Central Committee Resolution no.3690, 24 May 1937
View Online
Central Committee Resolution no.3690, 24 May 1937
Central Committee Resolution no.3690
Central Committee Archive, Equus City
24 May 1937
To the members and candidate members of the CC VKP(b)
The Central Committee has received information implicating CC candidate member Fluttershy as a Changeling in participation in an anti-revolutionary, rightist-revisionist conspiratorial block in espionage work against the People’s Republic on behalf of Reactionary Griffonia. In connection with this, the Central Committee puts to a vote to members and candidate members of the CC VKP(b) the proposal to expel Fluttershy from the party and transfer their case to the PMIA.
Secretary of the CC VKP(b)
T. Sparkle
[marginal notes, in handscript:]
Unconditionally, yes. It’s neccessary to finish off this scum. S. Armor, 25.5.37 11:20
I vote for the motion of the CC. 25 May 1937. S. Belle
25/5/37 I abstain - Applejack
Comrade Sparkle circled Shining Armor’s spelling mistake with her customary red pen before setting the communique aside. She turned back to her pile of books, which was nearly depleted, and decided to take the last of them to bed with her. She left the remainder where they were for her librarian.
It was a brisk May night in Upper Equestria, as she was reminded when stepping out of the library. In truth it was really just a converted barn, but it sufficed. Her personal library was small, with no more than twenty thousand volumes, but she had a courier come in once a week with her requests from the state libraries. He was late this week, so the ‘returns’ pile was at knee-height now. There was little room for fiction, of course. She hadn’t had the time for a novel in years, barring Yearling’s steady output and Applegate’s infrequent flashes of brilliance. Which reminded her.
Once she entered the lodge, books still in-tow, she stopped by the telegraph-room. The guard, who doubled as the operator, awaited her orders. It was two in the morning, but they were her staff: they kept her schedule. Well, technically they were PMIA. But these answered to her. “A telegram for Comrade Dash.”
The guard was already waiting with her pen-in-mouth. “Consider Applegate my Yearling. She is not to be investigated.’ That will be all, thank you, Quill.”
She left as Quill started tapping away.
Try as she might, she could not fall asleep afterward. Fluttershy had seemed so harmless. Even Dash had doubted her actual guilt.
Then again, the practical reasons for her removal hadn’t changed. Shining was right, she had acquired too much pull with the Guard’s bureaucracy. And her ideas about the use of animals weren’t just impractical, but a waste of resources.
Dash’s ponies weren’t the best, or the best-educated. Those went into the Guard, like Fluttershy, or the government, like herself. In fact, there was a whole series of jokes about their ill-education and lack of manners. She should know, she’d protected most of the authors from Dash’s ministry. Celestia only knew how hard good humor was to come by these days, even if most of it was just old material that’d been recycled.
Excerpt from Unite! The Workers’ Daily Newspaper
Sparkle Family Archive, Baltimare City
18 December 1934 edition, page 12
Why do PMIA officers travel in threes?
One to read, one to write, and one to keep an eye on the two ‘intellectuals’.
[marginal notes, in handscript of T. Sparkle:]
Author S. Rant.
Would Dash have ensured that Fluttershy was treated well, or would she be treated like the others?
Realising she’d gotten to the root of what had been bothering her, she scrambled out of bed and down to the telegraph-room. Quill was still there, nursing a glass of the lodge’s ubiquitous caravan-tea. She set it aside and stood at the ready as she saw her boss approach.
“Another Telegram to Dash. ‘Ensure Fluttershy is handled gently.’”
Twilight woke at eleven o’clock, same as usual. On her bedside table a glass of hot tea was waiting on a serving-tray, with exactly four cubes each of butter and sugar neatly stacked in triangular piles on little dishes off to one side. She got up and drank, noting the click of the pressure-pad, and sat at her desk to the sound of another click. The comics in today’s Worker’s Daily were passably amusing. The paper was a slim volume, just twenty-three pages today. She finished reading it through in just under two minutes, then left her bedroom to have breakfast. She brought the tray with her.
Breakfast was hot oats with more tea. She considered having an early cigar, but decided to leave it. She was sufficiently alert this morning.
