On Behalf of Soviet Equestria

All quills at the table were lowered back to their respective inkwells as another article of the lengthy peace treaties was concluded. A hush fell over the entire room as the parties in attendance again read and re-read the stipulations.

The Map Room of Canterlot castle’s library was once more being put to use, holding the conference that would put the war with Soviet Equestria to bed once and for all. Princesses Celestia and Luna, along with their aides, were seated at the head of the long table, directly across from three Soviet ambassadors that had taken the seats at the other end. Some form of staring contest had developed between one of the Reds and Princess Celestia during the progression of the meeting. When they weren’t writing or reading, their eyes met and were firmly locked. One of the princes from the Crystal Empire was in attendance, along with several of his subordinates. The humiliated stallion sank into his seat, grinding his teeth harder and harder with the completions of each article of the treaties. He made eye contact with nopony. He was too embarrassed to face Celestia and Luna, and was too infuriated to look at the Reds. But what really made his blood boil was the pony across from him, lounging calmly in his seat and looking rather pleased with the state of affairs. This of course was Prince Emerald-Ingot, the turncoat that cut Emeraldavia out of the imperial patrimony. More than satisfied to have thrown out his former title of count, Emerald-Ingot felt more like a celebrity than merely a member of the conference. For the first time in his entire life, he had made his name known throughout all of Equestria and managed to score an influential spot in the negotiations with the Reds. In the Soviet republics, his actions were regarded as gestures of friendship. In the Crystal Empire, he was condemned as a traitor. Everywhere else, he was a stallion with a convoluted personal agenda. But at the end of the day, Emerald-Ingot didn’t care if he was a traitor or a savior, friend or an enemy. He crowned himself prince. Everypony now knew his name. Emeraldavia was his and his alone. And that was all that mattered.

“All parties are in agreement?” Celestia asked the group when it appeared that everypony had finished scrutinizing the text of the freshly-written article. All ponies seated around the table nodded, save for the lone crystal prince that grunted an unintelligible response. “Alright, then. The next order of business?”

“Mustangistan,” one of the Soviets spoke up. A small map was surrounded in her aura and lifted from the table. “These are the proposed boundaries, as well as the structure of the councils in the capital, Tashkanter.” The ambassador sent the map floating toward princess Celestia, but one if the crystal prince’s aides grabbed it first. The Soviet huffed as she shot him an annoyed glance. The imperials spent a minute reading the Soviets’ stipulations.

“They’re doing it again!” the prince roared, jumping up from his seat. He stared down the document as his aide kept it suspended in the air. “They’ve re-configured the borders, claiming far more land than Mustangistan actually occupies!”

“We’re doing no such thing,” was the Soviet mare’s frank reply. “You just want to take for yourselves and strip the republics of what they rightfully deserve.”

“They did the same for Trotterstan!” the crystal prince shouted, slamming his hoof on the table. He turned to face the princesses, but avoided direct eye contact with either.

“Trotterstan border was to adjusting for miscalculation,” said another of the Soviets, his Equestrian far less polished than that of his comrade. “You attempt to have stealing northern regions of Trotterstan. You thinking we overlook!”

“We can’t continue this way,” Celestia said sternly. Now, all eyes (except for those of the imperials) were on her. “With every new article, there’s a new fight. If everypony keeps throwing accusations around, we’ll never make any headway. Now… can we all take a deep breath and maintain our civility?”

Uneasy silence followed as the prince folded his forelimbs and sunk back down into his seat. The Soviets whispered amongst themselves. Emerald-Ingot maintained his unwavering smile.

Before Princess Celestia could continue, the doors to the map roop creaked open, revealing one of the royal guards.

“Your Grand Royal Highness,” the armored white stallion began. “We’ve um… Well, there’s a… You’re needed in the throne room.”

“You… are aware of what we’ve been doing in here, I hope,” Princess Celestia said as she turned to face the guard. “I said that Princess Luna and I were not to be disturbed until the conference had ended. What could possibly take precedence over the drafting of the treaties?”

