On Behalf of Soviet Equestria

The Map Room of the castle’s library was in complete disarray. The table at the center was covered from end to end by a mess of documentation, ranging from law codes of the Crystal Empire to the letters and reports received from the heralds that visited the castle over the previous months. At one corner was a stack of articles from the Canterlot Academy of Political Science, and at another was a jumbled mass of Party newspapers that had been taken from Stalliongrad in recent weeks. Sitting face-up on the pile near Princess Celestia’s seat was a collection of reports on the most influential revolutionaries and affiliates of Soviet Equestria’s ruling Party, some with crude photographs that had been clandestinely taken, and some with crystal-clear facial shots of the Reds. A stack of books resting beside a table leg consisted of a political history of the Crystal Empire in fourteen volumes, as well as two books that contained specific information about governmental and social structure of the Southern Imperial Territories, some of which were now a part of the Soviet Equestrian Coalition.

Celestia had stopped scouring the papers on the table about twenty minutes prior. Now, she was simply sitting and thinking, all the while staring absorbedly into the map that hung on the far wall.

“The Crystal Empire” was written in elegant script in the bottom margin, and that’s precisely what it was – a carefully-constructed diagram of the imperial lands. It had been drafted ages ago, but had remained more or less completely accurate up until the recent events that had transformed life in the Empire and shaken Equestria to its very core. “Corrections” had been made, however – a hasty web of lines, scribbles, and labels now covered the painstakingly-drawn borders, markings, and designations of the original cartographer.

A bold, red line had been drawn around a large area of the map in the southwest. The encircled area had been adjusted several times and was intersected by lines that showed where the borders had been drawn before subsequent corrections. The first delineation that had been made was labeled as “Equusia – ‘Federative Soviet Republic.’” Budding out to the north of this outlined area was another zone marked in red, far smaller than the first. This second area was labeled “Belequus” by the original cartographer, but that text was covered by speedily-penned words “Belequusian SSR.” Budding out from the southeast were two more additions to the recently-added borderline, labeled Trotterstan and Mustangistan. Of course, they had since been re-identified as the Trotter and Mustang SSRs.

The cities that had been marked were surrounded by notes and statistics that had been added over the course of the recent weeks – dates of revolts, degree of imperial influence, presence of anarchists, degree of industrialization, population counts... Stalliongrad, Saddlestopol, Maremansk, and Foalgograd had been labeled most thoroughly. Manesk, Palominograd, and Tashkanter were less copiously annotated.

All in all, the territory outlined in red comprised a sizeable percentage of the entire map. It was bordered on the eastern side by two small regions that had been included by the cartographer, but recently highlighted with a yellow ink. The original labels – Grazerbaijan and Fetlockistan – had not been changed. Another region to the east – Emeraldavia – was circled in green.

The declaration of the Equestrian Soviet Socialist Republics had stripped the Crystal Empire of nearly a third of its land. If it continued to grow, the figure would steadily approach the 50% mark. And as Celestia stared at the map, concentrating on those disconcerting red lines, she could see them growing already, painfully remembering the days on which they were edited to account for Belequus, Trotterstan, and, most recently, Mustangistan.

The door to the Map Room creaked open. Celestia turned to find her younger sister proceeding through the doorframe, half cloaked in shadow and half illuminated by the flickering light of the candelabra that stood by the hinges.

“Sister,” Princess Luna said softly as she approached. The loud clacks of Luna’s hooves grew muffled as she crossed to where the wood of the floor was covered by carpet. “I think it’s best that you retire to your bedchamber. You’ve been sitting in here for-”

“I don’t want to know how long I’ve been in here pouring over all of this,” Celestia interrupted. “All the time that’s been spent has only added up to zero.”

Princess Luna dropped her head and watched her sister with concerned eyes. The Princess of the Sun was weary from contemplation. It had been the third straight day that Celestia had shut herself away to study the situation. It seemed, however, that she was no closer to rendering judgment.

