1210 hours
Nine (9) days after first contact

Major Thompson looked at the notes on his desk, going over them once more. The two-page summary he had in front of him had been a result of two days of effort, all aimed at calming the population of the city. Not that there were many disturbances in the first place: With much of the criminal network in the city laying low or under arrest in the aftermath of the arrest of the crime boss, the city was nearly free of any kind of crime, and the protests that had gathered in front of the town hall attracted no more than three dozen of the ponies at a time.

As he reached the end, Major Thompson sighed in relief. It was ready, and so was he.

Reaching over his desk, Major Thompson picked up the phone that had been installed, placing it to his ear. He pressed the button that connected to his assistant, and waited.

"Sergeant, send the 'Mayor' in. I need to ask him some questions." Major Thompson ordered, dropping the phone in its' cradle.

A few minutes later, the pony he was waiting for knocked on the door, walking without hesitation a moment later.

"Good afternoon, Mayor Record." Major Thompson said in greeting, before getting down to business. "How the hell do you contact the press in this damn city?"

"The 'press'?" The Mayor asked.

"Newspapers and such." Thompson interjected.

"We usually give them the material we want them to publish, and they do it." The Mayor replied.

"But isn't a press that is free to do what it wishes better? What benefit would there be to controlling them?" Major Thompson asked, fishing for answers.

"What? Did you think we would let them write their own articles? All they would do is spew nonsense, some of it harmful!" Mayor Record paused, looking directly at Thompson. "Please don't tell me you're thinking of doing that..."

1300 hours

It had taken nearly a full hour to put it together, but several dozen editors and writers from nearby newspapers were gathered together in the next room, waiting for him to come out. Major Thompson did not see himself as any great judge of facial expressions, but even he could see the confusion on their faces.

In all likelihood, having a story told to them instead of neatly bundled and delivered would be a new experience for them.

With one final, deep breath, Major Thompson grabbed his notes and strode out of the side room, and onto the podium where the newspaper figures were gathered.

A barrage of questions greeted him as he walked to the lectern, looking out to face the crowd of rapidly talking ponies. He held up a hand, and slow, the crowd quieted down.

"Thank you for being here today, gentlemen." Major Thompson said, putting on his best speaking voice. "I am Major Thompson, commander of the Coalition Forces in Trottingham. Today, I have a series of announcements, many of which are for your benefit. However, I would first like to go to a subject which you all wish to know: Why are we here?

"To put it simply, random chance. We were attacked as we gathered along the coast by a group of your guards, and we had to find a base of operations. This city happened to be it." A sanitized version of the truth, but the only one he was authorized to give out. "Truthfully, we do not know why we have appeared here, except by even more chance." Another near-blatant lie. Major Thompson had seen the tape that described how they had gotten there: All senior officers had. "While it would be wonderful to be in the business of peace, we are at war with your Princesses, through no fault of our own."

Several shocked gasps went through the crowd. Major Thompson ignored them, sticking to the speech. "In addition, we would like to apologize for any destruction we have caused. We will keep vital services running, and I will be directing the reconstruction efforts personally.

"Those of you in this room may also have heard of several changes of law that will be taking place. These include..."

Major Thompson quickly lost himself in listing off the myriad array of laws they had altered or eliminated. Many were directed towards removing ridiculous laws and ordinances, quite a few involved reducing restrictions on news sources, and a small minority erased an entire section of political crimes, mostly for opposing specific policies or candidates.

Finally, after five minutes, Major Thompson had finished with that section of his talk. Dozens of the ponies were writing frantically, while several unicorns in the back seemed to have brought along volumes of law books, and were flipping through them as they looked specific sections up. Most of the rest stared at him in rapt attention. Taking a deep breath, Thompson continued.

"Some of you may have also heard of the arrest of one 'Firm Grasp', a well-known criminal in the area. This is absolutely true." Several more gasps sounded in the crowd. "He is currently in custody, and will be tried according to the law. I would like to stress above all else that we intend to uphold the laws that are just and fair. Those that criminalize speaking out your mind will be kicked out the door, so to speak.

"Perhaps you wonder what I mean when I say 'We'. I refer to the men and women of our task force. We are Humans, representatives of nine different countries, as diverse and different as each of you are. I hope, above else, that you give us a chance to prove ourselves to you.

"Thank you for your time."

Major Thompson exited to a few small cheers and a chorus of shouted questions, none of which he answered as he left. Closing the door behind him, Thompson walked over to a table with a jug of water, pouring himself a glass placed here for that very purpose and downing it within seconds. Setting the glass down, he sighed, looking down at the ground.

"Give me an M4 and point me at the ragheads," Major Thompson said to himself after a moment. "But God help me if I ever try to do public speaking again."

After the 'press conference', so the Humans had called it, the many newspaper writers in Trottingham had come out with an entirely different view on the entire situation.

