-Twelve Years Ago, The Kataylabinsk Imperium-
"Empress?" inquired the royal servant, Elena.
"Just a moment." replied the Empress. Elena departed, and the Empress continued to brush her long, flowing red hair. When she had finally made it acceptable, she took up the crown of the Imperium and placed it upon her head. She had never particularly liked it. It was far too heavy and gaudy for her taste, but she had to tacitly accept it, as it was what her people expected of her.
For one more day, anyway.
She strode out of the room in her gold and brown dress, and traveled with Elena through the halls of the Dyevlin, the official residence of the Imperial family. They arrived at a waiting ballroom, where the nobility of the Imperium had gathered in celebration of the traditional Day of Painting. On the twentieth birthday of the reigning Emperor or Empress (the prior was required to abdicate upon their oldest child's eighteenth birthday), their official portrait would be made and hung in the Hall of the Imperators just outside the throne room.
The nobility from all across the Imperium ate, drank and made merry at the feast prepared by the Imperial house for their honor, while the Empress posed on the balcony of the ballroom for an hour and a half for her portrait to be made. It was long and arduous, made ever more so by the anticipation. When it was finished, however, it was a sight to behold: demonstrating the Empress's great beauty and majesty. While she kept little stock in royal tradition, the sight pleased her: she might actually have to keep it.
When she emerged from the balcony, the Imperium nobility took notice, and all rose to bow to the Empress. The complete and utter duplicity of the gesture was obvious; the nobility knew all too well who was in charge and kept it that way by cutting short the reign of any one Imperator who might challenge their local authority. Her father had gone so far, they actually ordered him executed for "tyranny and abuse of the office of Emperor," resulting in her coronation at the unprecedented age of sixteen. While ordinarily the Empress might be irritated, at this particular instant she found it amusing.
"Nobles of the court, honored guests of the Imperial house." The Empress smiled broadly with the same artificiality they had given her, and she continued. "I have for you a special gift: a delicacy from the far south, called key lime pie." She clapped, and servants appeared from all sides bearing plates of the dessert and laying it before the nobility. "I invite you to taste the fruits of imperialism that the great and powerful Imperium has reaped."
The nobility seemed to greatly appreciate this gesture, digging into the dessert with complete and utter abandon. The Empress checked to see if everyone along the table had taken a bite, and announced with a smile that betrayed the malevolence within her, "I have made a slight adjustment I find I often prefer: the addition of almonds. I hope you enjoy it." She snapped her fingers.
There were many cries and shouting from the various tables as the doors on every side but the Empress's burst open, and a mob of people broke in, wielding weapons ranging from rifles to pitchforks. They carried with them flags stained crimson red, and waved these fiercely as they emerged into the room with a distinct order. Armed guards burst into the room from behind her, coalescing around the Empress in a defense formation. "We are here for your protection," the captain told her. "We must go quickly!"
"What is the meaning of this, Empress Ekaterina?" asked Lord Nykolai, one of the senior members of the nobility, rising from his seat.
"I have no need for protection." replied the Empress. She pushed the captain of the guard aside and strode out before them. For a few seconds in which it was silent as the grave, she reached up to the crown upon her head and threw it to the ground, where it cracked into a thousand pieces.
She announced, "The Imperium is dead. Long live the People's Republic." The assembled crowds of workers cheered, and gathered around her, pushing away the guards.
"We will fight you from every corner of the Imperium in a bloody civil war," challenged Lord Nykolai, pulling the sword from his scabbard. "You cannot do this, not as long as we are still alive."
"Exactly," replied the woman now known only as Ekaterina Velikaya. "Do hope my father forgives you in the afterlife."
The assembled nobility almost simultaneously convulsed in spasms, and the revolutionaries charged forward, firing guns and swinging weapons at those who were not already dead from cyanide poisoning. As if it were in a different world, the bell outside the palace rung.
-Present Day, The People's Republic of Kataylabinsk-
"Premier!" shouted the premier's secretary, Elena, as she shook Premier Commissar Ekaterina Velikaya awake from her nap in a comfortable chair. The Dyevlin bell was indeed ringing, and it was ringing quite loudly.
As she came to her senses, she asked, "What exactly is going on?" An officer, colonel by rank as determined by the three stars on her pauldrons, came in at the same time.
"Colonel Nadya Lukinova at your service, Premier Commissar, we are under attack by an unknown threat from the West. And it appears that our surrounding nations have... mysteriously vanished, and been replaced by others." Regarding the Premier's look of confusion, she said, "It would probably be best if you followed us."
"Of course," replied Premier Velikaya. She brushed her uniform off, with the six stars indicating her position as head of the nation's armed forces, and followed the colonel.
After a short time, they arrived in the war room. The map that usually occupied the central table, that of the nations of the world of Osetia, had been taken off and placed in the corner, and had been replaced by a strange and unfamiliar map in which she only recognized the Kataylabinsk red, although the nation was oddly distorted.
"Premier Commissar." The assembled military personnel saluted as she came in, and she saluted them back.
"Please inform me as to the nature of the absurd predicament that we now find ourselves in," Ekaterina requested.
An older man standing next to the center of the map with five stars on his pauldrons, indicating a general, spoke up.
"The People's Republic of Kataylabinsk appears to have been transported to a strange and alien world, with humans much like ourselves, but an entirely different geopolitical landscape. From what we have determined so far, this world is called Earth, and we occupy the space of what was known as the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, a nation which appears to have been much like ours in government, economics, and ideology. This Union was under attack by a force known as..." He looked down at a paper, and attempted to carefully enunciate. "The
Deutsches Reich. This nation is the same one which appears to be occupying a significant portion of our western land. But all reconnaissance seems to indicate that this land is no longer occupied by our people, rather those seem to have been left behind. The land occupied by the Deutsches appears to contain the inhabitants that were there before this event occurred, and partisans for this Soviet Union who we are now attempting to reestablish communication with."
"This appears to be a world dominated by capitalist nations, and even worse, this Reich appears to be the grossest example of an authoritarian, imperialist dictatorship we have ever discovered. Its broadcasts are positively disgusting. But there already appears to be some resistance to this fact, and socialism appears to be gaining popularity globally."
The Premier's expression grew graver by the second. "This is a very serious situation. We need to reach out and establish contact with the other nations around us, to procure help, and redirect all of our existing forces to form a front to protect the capital against these invaders. If at all possible we should push them back and recover these poor people who have been occupied."
Here the Premier's expression grew more determined and certain, and she began to speak with greater authority.
"If we can effectively hold out against these Deutsches, we should resume our prior mission. To find socialist revolutionaries all across this world, and support them in their efforts to overthrow capitalist and imperialist institutions. We may have forsaken our homeland of Osetia, but we have been given a new planet on which to spread our message. We may take this as the opportunity to liberate a new world."
@Deaddlife FROM: Volodyna, Office of Foreign Relations
TO: TOS "The Voids Wrath"
Greetings from the People's Republic of Kataylabinsk. We know very little about the USSR you speak of, but we are
equally displaced from our home world and so we welcome you to dock for any services you might require in the port
you would know as Murmansk as a sign of good faith.
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