel for the matter, the USSR would be glad to send over some of our experts." The Soviet delegate said in a show of solidarity to everyone.
The US representative, hesitated a moment before smiling and nodding. "Thank you. I'll be sure to have our people reach out to you for the assistance."
"Now that we all understand what we are to do in the immediate sense, Commissioner Kellovsky, your report on the war?" Reinhardt ordered, with the Russian Commissar gently aligning his papers before standing up.
Carefully setting his glasses atop his nose with shaking arthritic hands, the man looked in his late 70s, "Thank you comrade speaker Reinhardt." He began, clearing his throat, "For all intents and purposes, if we were to go to war with the Turian Hierarchy and its allies now, we would be doomed from their present numbers alone, let alone wartime level operations. No, there is no question, it would be over as soon as they reached orbit above Earth. However we have certain advantages that they do not have. Many of them will be key for the possibilities that hostilities continue."
He laid down his first paper, bringing up the next, "Comrades, I am happy to say that peace is still on the table, while it will ache many to hear this, and we must not rely upon these Turians to not attack again, peace is still well within our lifetime." Many looked around with a mixture of apprehension and hope, war at the moment with the Hierarchy was a hopeless endeavour, with the humans not having a single operational ship under their name while the Turians had tens of thousands.
"Through the interrogation of our prisoners, as simple as it is, we have determined what the Turians have done here while not strictly illegal is still very much frowned upon, with their point of reasoning a weak one in a court of law, and the possibility of winning a legal case against them is more than possible. For those of you who don't know, the Turians make use of an unknown element called element zero, which has mass affecting properties. They also use large tuning fork shaped structures in space called mass relays, which will instantaneously teleport incoming vessels who transmit their mass to the relay. We don't know much more at this time, but what we do know is that activating dormant relays among their kind is extremely dangerous and illegal. But no one has ever been punished directly for it… Until now of course. They believed we somehow opened up a chain of relays leading from our homeworld to the extremity of their space."
Many people started to mumble and grumble in discontent, "As you can imagine, our legal case has a huge boon of the situation we found ourselves in when the Turians came, any point of reasoning the Turians may use would be discarded as frivolous: We simply did not have the means." Turning over his page once more, Kellovsky sighed, "Unfortunately from what basics we could understand from their history, sound legal grounds will not be enough. The potential impact to the Citadel Council, the alliance the Hierarchy is part of, in prestige and power with the reveal of this event would be embarrassing to say the least, and they would likely do what we would do in this situation against a vastly inferior power."
Pausing for dramatic effect, he looked to everyone, "Cover the situation up, by any means." Everyone locked eyes with Kellovsky, the almost unassuming man's tone and demeanor impressed upon them a chill. "Before we bring our legal case up, we must become strong. Strong enough to dissuade them from a quick end to any hostilities."
Various curses said under the breaths of the representatives went on as Kellovsky sat back down, "There's more finer details in my report, but every day it becomes out of date as more information is extracted. For all I know, their alien minds would not react with the malice that a Human would, but in the meantime, we must be cautious."
Reinhardt waited for a minute for the various side conversations to die down before speaking again, "Thank you Commissioner Kellovsky," the old man nodded his head demurely, "As you know, our strategic position at the moment is weak, but I believe the next report will raise our hopes."
Another man stood, dressed in an US Army uniform, he was in his early 50s, balding, greying hair, "Good evening gentlemen and ladies. I'm Colonel Jeremiah Sawyer, and I'll tell you all how we will win this conflict, and come out looking better than the other participants…"
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September 1990
Thousands of reporters were sitting outside the UN building in New York City, Surrounding them were literally hundreds of thousands of citizens, refugees, and military personnel. Throughout the world, to those who had access to power and a TV with a signal, or even a radio, they watched or listened to the live conference. Russians, Americans, Nigerians, Thai.
Everyone had questions, ideas, fears, excitement. The third World war had come to an abrupt end after the invasion from aliens. Every major political leader on Earth was present to answer questions and help translate for their nation's viewers.