The guard stepped further into the Map Room, and it became quite apparent that the stallion was particularly nervous. He crept toward Celestia with an unsteady gait and motioned for her to lean down toward him. Nopony else heard what he whispered into her ear, but whatever the message was, it widened her eyes and caused her to jump out of her seat.

“Sister, I’m afraid I’ll need to briefly take leave,” Celestia said to Princess Luna. “Please see the Mustangistan stipulations through.”

“Of course,” Princess Luna added, nervously shifting in her seat. “Is everything alright?”

“I… I think so, yes,” Celestia replied as she turned and made for the door as the guard followed behind. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Though at the same time… I’m not entirely sure.”

The guard pulled the doors closed after the princess left, again isolating the group in the Map Room from the remainder of the castle. Silence ensued. The Soviets were suspicious of what had just transpired. The embarrassed imperials seemed somewhat relieved of Celestia’s temporary absence. Prince Emerald-Ingot didn’t seem to pay the interruption much mind. He was too busy staring contently at the large map of the Crystal Empire on the far wall - the same one that had been marked and edited to show the new republics of Soviet Equestria and the independent Princedom of Emeraldavia. The candles on the walls and table flickered when the doors shut, casting dancing shadows across much of the room. Princess Luna did her best to put out of her mind what had just transpired and the uncertainty that trailed behind it.

“So, then,” one of the Soviets spoke up after clearing her throat, “to continue… Mustangistan.”

“Right,” Princess Luna answered as the imperials sighed in disgust. “Mustangistan.”

*   *   *

Celestia knew not what to think when she entered the throne room to find Gennady Mareinskiy waiting inside. The cream-colored earth pony didn’t turn to face her when she entered, but instead continued gazing across the room at nothing in particular. He again wore the suit with the strange cut for which the Soviet diplomats had become famous, but unlike his previous visits to Canterlot, he now bore a red ribbon and a pin on his lapel. Palominov and the other delegates had been seen with such Party paraphernalia time and time again. Mareinskiy had never before openly displayed those articles outside of the Motherland.

The air had been heavy in the Map Room, but when Celestia saw her uninvited guest, she felt stifling discomfort. The guards informed her that the Soviet had arrived alone, demanded an audience and refused to leave until he got one. The gate guards had let him pass - they figured he was a straggler that was late for the treaty conference. But that was not the case.

“You’ve made an idiot out of me, Celestia,” Mareinskiy stated. He didn’t approach her. He didn’t bow. He didn’t address her as one who seeks an audience would be expected to do. “For months, I thought that I was bridging a gap between the Party and the crown. But the whole time, you had me play the jester.”

The princess didn’t know how to respond. It seemed that she was talking to someone she had never before met. The Gennady Mareinskiy standing before her was not the one that she remembered from the dialogues of the previous year.

“I was a joke. A harlequin. Simply a laugh. Did you enjoy the show? After all, you staged it yourself,” Mareinskiy went on, almost without emotion.

“And what show have I staged?” the princess asked.

“We know everything,” Mareinskiy sighed with his eyes squeezed shut. “Rallying the anarchists… The attacks on Trotterstan, the assassins hired to take down influential members of the Party! It was all coordinated right here,” the stallion growled with two stomps on the floor of the throne room. “But the worst bit was your lying to our faces, enticing me to believe that you were at least partly sympathetic, when all the while you were against us.”

Just a few days ago, frenetic imperials had sent word to Celestia that the Reds might have gotten their hooves on some sensitive information, though nopony was sure. Princess Celestia had expected the worst, but even having the beforehand supposition did not prepare her for the feelings that followed Mareinskiy’s words.

