It started on the steppes. The Moskali - although the Russians were never called that to their faces - had spent a century trying to 'tame' and 'civilize' the wild people of the East, from the unending ocean of grass to the shores of Lake Baikal to the peaks of the Altai and the volcanoes of Kamchatka. The soul of Tungustan was of no use to them. They seduced the Buryats and the Kalmyks and the Tuvans and the Tatars into their cities, stripped them of their long hair and their mustaches and their knives and their bright moon and their lonely wind and simple, happy lives, and sent them to work in farms and factories and offices.
Some went, of course - the soul of Tungustan, for all its poetic majesty, also involved going hungry, eating raw meat, the occasional arrow to the gut, and a near-constant bombardment of horse feces. But how do they ever look at themselves in the mirror (or, as the case may be, in a still lake)" How do they come across any of the hundreds of thousands of little reminders, be it a little music or the taste of food or just the memories of someone older then yourself, and for just a moment remember Temujin standing the world, and Kublai Khan in his pleasure palace, and the infinite wealth of the Silk Road, and remember their own ancestors galloping free, free across the steppes, the terror of a thousand nations, from Goryeo in the east and Da Viet in the South all the way west to Bucuresti . . .
And then spend 10 hours as a clerk in a stationary store" When you conjure those images into your mind, how do you look them in the eyes"
Maidar Bira didn't ever have to think about it. Even in the 2030s, there were still communities of people living the Old Way. He was born to one of them, in a district called Pribaykalsky. He didn't learn Russian until he was a teenager - his mother's milk was the pure incarnate poetry of the Mongol Tongue. As a man, he was strong and proficient, as a wrestler, horseman, and even poet. He lived this life until he was 25, at which point the situation changed. His first of many thousands of sins was ambition; he wanted more, and life in a factory wouldn't give it to him any more than life on the steppes. So he joined the army, not as an enlistee but as an officer. He wouldn't admit it, even in private, but he saw himself as a modern-day Genghis Khan. His army would ride tanks instead of horses, and the lands he conquered wouldn't strictly be his, but he was still going to stand astride the world.
It is tempting to lump all of the conflicts between 2058 and 2078 as part of a single 'World War 3' or 'Sino-Soviet War,' but that's simply not the case - the proxy wars started as early as 2036, in Angola, and the hot war between the two countries didn't begin until 2069. His war began in 2052, in Mexico - this time it was the rebels who were Soviet-supported and the existing government that answered to the Chinese. (You may ask, aside from the different spheres, was there really a difference between the ways the two countries did things" The causes of their division are complex, but the simplest way to put it is that the Soviets were more militaristic and thus better at war, and the Chinese were more bureaucratic and better at peace.)
Maidar Bira excelled, of course. He was perfect for the job - he was commanding, charismatic, devoted to his men, and utterly callous to the people his army stepped on. Despite his obvious proficiency, he was blocked from promotions. While he still considers this due to his origins, the real reason had more to do with his rather sadistic tendancies as a butcher of the first order. Still, while his mannerisms may have stalled his advancement, they were far from atypical in the army and his ability to play political games kept him from being removed entirely.
War with China loomed closer and closer. The steppes would have to be militarized - Moscow had long suspected that the ethnic communities there were more loyal to their racial brothers in China than to their government in Moscow. So a drive went up to recruit as many regiments as possible from the Siberian and Far Eastern provinces, as well as to establish a greater state of military preparedness there. The 31st regiment was raised from Ulan-Ude, and Maidar Bira, having the appropriate personal and ethnic qualities, was dispatched to be one of its officers.
The vast majority of Buryats had been 'tamed,' so to speak - they had adapted to urban, civilized life. They were no more soldierly than anybody else, despite many of them being quite literally descended from Genghis Khan. To them, Bira - as well as other officers like him - was nothing short of a God - a true man, a wild man, a khan. He fed them mythology - mythology that he believed - about the glory of warfare, of the Old Way, and the re-discovery of their martial values and valor. He lived their dream and shared it with them.
The 31st's first assignment was Iran. Lt. Bira demonstrated his talents adequately there - his strategic mind, his cool under fire, his boundless charisma, and of course his unlimited capacity for atrocities. And under his influence, his men took to them as well, gleefully - the 31st, especially the part under his administration, was an engine for death of the highest order, at times descending to nothing more than mechanized terrorism against conquered people. Death squads, poison gas, napalm, mass graves, prison camps that were nothing more than sepulchers - he followed his orders dutifully and improvised where he could. It wasn't any simple cruelty, or a love of seeing people in pain. He was intoxicated by having power and even moreso he loved using it on others - he was known in his platoon and later his whole division for his acts of largess. After the finished pacification of Pakistan, he was finally - after about 12 years - promoted to the rank of Captain. This was 2065. From then on, his rise was meteoric.
In 2077, Maidar Bira - at the time Colonel Bira, leader of the whole 31st Motorized Rifles RKKA Regiment, which had become under him known as the Sons of Temujin - was hit by a sniper's bullet through the eye in Mongolia and killed instantly. He had been serving in the army for 25 years and had just a few weeks past recieved his medal for such.
He was reborn in Rhydin. By then already an old man, he survived on charity as a storyteller for several years. The life was hard and it aged him dramatically, but he was content - he figured that he was in the afterlife and there was nothing more to it. In 2080, however (it is now 2087 in his old world) he discovered other people who had died in his world and were reborn in his. Many of them were Red Army soldiers. The life of peace, he figured then, was no good for him - his destiny was war!