The United States President, being the host, stood to talk first. "I would like to preface by saying thank you to all the brave men and women who risked their lives or committed the ultimate sacrifice, both before and after the invasion from space. Soviets, American, German, and more. You served your nations proudly, right or wrong, dead or alive."
The crowd was dead silent, no one spoke, as they took a moment of silence. Everyone had lost someone, a friend, a coworker, a family member, or at least an acquaintance. Under the grief and pain, simmered a resentment and fear, once reserved for their ideological opposite, now it burned against the alien invaders.
"My administration has received many questions from both local and abroad. Me and my peers have gathered here to answer the most asked questions." Taking out a piece of paper, the president put on his reading glasses, "Number one on our list today: How, did we win?"
He set the paper on the podium, and looking out among the crowd he breathed in, "We won, not just through strength of arms, but through the incompetence of our enemy, and pure luck. He who attacks everything, attacks nothing. Over 100,000 turian soldiers attacked every single nation, or coalition of nations, on the planet. 10,000 in the Continental US, 20,000 in USSR, 30,000 in Europe, and 30,000 in East Asia alone. Conversely they were up against 3 million US National guard, militias and reserve soldiers, 5 million Soviet Home Guard and reserve divisions, 10 million various forces in Europe including some of the most battle hardened soldiers Mankind has to offer, and 10 million Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese and more soldiers in Asia. We won through blood, numbers, determination, and being good at one thing and one thing only: War."
Everyone's attention was riveted to their screens and speakers, to the president of the USA, to the subtitles and translators in Cyrillic, Mandarin, German, Spanish. "We won, funnily enough," here the president took a moment to flash a smile and a chuckle, "Because we were better at war than they were! For their technological superiority they lacked in many areas key to how we understand warfare. Our armed men and women outsmarted theirs! Our Commanders out maneuvered their foe! We won because the Turians walked into a world in conflict!" He looked over the crowd and smiled a sad genial smile, that crossed cultures, through borders, through TV screens, and radios.
He sounded more somber now, "We won because we got lucky. Lucky that all our nations were mobilized, our soldiers experienced in battle but our reserves unexhausted. Lucky that we were human, and that our time in war had taught us to be good at it. Luck my fellow humans, saved us from slavery and oppression. And still we took tens of millions of casualties." Clearing his throat, the president started the next question.
"Our next question, one that affects not just many Americans, but most of the world: When will the rationing be lifted? I'm sorry to say we don't have a date. For the foreseeable future we will have rationing in place on many everyday items like oil, sugar, food, and in some places even water. But fear not, the good people in the UN, the Red Cross, and even our own militaries are doing their utmost to repair conditions, and even improve the living standard to those in need. For basic necessities like water and food, we estimate only a month longer before restrictions are lifted and trade continued. For oil and luxury items, we may be seeing shortages well into the late 90s." The president sounded genuinely empathetic. "In the meantime, for those who can spare, charities are accepting food donations for those in need across the world."
"Will they come back? Why did they strike? Will we be striking back? We are unsure on all of those questions. We do not know if the Turians got a message out to their superiors, we are unsure as to the exact reason why they attacked in the first place. Perhaps a misguided attempt to stop the bloodshed between brother nations? Perhaps overconfidence in their ability to control our world? Maybe they were just stupid?" There were some chuckles at the last one, lightening the hearts of all those present, "We do not know for sure all of these questions, and when we do learn as to why, we will announce it for the world to hear."
"Many have also asked if there is peaceful resolution to our troubles. Yes, there is a possibility of that. But it is not immediate. We are a small fish in a large ocean. Even the minor powers of their outlaw lands could handily take us on in a fight with enough time. In order to negotiate in a fair position, we must first be strong enough to deserve such a position! To that end, we must repair the injuries we have been wrought, by both human and alien hands. Infrastructure destroyed, homes ruined, families split apart! As you have all heard and seen, the last vestiges of the Iron Curtain came crashing down, and as brothers, east and west rejoined, tearful reunions, heartfelt moments."