The latest reports were waiting in her study. The stack was short, but dense. Nothing really stood out at her, but she processed the information all the same. Shining was already downgrading some of Fluttershy’s programs, perhaps assuming that Twilight wouldn’t notice or care. She’d been dubious about the programs, but she would still have to confront him about it. She pressed the buzzer to someone, not looking up to see who it was, and passed them a message. “Telegram please,” she told them. She would need an alternative perspective as well.
S. Armor, Applejack to see me this evening, 7 p.m. Bring smoking jackets.
Spike reported more anti-Equestrian sentiment in Griffonia. The dragons and the Minotaurs were making noise about opposing Griffonian expansion. That was interesting, but she could wait to see him for a while yet. She pressed the buzzer again and made to write a second message.
She found herself wondering what day of the week was, before settling for just using the date as always. She made her own schedule, so she hadn’t bothered to check in years.
Spike to see me 7 p.m. 26/7/37.
She handed it to whoever it was with a murmur of thanks and resumed reading. She was still sipping her tea. Someone was re-filling it. After a while she set aside the butter and just added sugar. Someone must have taken the former away, because it was gone when she moved to re-fill her glass again. She never did go back to adding it once she’d gone off it for the day, as they knew well. The sugar-tray still had its four cubes.
Dash’s predecessor had evidently vastly underestimated the true number of changelings, if the latest figures were to be believed. More and more refused to drop their disguises even when confronted, but that was apparently to be expected since they’d been undercover for longer. Still no progress on changeling-detection spells, though they were apparently confident in their non-magical techniques.
The new history textbooks were coming along well. Changes to volume one of the Complete History of the People’s Republic were minimal, but the portrayal of Luna in volume two was too sympathetic. The section on Twilight’s own early life was lacklustre, the author apparently having feared to add too much embellishment – likely engendered by Twilight’s own insistence upon relatively close adherence to the facts in other sections. She ended up re-writing most of the material on herself.
Her neck finally cramped, so she took a moment to walk around. The clock said it was five already. She walked through and asked Iron Chef to prepare dinner – something heavy. Smoking without a full stomach always left her feeling light-headed.
It was courgette burgers and hay fries. Almost too oily, but just what she needed. On a whim she had it with some whisky, though the flavours didn’t mesh well.
If she’d been more of a patriot she’d have had it with apple brandy, of course, since Celestia only knew how scarce barley was right now. Food-grain exports were heavy for the duration of the current development plan – another two years yet.
She briefly thought of the Griffons and their Four Year Plans. Spike claimed they had actually boasted that they could make more progress in four years than the People’s Republic could in five. Did they really have no domestic propaganda tools that didn’t play on anti-Republican sentiment?
She asked for the librarian to bring through the five best volumes on modern military organisation and took her glass of whisky through to the study. She stared out the window while she waited for the requisite information. The garden was coming along well, and what she could see of the sky beyond the high walls was still quite light.
All the same, the librarian lit the lamps before leaving.
The matter was more complicated than she’d suspected. She wasn’t sure Shining appreciated the ramifications of his meddling.
Someone brought her smoking jacket and helped her into it when the time came, also refilling her glass. She did so hate the way the smell clung to her coat otherwise.
“Did you read the comics in today’s papers?”
“Always, big brother.”
“I still don’t see what you see in them. How are you?”
They hugged. Applejack nodded to her.
“Well. Why are you cutting back the pigeon and dolphin corps?” He always seemed disappointed when she got to the point. Applejack appreciated it, looking out-of-place in her own jacket. “Let’s get business out of the way first,” she continued.
They sat. Applejack didn’t bother to conceal her contempt for Shining, who spoke first. “It’s a waste, Twi. They may be important for messaging and transport, but animals aren’t the backbone of the guard. Ponies are. The more pigeons and dolphins we get, the fewer troops we can have. That’s just how it is, Twi, and you know how tense things are getting with Griffonia and the others right now.”
Twilight smirked. “Griffonia seems at pains to remind us that they’re our very best friends.”
“They sure have a funny way of showing it. Whatever they’re telling Spike, war between us is inevitable and everyone knows it. Fluttershy’s literal pet projects are holding us back from the necessary preparations.”
“Alright. Ah, where are my manners? Cigars and whisky?”
They took them, Applejack with some reluctance. She knew better than most just how wasteful whisky was right now. For her own part Twilight decided to stick to her pipe. She found the feel of the spit-soaked paper against her mouth slightly uncomfortable at the best of times.