When the invasion had first come, the paper had only published a brief statement to 'Keep Calm'. They had ridden out hundreds of insane happenings, from a criminal attempt to take over their offices to Discord's antics, and it looked like this would end up much the same.

The heart of the manner lay in the fact that the newspapers were controlled by a set of laws so rigid, that they could neither post anything against the current ponies in power, nor could they state their own opinions. Suddenly being told that they not only had free reign to do so, but could publish with impunity, shifted opinions markedly.

They didn't even need to discuss it, and it was never mentioned out loud. The various writers simply locked themselves inside of their offices, occasionally in small groups, producing the news that would break out into the city tomorrow.

1354 hours

"One kilometer from location." Lieutenant Popov noted. Their Ka-27 flew through the air at sixty kilometers per hours, heading towards a location a UAV had noticed from a distance. One analyst thought he had seen a tank, and so they were sent out from the Admiral Nakhimov to see if the report was true.

"How are our passengers in back?" His co-pilot asked.

"We're fine, and we would be better off if you would learn how to fly!" Came the call from the passenger section of the small helicopter, currently holding four Russian Naval Infantry.

"We'll touch down within a minute." The pilot promised, spotting the clearing that had mentioned. Banking slightly to the left, he started to make out shapes, around the edges of what looked like a marsh.

To his shock, the helicopter passed right over the rusting hulk of some sort of turreted vehicle - He couldn't tell at the speed he was going. Turning the helicopter slightly, he started to decrease power, aiming for the largest area of solid ground at the outside of the marsh.

The helicopter kicked up a cloud of dust as it landed on the ground. The soldiers inside opened the doors as the pilot shut down the engines, the rotors slowly winding down.

As soon as Sergeant Vasin jumped out of the helicopter, AK-105 in his hands. He slowly scanned the area, ignoring the rusting hulks arrayed around the marsh as he looked for any ponies in the clearing. Behind him, the helicopter slowly powered down as he and the three men in his fireteam relaxed, seeing nothing immediately threatening.

"Sergeant, isn't that a Panzer III?" One of his men asked, motioning towards one of the wrecks.

Vasin looked closely at the rusting wreck, half-submerged in the water of the marsh, and noted that it bore a very, very close resemblance to the German tank that his countrymen had fought seventy years earlier. He made a snap decision.

"Czeslaw, you stay here with the helicopter." He ordered. "Lenoid and Gennady, you're with me. We're getting a closer look at that."

All three Naval Infantrymen approached the rusting hulk, stopping once they reached a point a few meters away. The final detail that sealed it was the faded iron cross on the hull of the tank, just below the turret.

"I thought we were alone..." Lenoid asked a few seconds later.

"These came through a long time ago, Lenoid. Look at the rust." Gennady replied.

Vasin looked around the edge of the clearing, the rusting hulks resolving into familiar shapes he vaguely remembered from his history classes. A T-34 lay in the mud not sixty meters away, its' turret knocked to the ground beside it, while another Panzer III sat a few meters away from it, the turret on the German tank turned towards the Russian one.

"It looks like they were brought here mid-battle." Vasin noted as he looked around. "Either that, or shortly after. I wonder-"

He was cut off as a shot rang out, a bullet striking the hull of the German tank in front of them a moment later. Startled, Vasin and his two companions ran into cover behind the large tank, Vasin himself aiming over the front hull of the wreck. What he saw startled him.

Sixty meters away, a man stood, holding a bolt-action rifle. He appeared to be in the last rags of a uniform, torn and ripped in several places. A relic of a bygone era.

And pointing a weapon at them.

"You'll never kill me, you horse bastards!" The man shouted in Russian, taking another shot at them and missing wildly.

"Sergeant, I have a clear shot." Czeslaw said over the radio. "Do I take it?"

"Negative, Private!" Vasin said rapidly. "Let me try to resolve this."

With that, Vasin stood up, waving an arm over the top of the tank.

"Comrade, stop shooting!" He yelled, and the man appeared startled.

"Who the fuck are you? Are you one of them?" The man yelled at him.

"No! And if you stop shooting at us, you'll be able to find out!" Vasin said.

"Come out from behind that damned tank, and I'll consider it!" The man yelled.

"You sure it's a good idea, Sergeant?" Lenoid asked.

"Nyet." Vasin replied, before walking around the front of the tank and towards the man.

As he approached, the man lowered his rifle, and Vasin could see quite a few more details than before. The man was probably in his nineties, judging by the white hair he had, and he wore a Soviet-era tanker's uniform, blue-grey in color. He was holding a Mosin-Nagant rifle, one that seemed quite worn and used.

"So, who the hell are you? And where were you all those years ago?" The man asked as Vasin closed to within twenty feet. "And what the hell are you holding?"