“There were a few months where I... almost alienated myself from the Party trying to defend you,” the distraught stallion continued. “I spend days trying to sway the minds of everypony that wanted to write you off. Only some took my side. We thought there was going to be a schism. A schism! On top of everything else, what with half of Equusia untrusting of the Party and anarchists popping up everywhere! I even thought they’d dismiss me from the Council at one point. But that didn’t stop me from believing what I thought to be true. And back and forth to Canterlot we went, trying to stop a war before it started. ”

The cream-colored pony sounded winded and forlorn, but his voice was laced with some strange emotion that seemed to indicate a tireless rage hidden somewhere in the middle of it all, waiting to claw its way out and strike.

“They’re laughing at me, now,” Mareinskiy said, with a laugh of his own. “They say they don’t, but I know they do. My comrades ask how I could have been such an idiot, believing your concern for us to be sincere… and all the while you were plotting against us.”

“That’s a lie,” Celestia responded. The princess finally left the doorway of the throne room and approached Mareinskiy. Three guards followed her from behind, and she did not dismiss them from the throne room.

“Is it.”

“The notion that I was against you ‘all the while’ is very far from the truth. And if you believe it, you believe falsehood,” Celestia stated. “Princess Luna and I spent months contemplating the crucible that was your Soviet Euqestria. During that time, our cooperation was entirely possible, and at one point welcomed. But then your Party elected a chairman. They elected your premier, Vladimir Orlov. That changed everything.”

Celestia was standing next to the lone Soviet now, staring intently at his lapel pin - a little red flag displaying a golden hammer and sickle. Her tone was a strange mix of sympathy and aggravation.

“Wanting out of the Crystal Empire is one thing,” the princess went on. “Toppling the crown is another. Your Party had its radical element from the very beginning. You had your fanatics - the ones that wanted more than to leave the Crystal Empire. They talked about their revolution spreading to all corners of the world. There was supposed to be some great awakening, where everypony across the land comes together and eliminates the throne. Then, the strongest proponent of these ideas - Orlov - becomes the premier. If you were in my place, what would you have done? Sit around and wait for his rhetoric to become reality?”

The princess walked past the stallion and toward the windows of the throne room, bright with afternoon light.

“I’ve been disappointed with the imperial royal family in recent years,” Celestia admitted. “In the beginning, the rise of Soviet Equestria, shocking as it may have been, was something of a punishment for the imperial greed and ignorance. But, of course, your radical revolutionaries were an issue. When Orlov became premier, it was the end of cooperation. The only way we’d even remotely see eye-to-eye with the Soviets was to eliminate the radical element. Help the imperials win the war to strip Orlov of his power, or eliminate Orlov directly. Or both.”

Mareinskiy watcher her in silence. The guards were right behind him.

“But if you’ve come all this way to make me feel guilty for what was done…” the princess said firmly. “Well, naturally, I did what was necessary in order to keep the throne that has rightfully been mine for thousands of years, even though I’m not particularly proud of it. I wasn’t about to abdicate for some self-proclaimed revolutionary upstart, especially when I’ve never once acted like Saphirov, or any of the other imperials that mistreated your Equusia.”

“It’s obvious to me,” Mareinskiy said, carefully watching the guards around him, “why you did what you did. I just want to know why you lied to me. Why you kept wasting my time and filling my mind with false hope.”

“We had to keep you in the picture. We could negotiate with your element of the Party. But it would have been impossible without Orlov and his associated out of the way. Naturally we had to keep our intentions a secret, or we’d lose your trust.”

“Can I even trust that you’re being truthful now?” Mareinskiy asked with a shake of his head. “You could be lying to me again. You’ve done it before.”

“And I said that I wasn’t proud of it. If I had my choice, I wouldn’t have lied to somepony that looked upon me favorably,” Celestia responded. “But there were no other options. In the end, it all worked in your favor regardless. You’ve won the war and your independence from the Crystal Empire.”

“And rather than settle it a year ago, we had to lose countless lives and half a city to do it.”