He looked at the crowd as they grew more excited, as he built them up, "Together, we are stronger than separate. But hope and relief is not enough, the roads destroyed will be repaved, the shipyards laid idle will be renewed, spaceships and their dockings will be built from the ground up! Nuclear fission will be replaced with fusion! Humans will expand to the stars, and we will claim our rightful place there as equals to the Turian's Hierarchy! To get there, we will salvage what we can orbit and give our scientist and astronomers the thing they have been dreaming for centuries. We will settle Mars and Venus, we will go to our celestial neighbors and find worlds we can live upon and colonize! While many of you may find it cheesy, we will go to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before. That is the mission statement of the human people, to become strong, to expand, and to get repayment for the injustice that has been wrought upon us. Either in blood or treasure." His last statement brought cheers from the congregation, all around the world people looked forward to what he had promised.
The President paused, as the cheering died down and the clapping stopped, he looked among the crowd and into the cameras, and looking straight into the eyes of millions he declared, "Many may wonder how we will do this? We are but a planet of less than 10 billion, against an empire of hundreds of billions. If every single man woman and child were to go up in arms, we'd still be outnumbered 10 to 1 in just their active duty military. So no one may lay idle, our sons and daughters must be trained in the art of war, factories must be busy, we must learn the new tools at our disposal and find all the ways that we may use them to our advantage in the possible conflict ahead." Pausing he looked the cameras dead in the eye, to the hundreds of millions of viewers across the world.
"As Winston Churchill said of the British Empire when all hope seemed lost, when all odds were against them then like it is now, 'We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, and if, which I do not for a moment believe, this island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old.' And by God almighty, WE fought on the beaches of Normandy, WE died in the streets of Stalingrad, WE bled on the dunes of Tunisia! WE fought in the ruins of Stuttgart, WE died in the burgs of Dunkirk, WE bled geysers on the DMZ of Korea! WE shall never surrender our free will to the Turian Hierarchy, to this Citadel Council, to any alien force in the stars! WE shall be free, WE shall ensure others that are oppressed against their will are free too, or die trying!"
"Die trying" was repeated by the crowd, "Die trying! Die trying! Die trying!"
The president waved his hands down for the crowd to calm down, when they did he nodded to them all, "The people of Russia are ready! The People of China are ready! The people of Europe are ready! The people of the United States are ready! All of them and more are ready to make sacrifices to catapult us forward. Are you ready!?"
The cheering was deafening, "Damn right we are!" The President announced proudly. Saluting crowd, he then abdicated the podium for the Russian Prime Minister to take up the remnants of the speech to explain more of the fine details and the possible dangers of nuclear fallout.
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December 1990
"Choyrt! Not again!" Yelled one of the Russian crewers as he grabbed his station's fire extinguisher and sprayed down his burning duty station with the CO2 based extinguisher.
"Tell me again Captain Aker, why are we flying about the galaxy in a vessel that barely survived a nuclear fireball?" Captain Vostrikov asked the American naval officer, the same one who had originally saved him in the Pacific. Looking at the electrical fire as it died down after a few pats from the Russian crewer and his American Comrade.
"We can move her, shake her, go past light speed, and have her go through one of those relays without exploding. And all in 3 months. If you wanted miracles you should ask the pope or Lenin." The American captain replied to his Russian counterpart.
"Well, as long as we know how to deactivate these relays that's all that matters yes?" Vostrikov asked as they walked into the "Navigator's aisle", an elevated walkway with two trenches on either side that held host to half a dozen of the best linguists and computer engineers the world could offer at the time.
"We think we've found out how, and in case we can't we have several contingencies." Aker acknowledged.
"Such as?"
Aker looked distinctly uncomfortable, "The Tsar Bomba. If we can't destroy a relay with that, we have no means of doing so at this time. Thankfully, the Turian's computers have allowed us to track where the relays are, otherwise this could prove more than difficult."
