alternatehistory.com


STANLY
Stanly lifted the rifle from off the ground, and slung it across his shoulder. More Siberians. What the hell was wrong with these people? It seemed like every other complaint in Port Arthur was dealing with some Siberian starting trouble. Their ability to drink ale as if it were water was astounding, but their penchant for bringing their arguments out into the streets was annoying. Stanly had broken up three fights, before ten o’clock, all of which dealt with Siberians.

Why the Tsar would stuff so many Cossacks and Siberians in this port was beyond Stanly. Though, it was not his place to question, he reminded himself. “The will of the Tsar… and his large Treasury.” Truth be told, Stanly was making a living off of yelling at belligerent people.

“Just keep a level head, no reason to be mad. People will be people, and after all, my job is not that bad.” Stanly had invented the rhyme when he was first assigned to Port Arthur. It was juvenile, true, but if it helped his anger issues, then it was worth while. He had grown frustrated over the constant head-busting, and would prefer to be anywhere else besides this wretched port, but orders were orders.

“Officer!”

The soldier turned to see a man with crusted blood on his forehead running towards him. His disheveled appearance could only mean one thing.

“Oh god dam- What is it?”

“Sir! I really respect your job and what you do and how you protect people and would not want to cause any harm-“ the man’s words rolled off his tongue almost as much as the smell of booze, “but, there is a quarrel erupting down by Ozer’s. I was hoping you could-“

“Out of my way.” Stanly knocked the drunkard over as he began the short jog over to the tiny inn. He did not want to deal with the idiot more than he had to. Ozer’s was next to the harbor- if any sailors were involved Stanly’s job just got a lot more complicated. As he rounded the final corner, he heard the shouts, and brought up his rifle. It was a precaution though, he was not forced to use it often. When he took in the scene though, the seriousness set in, and he placed his finger on the trigger; he could make out a large man with a broken bottle over his head, poised to strike a man flat on his back in the street. “You, halt! I will shoot!”

The large man turned to regard him, stuttered, and then turned back to the man in the street. He brought his arm down like an axe- Stanly pulled the trigger. The man with the bottle hit the ground, and the man on the street struggled to his feet. “Th-thank you!” A couple of bystanders quickly darted into the alley, but the man who had been lying in the street was not quick enough (or sober enough) to catch on. When Stanly made it over to check on the man he had shot, it was too late.

“Did you know this man?” He asked the survivor. Stanly viewed the unmoving corpse- his shot had went straight through the man’s cranium.
The other man’s eyes widened, and he turned to run, but Stanly shot his hand over to the man’s collar and pulled him down onto one knee. “No, no. What is your name?”

“I-Ivan Meglokavich, sir!”

“Well Ivan, did you know whoever this was?”

“N-no sir! Ill I know is he said he’s from some village in Siberia… Kustol? Or something like that?”

Stanly sighed, and released Ivan. “What started this dispute?”

“Why sir, he called my mother a prostitute and my father a pig fu-“

Stanly stopped the man, “Enough, you are going to have to come with me. My superior will like to know why I had to execute a man out in public.”

Footfalls on the cobblestone were quickly followed by a command to halt. Stanly turned to see two of his comrades standing near the end of the street, their own rifles out and aimed, “Relax, I was the one who fired. We got us a dead Siberian though.”

“Wait!” Ivan yelled, causing all three men to turn and look at him, “I remember his name, it was Rasputin! Yeah, Grigori Rasputin!”


X-X

No offense to Siberian people.
Top