Vasin stopped, giving a sharp salute. "Sergeant Vasin, Naval Infantryman of the Russian Federation. And you are...?"

"Corporal Sergei Yudin, 5th Mechanized Corps, Soviet Union." The man - Sergei - said, slinging his rifle around his shoulder and saluting. "Russian Federation, eh? How long has it been since I arrived in... 1943?" Sergei asked after a short pause.

"Seventy-two years." Vasin said, turning towards his fireteam members. "Lenoid, Gennady! You can come out from behind the tank!"

The two Privates did so several seconds later, jogging over to the pair.

"Now, I have some questions." Vasin said, turning back towards Sergei and motioning towards the scattered wrecks. "What the hell happened here?"

"I don't know, Comrade." Sergei admitted. "The test went wrong, and we were here. My crew found itself in the middle of this damned field, with a few dozen German tanks - as well as a few allied ones - around us. We fought it out, and only myself and three other crewmen in our tank survived. They all died many years ago, and I remain." He finished sadly.

"We'll get you out with our helicopter once we're done here." Vasin said, motioning towards the idle Ka-27 only eighty yards away. "In any case, what tank were you in? And what test are you talking about?"

Sergei turned towards their helicopter, confusion in his eyes. "And what the hell is - No, I shall not ask. Follow me, and I'll lead you to the monstrosity of a vehicle that has kept me alive."

With that, the old tanker turned around, picking up his pace into a quick jog as they headed across the field. Within a minute, it became clear that they were heading towards a gigantic wreck, bigger than any that Vasin had yet seen. It looked to be one long, stretched tank, more than thirty meters long. The entire top seemed to be studded with various turrets, from smaller ones housing machine guns to the largest one, a huge turret that housed a pair of large naval cannons. All around it, hundreds of pieces of metal were scattered, with a large hole more than three feet across in the center.

"Behold," Sergei said as he slowed down, stretching out his hands. "The KV-VI Land Fortress."

"I thought it was a myth." Vasin noted.

"Well, what you see is the prototype we were testing." Sergei said, turning around to face them. "It turned like a pig, and we had trouble going up the hills, but it could unleash hell upon the Fascists. I was in the forward compartment when it happened: A blinding flash, and then this battle, and we were alone."

"You survived here for seventy years?" Vasin asked in surprise.

"Da." Sergei said, nodding. "I may be old now, but I quickly figured out how this area worked. The others died within three years, and I hunted in the woods for food, finding the occasional trees with strange fruits. I used everything I could, from the machine guns of the German tanks to the personal weapons of the crewmen."

"Do you wish to leave with us?" Vasin asked.

"To where would you go?" Sergei rhetorically asked. "Yes, I would. I have lived in these swamps for far too long."

"Retrieve what you wish, then." Vasin said.

Sergei nodded, walking through the hole in the hull of the tank. He emerged two minutes later, with a worn pack on his back and with his Mosin-Nagant in his hands.

"I am ready." Sergei said.

"To the helicopter, then." Vasin said.

The takeoff was uneventful, although Sergei clutched as his seat the entire time. As the flight went on and he got over his unease, the questions came quickly, and Vasin answered as many of them as he could. In return, Sergei told the group stories about his time there, including the many things he had found out.

Vasin made sure to record all of it.

"An old tanker, from the Great Patriotic War?" Captain Volkov asked over his com headset. "That is very, very interesting. I shall like to meet this man in the future. For now, fly him to the Admiral Nakhimov and debrief him. We'll need what he knows."

A technician walked up to Volkov as soon as he ended the transmission, saluting. Volkov returned it, wondering what news he would receive.

"Sir, the offensive shall begin in four hours." The technician said. "I was told to relay news from forward units: Elements of our forces have sighted the city. They will move to deployment positions within the hour."

"Thank you. You are dismissed." Volkov said, turning to look out the windows of the bridge. It was only a matter of time before the first aerial units were launched, and with them the forces that would take the center of the city. His ship itself sailed forward, with the city itself just over the horizon.

It would all be over shortly.

Written by Merchent343
Edited by The Rainbow Brony and CommanderWolffe

Author's Note

Almost a month since the last chapter. One more intermission out, and then Act VI starts.

This would have been out much sooner had I not been a retard and forgotten to give it to The_Rainbow_Brony (My Editor). Who was very confused when I asked him for a progress report. Cheers to him for being tolerant enough to overlook all of my many sins and get this done. And to my other, newer editor. As of this chapter, CommanderWolffe, a longtime reader, whom has been added to the team.

Also, I made a mistake earlier in the story, referring to some soldiers as 'Russian Marines'. The Russian Naval Infantry is the equivalent of the US Marine Corps, but it is not called the 'Russian Marine Corps'. I will be correcting this earlier in the story, as well as other errors as needed. If you see any, don't feel afraid to tell me.