“I don’t know what to think,” Celestia mumbled as she stood up from the seat. “For every fact that incriminates the Reds as a threat to the crown, there’s some piece of imperial history that shows just how disloyal the Crystal Empire has become. These Reds… they’re not entirely wrong.” Celestia had passed her sister now and stopped at the other end of the long table, staring at the photographs of the Party members. “The Southern Imperial Territories have been treated harshly for a long time now, and there’s no good reason for it. Duke Saphirov isn’t who I had perceived him to be in recent years. He is greedy and uncompromising at heart, and the rest of the imperial administration isn’t far behind him. All they want to do now is act in their own self-interest. When the ambassadors make these claims that the imperials see themselves as independents… it’s not as inconceivable as it once was.”

Celestia continued around the table and stood before the map of the Crystal Empire that hung on the wall, flanked on either side by delicate tapestries, into which were woven the image of the flag of many hues.

“But this isn’t simply the Empire’s problem any longer,” Celestia mumbled, shaking her head as she followed the red lines with her eyes. “They didn’t stand up to imperial authority and demand justice. The Reds have declared their own sovereign state. At first, their target was the Crystal Empire alone. But now, as they continue to grow, they’ve pitted themselves against us all the same. Or, at least, some of them have…” Celestia turned around to face the table and let her eyes rest on a photograph that rested at the top of one of the stacks of documents. Luna, standing behind her sister now, followed her gaze.

“And who is that?” she asked, studying the rough-looking stallion in the picture. Celestia waved her horn and lifted the picture into the air.

“He calls himself Orlov,” Celestia explained as she narrowed her eyes. “That’s not his actual surname. Nopony knows for sure what it is. He led the final revolt in Stalliongrad that pushed Saphirov out. He’s one of the most influential Party members and commands a great deal of respect. He’s also one of the most outspoken opponents of the crown.” Princess Luna added her own aura to the photograph and brought it toward her.

The stallion in the picture seemed stolid. His gaze was intense, and while he neither frowned nor smiled, he seemed to be thoroughly judging the observer. The name V. I. Orlov was scrawled across the bottom of the photo. It was written twice – first in the Equusian alphabet of Soviet Equestria, and again in lettering that Luna could understand.

“He’s among the ponies that are taking this mess beyond the borders of the Empire,” Celestia continued as she moved the picture to where she could again see it. “He speaks of an Equestria-wide transformation with its epicenter in Stalliongrad, in which everypony is to be awakened to their oppression and break free of the tyrants that subjugate them.” She turned her head toward Luna. “He’s made it very clear that you and I, sister, are the tyrants.”

“The claim has no grounds,” Luna retorted.

“Of course it has no grounds. And there are members of this Party that understand that fact very well.” Celestia let the photo drop to the top of the table. “It’s become clear to me that the Party of Soviet Equestria has two faces. Orlov is the one face. But we’ve seen part of the other face in Gennady Mareinskiy, the ambassador who you finally met just a few days ago. In him, we see the side of the Party that demands compensation for the wrongdoings of the imperials and nothing further.”

Princess Celestia turned to the map again and focused on the city of Stalliongrad at the heart of the Federative Soviet Republic as Luna responded,

“Then how can we conceivably support the one side without supporting the other?”

“That won’t be our problem. I fear that, very soon, there won’t be two sides to the Party. For they cannot coexist and form a coherent whole. Our informants have explained that Orlov is still gaining support. The Empire has informed us that the declaration of war is only days away, as you already know. When that day comes, everypony will side with Orlov. There will then be one face to the Party – the face that will never see eye-to-eye with Canterlot.”

“And should we enforce the peace,” Luna sighed, “we’ll only push the Crystal Empire farther away than they already are, and we’ll have a second situation on our hooves.”

“Precisely.”

“But sister,” Luna asked, looking at the map, “there is no time left to plan how we’re to please the imperials and the Reds. We’ll not be able to please both sides. But regardless, something must be done.”

“Without a doubt,” Celestia muttered, returning the gaze of Orlov’s photograph, “something must be done.”