Chapter 2. First contact with the inhabitants of another world.
Universal Landing Ship of the Russian Navy "Priboy"
When the Russian government realized that contact with the outside world had been irreversibly lost, and Roscosmos specialists confirmed that the country had been transported to another planet, an uneasy silence followed. Within ten days, chaos gave way to stability. People returned to their daily routines, and it became clear to everyone: the only way was forward. In this new world, where hope for returning home barely flickered, every effort became more valuable. Sector by sector—from science and sports to medicine and defense—began operating with renewed vigor, and the air was filled with a phrase that symbolized the era: "Make the most of where you're planted."
As the situation began to stabilize, the Ministry of Defense initiated reconnaissance missions. Satellite imagery helped create the first maps of the surrounding areas, and soon, four Tu-142 aircraft set off to the west, southwest, north, and northeast to conduct aerial surveillance. Russia relied on its own strength but understood that survival and development would require diplomatic relations.
Reconnaissance reports revealed the existence of medieval-level civilizations in the southwestern direction. This news sparked near jubilation within the government. A diplomatic mission was quickly assembled, comprising diplomats, Foreign Intelligence Service officers, and soldiers from the Russian Special Operations Forces. They were sent aboard the new universal landing ship Priboy—the pride of the navy. This ship was a marvel of versatility: it could carry 16 helicopters, 500 marines, 40 armored personnel carriers, and even 10 tanks. The decision to deploy Priboy was dictated by the need to be prepared for anything—from a show of strength to rapid evacuation in case of danger.
As soon as the diplomats boarded, Priboy departed from the coast. Following at a discreet distance were the frigates Admiral Makarov and Admiral Essen, ready to protect the mission without attracting unnecessary attention. The first journey into this new world began with caution and respect.
Soon, heading westward, the crew of Priboy detected a small sailing vessel on their radar. Observers exchanged glances—it was a sight straight out of history books. The vessel appeared as though plucked from the past: wooden hulls, shields along the rails, and people clad in armor. The soldiers on board the Russian ship stared at the medieval craft in astonishment until their eyes met the equally stunned gazes of the sailors from the other world.
After a moment of hesitation, Priboy dropped anchor and lowered its gangway, inviting the strangers aboard. Still in shock, the sailors from the small vessel climbed up, greeted by members of the Russian mission. Standing nearby were ten Special Operations soldiers clad in black body armor and helmets—figures both imposing and reassuring. The sailors couldn't help but fixate on the metallic objects in the hands of the Russian soldiers. They resembled the muskets used by the Parpaldian forces but were clearly far more advanced in design and functionality.
Accompanied by two soldiers, the sailors walked along the deck, examining its details, marveling at the equipment, and listening to the hum of the powerful machinery.
Captain Midori of the military ship Pima was stunned.
The deck seemed endless, its vastness incomprehensible to a man who had spent his entire life aboard frigates and galleys. With each step, an overwhelming sense of unreality grew within him. He barely noticed how dry his mouth had become, and even his hand, resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword, felt powerless.
What is this? Midori's thoughts buzzed like a hive of excited bees.
"This deck is enormous!" she thought.
"You could hold five knightly tournaments here at once!"
But then she noticed something else: the strange clothing and two flags that she had never seen before.
"What on earth is happening?" she asked herself.
From the delegation standing on the deck, a man stepped forward. His attire was unfamiliar, but Midori noted that the man carried himself with dignity and authority. He walked calmly, a faint smile on his face, and wore dark glasses that only added to his air of confidence. The man seemed to radiate an invisible pressure that weighed on Midori, creating a sense of imposing superiority. The sensation quickly faded, but it left an impression.
"If my crew even thinks about trying to attack one of them, we won't leave here alive," thought Midori, the wild notion flashing briefly through his mind before he dismissed it. "But they don't appear hostile…"
Gathering his composure, Midori spoke firmly:
"I am Captain Midori, commander of the military ship Pima of the Second Fleet of the Principality of Qua-Toyne. These are neutral waters, but if you proceed further, you will enter the territorial waters of our principality. Could you please identify your ship's nationality and state the purpose of your voyage?"
His words seemed to surprise the members of the delegation. Behind the diplomat, murmurs arose among the escorts, their astonishment barely concealed.
"He's speaking our language?"
"And so fluently! In Russian, without even an accent!"
Snippets of their hushed conversation reached Midori's ears, though he couldn't understand what had caused their surprise.
Finally, the man in dark glasses smiled faintly and replied:
"Apologies. I am Dmitry Igorevich, a diplomat representing the Russian Federation. Our government seeks to establish diplomatic relations with your nation, which I understand is called the Principality of Qua-Toyne. We hope to build a friendly relationship. I would greatly appreciate it if you could deliver our greetings to your government."
"So, you are an envoy from a state unknown to us?"
Dmitry inclined his head politely, maintaining eye contact. His smile carried no trace of hostility, only confidence. The sight was unsettling to Captain Midori. His own men gripped their weapons nervously, and he caught someone silently crossing themselves, as if warding off evil.