Vostrikov nodded, "Yes, I read up on that, inactive relays are nearly invisible in space, they don't give off heat or any signals. Space is mind breakingly big, and a relay gives off no heat, no emissions, nothing. It will be nearly impossible to find in deep space."
Kharenkova nodded, "And please remind me, what is the plan?"
"Go to the furthest relay junction close to this relay 314, turn on a relay or two that doesn't point to us, then deactivate the relay leading towards us and the one after that. They will be too cautious to go further than one relay deep in search of the missing fleet." Thaddeus smiled.
"And we're sure they won't explore past the relays?" Kharenkova asked again.
"We got attacked on the mere suspicion we were responsible for opening these relays. Imagine the hypocrisy if they were to the same thing? Besides for all they know the relay opens up into a black hole and that's how they believed their fleet died. Now we have one minute until we reach that relay cluster we were talking about."
"Goddamnit! Another fucking fire!" Yelled an american behind them as the sound of an extinguisher was going off. Kharenkova and Thaddeus looked to one another.
"You religious?" Thaddeus asked the Communist.
"I wasn't. But now I'm really thinking about praying to Lenin." Kharenkova said with a slight smile.
Polenin appeared from the pilot's compartment, causing Vostrikov to nearly jump out of his skin, surprising the men in the navigations trench and making Aker flinch, "Captain, please remember the first rule for joke telling. Look over your shoulder."
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December 1990
"Capitalist pig whore of America!"
"Brainwashed Fratricidal commies!"
"Pink!" The bottle hit the South Korean soldier square in the side of the head, knocking him from where he stood, the North Korean responsible was tackled by the South's friends. Yelling and screamed resulted as both sides tried to pull their fighting members away from each other.
A minute later, 10 riot gear UN Blue Helms came in and beat down anyone still fighting.
"Enough! The bar's closed for the next week." A South Korean colonel stated to everyone, as medics and MPs tended to those injured and those arrested.
The South Korean's opposite, a North Korean Colonel, sighed sadly, "I'm going to suggest we segregate our men."
"No. We can't let such a minor incident get in the way of our unity." The Southern protested. Without even looking to his counterpart.
"30 people with various injuries, 1 UN MP wounded. This isn't minor." The Northern replied.
"I only saw 2 people hurt." The Southern replied, taking a moment to think he looked over finally, "Sure one of them will need 30 stitches, and the other broke one bone, but that's over all very minor."
The Northern looked to his counterpart flabbergasted, "Are you suggesting we lie?"
Moving close so that only his opposite could hear, the Southern sighed heavily, "Look, we can't have such an incident get into the news, everyone is looking for an excuse to call it all off. If doing the right thing is keeping this quiet, then it's what we must do."
The Northern Colonel hesitated, then lowering his head nodded, "Alright, what should we do with those others who were injured?"
"I'll handle my men, you handle yours. For the MP, I'll talk to him, he will understand. Now for those who started the fight?" The Southern asked.
"Latrine duty, together, for the next year? Learn to like each other or get a dishonorable discharge…" The North Colonel suggested with a shared smile from his counterpart
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Danzig, Republic of Poland
Felik was left looking at the ruined desalination plant, his breath billowing mist in the freezing air. The second time in a century, Danzig had been reduced to ruins. Some of it was due to NATO bombing, which had primarily targeted strategic targets like the dockyards, railway system, and the few factories it held host too. The Railway and Factories bombed at night by US Stealth Bombers to avoid civilian casualties, the dockyards and naval bases ruined by a submarine attack.
But what brought tears to his eyes and made him shake in anger was the turian bombardment. NATO had been professional, you could trust NATO as a worthy enemy. The Turians were a disgusting example of brute force made manifest. Impacts the strength of tactical nuclear weapons ravaged the strategically worthless city, destroying priceless historical treasures, killing hundreds of thousands.
Even now the city was dusted in ash, concrete dust, and a thick bank of snow.