“Mr. Mareinskiy,” the princess said with a raised voice, “as you are no doubt aware, the treaty conference is underway at this very moment so that we can officially bring the war to an end. I must return to the library. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

The Soviet shook his head. He had been dismissed. Again. He was unsure now why he had made the trip. He left the Hall of the Council of Ministers and made a beeline for the train station. After another restless night on a stuffy sleeper train to Canterlot, he was in the throne room, but for what? To ask a few questions with obvious answers and then be sent back home? Of course she wanted Orlov taken down. His Soviet Equestria was incompatible with royal Equestria. Of course she wanted to maintain the trust of a moderate and keep secrets to cover it all up. So why, exactly, did he come to Canterlot? What more was there to know or do? Did Mareinskiy really think telling Celestia that the secrets were out would change anything?

Mareinskiy started to walk about aimlessly. The three confused guards followed him as he went along.

“You know, Celestia, Soviet Equestria is a workers’ paradise,” the cream-colored stallion stated as he turned back toward the alicorn. “Nowhere else in Equestria is the labor of the masses so cherished. The longest, most tiring days of work… Those are holidays for us.”

“Mr. Mareinskiy, I must return to the conference. Our conversation is over,” Celestia said angrily.

“Look, you can throw me out of your castle, but that won’t change anything,” Mareinskiy laughed. “You see, comrade, you thought that Orlov becoming premier was the big problem. But your biggest problem has yet to come.”

The guards took a step toward the now strangely-giddy Soviet.

“The revolution is so young,” the Soviet went on dreamily, addressing the three guards around him. He was talking without thinking. The words weren’t entirely his own. The propaganda machine of the party - the same one that had played continuously throughout the war - was speaking through him now.  “It might have started over a year and a half ago, but do you think for one second that it stopped? There are five Soviet republics. But there will be more.”

“Mr. Mareinskiy, I must ask you to leave my throne room,” the princess demanded. “And I’m not going to ask again.”

Gennady Mareinskiy couldn’t handle another dismissal. The onset of war had shattered his fragile mind over a year ago. He “recovered,” but anypony who knew him could see that he hadn’t been the same since. He had slowed down. His thoughts weren’t calculated and logical as they once were. And now, after the tables had turned, the war was won, and the secrets were all revealed, he was finished with cooperation.

“I was wrong, and they were right. Just like comrade Orlov said, the revolution will spread. Everypony will wake up, just like we have, and become conscious of what power the masses truly possess. Can you hear it? Listen - across the entire Motherland, they are singing...”

“Get him out of here,” the princess barked.

The guards leapt toward and seized Mareinskiy.

“Get your hooves off me!” Mareinskiy screamed, straining and kicking, but to no avail. The meek stallion of the previous year had disappeared. Now, a crazed revolutionary had taken his place. “Yobanniy imperialisticheskiy svin!”

He screamed and hollered unintelligibly in Equusian as the guards dragged him toward the door. His voice echoed sharply in the vastness of the throne room, off the columns and windows and back again. Mareinskiy worked a hoof loose and delivered a solid blow to the face of one of the guards. He wrestled free of the other two and bolted for the doors of the throne room. But just beyond the doorway was another group of guards that had rushed down the hall in response to the commotion. The armored stallions overpowered Mareinskiy and brought him to the floor.

Celestia approached the heaving pony while the guards kept him grounded.

“He’s out of his mind. Get him out of the castle,” she ordered. “Take him to the station and put him on the first train back to Equusia.”

With that, the guards picked him up again and dragged him through the doors to the corridor.

“Is that it, Celestia?” Mareinskiy laughed as he was carried down the hall. “Just have me thrown out? I don’t even get a do zvidaniya?”

Princess Celestia walked swiftly to the doorway. She was going to have to put this episode out of her mind for the moment and return to the treaty conference. Passing into the hallway, she turned to close the doors of the throne room, but stopped when she spotted something resting on the floor.

It was the red ribbon that had been pinned to the lapel of Mareinskiy’s suit. It had fallen off during the struggle. After staring at it for a few moments, she picked it up with a wave of her horn. Then she closed the doors and made haste for the library.