“Applejack?”
She knew what was being asked of her. “The pigeon and dolphin corps are already too small for the current size of the guard. Unless we enlarge them, we’ll be able to do even less.”
“I don’t recall needing more animals in the last war, Miss. We needed more ponies.”
Applejack looked to Twilight to reprimand her brother for his interruption. She shrugged. Applejack continued.
“Griffonia already has an army larger than ours during the Civil War, and after the expansion program the guard will be twice the size it was then. In fact, it will be even bigger than the Royal Guard was. But unless we increase the animal support services, our ability to transport bulk supplies and relay information and orders will be worse than theirs ever was. I was only a conscript, but Shining, weren’t you an officer back then? Don’t you remember the problems we had? No food for days at a time, then half a week’s worth of mouldy grain and half-rotten carrots all at once.”
“No. I was too busy trying not to die gloriously in combat in Chrysalis’ name, even when I was asleep or behind the front or on leave.”
Biting her tongue and ignoring him for the moment, she turned to Twilight. “And another thing. There’s been some talk of splitting up the Hydra corps into smaller units. Don’t get me wrong, a Hydra is a formidable creature. But it is not invincible, and splitting them up further is just asking for trouble. And while I would not be one for making my own job harder, there have been some rumours that we’ll be confining them to water-transport only?”
Twilight nodded. “Hoofachevsky’s studies said barge was the only efficient way of moving them, didn’t she? I would’ve thought you’d be all for it.”
“Well, yes. But Fluttershy-“
“-You might want to watch your words, Miss. She isn’t here to cover for your outspokenness anymore.”
She gritted her teeth at Shining’s interruption. “But Fluttershy always insisted that we needed to work at perfecting it if we wanted any chance of making deep advances. It always was a dream of hers, part of her Vision, as she called it. And last I checked, whatever talk we have of downsizing, there was no talk of abandoning her doctrine. Unless your brother here has an equally valid alternative.”
“I do, it just doesn’t need a fancy name. Received wisdom using tried-and-true methods can’t be compared to your friend’s flights of fancy, Miss Applejack. Your friend’s ideas were nice, but we tried that in the last war. Breaking through Griffon lines will be no easy or bloodless task, and it won’t be helped by holding most of our Hydras back.”
The argument was going in circles now. It was time to summarise. “Okay, thank you, both of you. Shining. You want the Guard to be harder-hitting. Correct?”
He nodded.
“Applejack. You want the Guard to be better-supported. Correct?”
She looked like she was about to say something.
“Applejack, my person is a free-speech zone. Whatever you say here is between you and me alone. Dash will never hear of it.”
She could almost see Applejack's mind change track. "Nothing about Fluttershy, though, please. That matter is out of my hands. She may be out of the party, and under investigation, but she'll be treated well. You have Dash's word."
Applejack still looked trouble, but she swallowed whatever it was she was ahout to say. No prizes for guessing if it was going to be about Fluttershy. Applejack sighed. “I’m not saying fighting forces aren’t important. But without enough support they are useless, and we already don’t have enough. I can’t stress that enough.”
“Okay. Thanks, Applejack. Let’s just leave that for now. Brandy, anyone?”
Author's Note
Fluttershy is a mix of the military theorist Mikhail Tukhachevsky (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikhail_Tukhachevsky) and Zhukov's former commanding officer, the mild-mannered cavalryman Konstantin Rokossovsky (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Konstantin_Rokossovsky).
Rainbow Dash is a mix of the purge-happy NKVD chiefs Nikolai Yezhov (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikolai_Yezhov) and his successor, the serial-rapist Lavrenty Beria (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lavrentiy_Beria).
Shining Armor is a mix of Stalin's Civil-War buddies Kliment Voroshilov (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kliment_Voroshilov) and Semyon Timoshenko (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semyon_Timoshenko).
Applejack is a mix of the military bureaucrats Aleksandr Vasilevsky (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aleksandr_Vasilevsky) and his deputy Nikolai Vatutin (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikolai_Fyodorovich_Vatutin).
Neither Vasilevsky nor Vatutin actually had anything to do with the expulsion of Tukhachevsky and Rokossovsky from the party and their subsequent arrest, the arrest of the former largely being Voroshilov's doing.
Many thanks to A.J. for his proofreading!