He was away from his men, looking over the city at twilight. 'Fuck Malashenko, they all deserve the death they wrought.' He thought, before the sounds of huzzahs were raised in the air, and the sound of machinery began. 'While I'm at it, fuck the Soviets. They lied, they destroyed, they sniveled and cowered, fearing the power they would lose from their mistakes.'
The whole war had been wasted effort in his mind, all the lives lost, were lost for no gain, Polish dead for soviet greed, Balkan Families for Soviet envy, Czech and Slovakian blood for Soviet fear, East German homes reduced for political power. The Soviets had sucked away their economic abilities with their stupid and corrupt communist system, and then forced the polish people to pay the price of blood, two million of his fellow countrymen would never see another sunrise thanks to the meatgrinder of Germany and Scandinavia.
'But we can do better.' He thought. Nations have rebounded from worse than this. He could see a Poland, greater, and better than ever, safe, prosperous… With friends. New and old. The Soviet system was rapidly collapsing, Glasnost came, lies revealed, heads rolled. The Russian people came out from the oppressive heel louder than any other nation, things that would get you sent to gulags before were shouted from rooftops, daring others to tell them wrong. Finally receiving the rights they were guaranteed under their constitution.
The sound of machinery churning, rubble cleared away. There were almost no lights tonight. The only lights from headlights of trucks and construction vehicles. A once vibrant city, like many others, reduced to a flickering husk in the flames of war. Paris, Washington, Istanbul, London, St. Petersburg.
Felik's stomach growled, he hadn't eaten all day, having donated his last ration can to children in need earlier when they were dug out of their improvised shelter. They had been frostbitten and malnourished, and were currently with his men in the plant.
The lack of lights made him wonder, was there anything for others here? For the previous inhabitants he passed, those vainly hoping, clinging to it vaguely that their homes or part of it might remain. That there might be a future.
He was about to turn back, away from the almost set sun, when it got slightly brighter, as if someone held up a candle a hundred meters away, coalescing into a ribbon of light into the air, he had to guess it was a deployment flare, typically used in the the war to call down airdropped supplies. It flickered, in the kilometer wide bowl of what used to be downtown. Soon more joined it, he looked harder, and he could see then that a starfire shell was fired in the air by a 100mm AA cannon, followed by more, and the roaring of jet engines and turbines not heard since the NATO bombings began.
Looking up higher now, he saw the lights of jets as they flew over from the direction of the setting sun. Decelerating, parachutes began to puff out from behind them, wrapped in what seemed to be twinkling lights, like stars.
He immediately dug around his belt for his flare gun, the hill he was on was a perfect point for the landing of supplies being relatively clear of debris and in the open. He fired his flare in the air, and he saw a medium cargo plane divert to his direction. Loading in another quickly, his gloved hands not even interfering with the long practiced action, blue for a clear drop zone.
"Fwoop!" Went the flare. And from the back of the plane, several packages about the size of a small car dropped out. They landed a hundred meters away at most, half way down the hill, their red tinted parachutes billowing slightly in the freezing air. He approached the nearest one, and he saw now they were wrapped in christmas lights. The sun had set fully and he was glad they were now visible as such in the overcast sky with no moon.
He found a piece of paper taped to the large crate, "Dla naszych polskich braci, sincerely NATO".
"For our Polish Brothers." He read aloud, opening the crate the first thing he pulled out made his breath stop. Hot rations, with the equipment to make them.
Seeing what else was inside, he found smaller packages within the large NATO crate. They had the Soviet Red Star on it, he was suspicious. Carefully he pulled out the container, inside wrapped in thick padding were two bottles of vodka, several Soviet candy rations, two bags of coffee, and a slip of paper, "Przeprosiny dla naszych polskich Towarzyszy, С уважением Россия."
"Apologies to our Polish comrades..." He held the note in his hand, bottle of vodkas in the other. He paused in thought. Hate didn't g away with a care package and a written apology. But it helped.
He remembered his vacation in St. Petersburg when he was a teenager, and how he may never see the city like it used to be ever again with his own eyes. For the second time that night, he cried.