"Yes, exactly. Please don't be alarmed—your men behind you appear uneasy, but we have no hostile intentions. Kindly reassure them that there's no need for concern."
"Understood. Stand down, everyone!" Midori commanded, and the guards visibly relaxed. "May I ask you a question? A few days ago, an unidentified object entered the airspace above Maihark. Was that… your knight?"
"Excuse me? A knight...? If you're referring to the Tu-142, then yes, we conducted long-range reconnaissance a few days ago. On behalf of the Russian Federation, I apologize for violating your airspace."
Tu-142. The word was foreign to the captain.
Hesitant, Midori gave a brief nod. Dmitry Igorevich, noticing the confusion, succinctly recounted how their country had been transported to this new world. The captain listened intently, his inner disbelief mounting. Stories like this were the stuff of ancient legends his mother used to tell him—myths about great empires lost to the ages.
"Our nation found itself suddenly in this world. To understand the situation, our government initiated reconnaissance. One of our aircraft accidentally breached your principality's airspace. The Russian Federation deeply regrets this incident."
With every word Dmitry spoke, waves of confusion and amazement seemed to ripple across the faces of Midori's men. The captain observed his subordinates stealing glances at one another, careful not to break the tense silence. The idea of an entire country being transported to another world was almost too preposterous to entertain. Yet, the grave and composed expression on the diplomat's face left little room for doubt. Midori realized he wasn't merely dealing with "unfamiliar sailors," but with a civilization whose culture and technology far surpassed anything he had ever imagined.
However, the serious demeanor of both Dmitry and his entourage made it clear this was no jest. Recognizing the gravity of the situation, Midori took a deep breath, preparing to relay this extraordinary message to his superiors.
"Given your circumstances, I will immediately report your peaceful intentions to my command. Please wait here for a moment," said the captain.
"Of course," Dmitry nodded, pausing for a brief moment. "May I ask how long it will take to receive a response?"
"Well then," Midori concluded with a light sigh. "I will notify command, and we would be glad to assist you in establishing diplomatic relations. Perhaps we can arrange for a peaceful visit from your representatives to our palace."
"We would be most grateful, Captain," Dmitry replied with a faint smile. "We are here not to conquer but to collaborate. I hope this first meeting will serve as the foundation for a long and fruitful friendship."
"Don't worry, I'll contact the principality's headquarters immediately using a manacom," Midori assured him. "We'll have a response within minutes. Decisions of this level are beyond my authority, but I'll do everything I can to assist you."
"A manacom? May I ask, is that… a communication device?"
Midori nodded, a touch of pride flickering in his expression as he retrieved a small artifact — a crystal encased in intricate gold filigree, emitting a faint bluish glow.
"Yes, this is a manacom, a device crafted by our finest mages. It allows us to send messages over long distances using magical energy."
The Principality of Qua-Toyne, Second Fleet Headquarters
In a cozy office faintly hazy with cigar smoke, 35-year-old Commander Nouka sat immersed in thought. His rugged face and piercing, disciplined gaze revealed a seasoned officer, one who had faced the trials of battle more than once. Now, in these peaceful times, he fulfilled his duties as a strategist. Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted the stillness, and a breathless manacom operator burst into the room.
"Commander Nouka! Urgent dispatch from the warship Pima! Priority Level One!"
"Read it," Nouka replied curtly, exhaling a stream of smoke and narrowing his eyes at the operator.
The operator unfolded the message and began to read the report in a steady yet noticeably tense voice:
"While inspecting the unidentified ship, the crew of the Pima encountered no resistance. Based on Captain Midori's assessment, the vessel measures approximately 220 meters in length and 38 meters in width. No sails or oars were observed. Onboard is a diplomatic mission from an as-yet-unknown nation—the Russian Federation. They displayed no hostility and expressed a desire to establish diplomatic relations with our principality."
The cigar in Nouka's hand froze midway to his lips. He couldn't believe his ears—a ship of such immense size, carrying a mission from an entirely unknown nation? "This is absurd... as if an entire palace had sailed into our waters," he thought, stunned by the report.
"What about the incident involving the unidentified object that breached our airspace?"
"Those were reconnaissance aircraft of the Russian military conducting aerial surveys a few days ago. Captain Midori reported that their country claims to have been… transported into our world."
"Transported? An entire country… transported?"
Taking a deep breath, Nouka stood, brushing ash off his cigar. The notion was almost impossible to fathom. Yet, ancient legends of "transferred nations" briefly flitted through his mind, though he had always dismissed such tales as pure myth.
"Stories of transferred nations… Could they be true?" he murmured to himself. After a moment of contemplation, he made a decision.
"Send word to the capital: I'm heading to the Lotus Garden to deliver a report. All the key figures of the principality will convene there—this isn't something we can ignore."
"Understood, Commander."
The operator nodded respectfully and hurried off to relay the report to the capital's Diplomatic Coordination Center. The future of the principality now lay in the hands of the Council. Meanwhile, Nouka mentally prepared himself to face the unknown—a diplomatic encounter that could reshape the entire balance of power on Rodenius.