Eventually, he began a new quest - to round up the old members of his battalion. Seeing as they tend to stick out, it's not a particularly hard task. They were his sons, his most loyal and loving followers - his mission was to rescue them from whatever mundane life they were living here, if they were living here, and restore them to the life they deserve. So far, he has found lots of them. He has come to Rhydin City now to find his favorite son, the one who was at his side during his crucible. He has come to find Iskandorj.
Some went, of course - the soul of Tungustan, for all its poetic majesty, also involved going hungry, eating raw meat, the occasional arrow to the gut, and a near-constant bombardment of horse feces. But how do they ever look at themselves in the mirror (or, as the case may be, in a still lake)" How do they come across any of the hundreds of thousands of little reminders, be it a little music or the taste of food or just the memories of someone older then yourself, and for just a moment remember Temujin standing the world, and Kublai Khan in his pleasure palace, and the infinite wealth of the Silk Road, and remember their own ancestors galloping free, free across the steppes, the terror of a thousand nations, from Goryeo in the east and Da Viet in the South all the way west to Bucuresti . . .
And then spend 10 hours as a clerk in a stationary store" When you conjure those images into your mind, how do you look them in the eyes"
Maidar Bira didn't ever have to think about it. Even in the 2030s, there were still communities of people living the Old Way. He was born to one of them, in a district called Pribaykalsky. He didn't learn Russian until he was a teenager - his mother's milk was the pure incarnate poetry of the Mongol Tongue. As a man, he was strong and proficient, as a wrestler, horseman, and even poet. He lived this life until he was 25, at which point the situation changed. His first of many thousands of sins was ambition; he wanted more, and life in a factory wouldn't give it to him any more than life on the steppes. So he joined the army, not as an enlistee but as an officer. He wouldn't admit it, even in private, but he saw himself as a modern-day Genghis Khan. His army would ride tanks instead of horses, and the lands he conquered wouldn't strictly be his, but he was still going to stand astride the world.
It is tempting to lump all of the conflicts between 2058 and 2078 as part of a single 'World War 3' or 'Sino-Soviet War,' but that's simply not the case - the proxy wars started as early as 2036, in Angola, and the hot war between the two countries didn't begin until 2069. His war began in 2052, in Mexico - this time it was the rebels who were Soviet-supported and the existing government that answered to the Chinese. (You may ask, aside from the different spheres, was there really a difference between the ways the two countries did things" The causes of their division are complex, but the simplest way to put it is that the Soviets were more militaristic and thus better at war, and the Chinese were more bureaucratic and better at peace.)
Maidar Bira excelled, of course. He was perfect for the job - he was commanding, charismatic, devoted to his men, and utterly callous to the people his army stepped on. Despite his obvious proficiency, he was blocked from promotions. While he still considers this due to his origins, the real reason had more to do with his rather sadistic tendancies as a butcher of the first order. Still, while his mannerisms may have stalled his advancement, they were far from atypical in the army and his ability to play political games kept him from being removed entirely.
War with China loomed closer and closer. The steppes would have to be militarized - Moscow had long suspected that the ethnic communities there were more loyal to their racial brothers in China than to their government in Moscow. So a drive went up to recruit as many regiments as possible from the Siberian and Far Eastern provinces, as well as to establish a greater state of military preparedness there. The 31st regiment was raised from Ulan-Ude, and Maidar Bira, having the appropriate personal and ethnic qualities, was dispatched to be one of its officers.
The vast majority of Buryats had been 'tamed,' so to speak - they had adapted to urban, civilized life. They were no more soldierly than anybody else, despite many of them being quite literally descended from Genghis Khan. To them, Bira - as well as other officers like him - was nothing short of a God - a true man, a wild man, a khan. He fed them mythology - mythology that he believed - about the glory of warfare, of the Old Way, and the re-discovery of their martial values and valor. He lived their dream and shared it with them.
The 31st's first assignment was Iran. Lt. Bira demonstrated his talents adequately there - his strategic mind, his cool under fire, his boundless charisma, and of course his unlimited capacity for atrocities. And under his influence, his men took to them as well, gleefully - the 31st, especially the part under his administration, was an engine for death of the highest order, at times descending to nothing more than mechanized terrorism against conquered people. Death squads, poison gas, napalm, mass graves, prison camps that were nothing more than sepulchers - he followed his orders dutifully and improvised where he could. It wasn't any simple cruelty, or a love of seeing people in pain. He was intoxicated by having power and even moreso he loved using it on others - he was known in his platoon and later his whole division for his acts of largess. After the finished pacification of Pakistan, he was finally - after about 12 years - promoted to the rank of Captain. This was 2065. From then on, his rise was meteoric.
In 2077, Maidar Bira - at the time Colonel Bira, leader of the whole 31st Motorized Rifles RKKA Regiment, which had become under him known as the Sons of Temujin - was hit by a sniper's bullet through the eye in Mongolia and killed instantly. He had been serving in the army for 25 years and had just a few weeks past recieved his medal for such.
He was reborn in Rhydin. By then already an old man, he survived on charity as a storyteller for several years. The life was hard and it aged him dramatically, but he was content - he figured that he was in the afterlife and there was nothing more to it. In 2080, however (it is now 2087 in his old world) he discovered other people who had died in his world and were reborn in his. Many of them were Red Army soldiers. The life of peace, he figured then, was no good for him - his destiny was war!
Eventually, he began a new quest - to round up the old members of his battalion. Seeing as they tend to stick out, it's not a particularly hard task. They were his sons, his most loyal and loving followers - his mission was to rescue them from whatever mundane life they were living here, if they were living here, and restore them to the life they deserve. So far, he has found lots of them. He has come to Rhydin City now to find his favorite son, the one who was at his side during his crucible. He has come to find Iskandorj.