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[color=Silver]	A shudder in his carriage seat lunged the man awake. It was a surprising fact that he'd managed to find some sort of position that allowed such slumbers as such. He must have been out for a while, as the scenery outside the carriage's glass windows was far different to the previous one. Trees that he had only seen once in books and studying materials in schools was now being brought to life before his very eyes. It kind of made him feel like a child discovering Siberia for the first time. It was a vast world outside the confinement of the train, one that kept him on his toes at all periods of scanning. Flocks of birds soared overhead whilst strange forests of heat and moist were seen over the horizon, one that made him feel insignificant for once, like a traveler heading into the holy lands of the olden world.

	Looking around his room, Aleyev noticed that he was still alone. It was quite a luxurious cabin that Aytre had to offer, or whoever was running the show. From all he knew, Project 914 was still much of a mystery to himself. The train had made many stops on the way, where supposed members of the team were picked up. However, Aleyev was one of the first onto the train, and by not leaving his cabin and only receiving what officers offered him from its doorway he had no visual idea of who was joining their ranks. Small Russian voices, as well as other accents that weren't distinguishable at first, all came into a close proximity before shutting themselves away in cabins of their own throughout the whole journey. For days, they'd been travelling, and Aleyev had been restricted to the inside of his [i]living space[/i]. The only time he could make conversation was when already acquainted members of staff entered his room to fill out details, ask for biographical experiences on the frontline and filling out forms of the unknown about his appearance, tone of voice and general persona. All of them were quiet in their approach but did give him small amounts of community when they paid their visits. Several other supposed members of the Squad were allowed to walk amongst one another and talk to them during the trip, but Aleyev was isolated by 90% of the time he spent on the train. There were only a few ideas going around as to why they decided such a strange isolation, including Aleyev predicting his time spent in the "Veterans of Leningrad" rehabilitation facility made them somewhat conscious of his behavior. It was funny, though, thinking that him being alone in a room would get them results. Ever since the incident at Leningrad, he spent many days alone, crawling through the snow and rubble of a once glorious city without a single person to keep him company. It was a cycle of repetition. Friends and dead friends, coming and going. Maybe Squad 914 was going to be the same thing? He hoped otherwise...

	Squad 914...The project, as others had called it. Aytre was a renowned developer for the URD who had spent his life using documents from all over the world to construct equipment of his own. Spain, Germany, Italy and Britain, all of these had been useful [i]providers[/i] for his mechanisms. His motives and methods were entirely questionable and some found the man to be amongst the strangest of figures throughout the world; even students and apprentices of him had spent years still trying to discover what his true intentions were and how he achieved such greatness without failure. Having him lead such a daring project such as this was questionable by most, but it seemed that Stalin was on board with whatever odd plans he had. His unorthodox methods left a queasy settlement inside Aleyev's gut. A part of him wondered what he'd really gotten himself into. Was this some ruthless plan to sacrifice those who were deemed unfit for service? Time could only tell, and time was nearing its final point.

	A loud screech placed itself all around him, hurting his ears slightly as the train grinded to a halt. It wasn't a painful lunge forward at all, and it was smooth in motion, but the sound was quite agonising knowing that his window was left ajar on a latch. Slowly, he waited for a complete stop before opening his eyes and looking out the window to study his surroundings. Once again, the beautiful Indian landscape was taking his breath away with every passing glance, but he remained vigilant on the more pressing matters. On the sides of their train, there was no train station in sight, no platform or connectivity to depart on. Along the rocky floors and between where the train was steering itself, a few uniformed officers, all of Russian figure, started to bang against the sides of the carriages and yell for its occupants to disband and disperse slowly where they were exiting. If anything, it felt more like a luxury trip to a gulag, but Aleyev tried to remain positive by their intentions.[/color]

[color=Red][b]"Сукин сын..."[/b][/color] [color=silver]He let his mutters leave his mouth as he stood up and wandered for the doorway to his cabin. Most of the occupants must have already reached the exits as only a few officers were left in the corridors, rushing out those he could not catch the faces of. To his right, another officer stared at him with rather beady eyes whilst remaining in the upmost silence possible.[/color] [color=red][b]"Sir, is this our destination? Are we there yet?"[/b][/color]

[color=Orange][b]"You sound like a child when you ask questions like that, Yanovich. But no, we're just collecting new batches of coal to burn from some of our contracts here. I'd say we are less than a day away from our true objective, though."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]In comparison to some of the other officers within the Red Army, he seemed rather pleasant for his status above the rest. Most were quite hungry with power and ensured that their troops were in line at all costs. The famous saying [i]Not one step back[/i] was a Russian term after all. Well, it was more of an order than any saying.[/color]

[color=Silver]	Outside, the air was fresh and warm, warmer than any he'd felt before. It was refreshing in comparison to the many nights and hours he'd spent in the winters of Siberia and frontlines of Kursk. Obviously there was a downtime for the winter throughout the mid-year months, but Aleyev could never match those summers to those here in the British Raj. At least the officers had handed him a lot thinner and shorter clothing in comparison to the large wraps he usually wore. But as soon as the embrace of the heat hit him, he drew his attention away from the world for just a minute. Being the last one out of the train, he had a view like no other, seeing all of those who were in similar positions as he all gathered in one large batch. Squad 914, supposedly.

	The selection was so sporadic to what his expectations had him believe. There were men and women of all nationalities seemingly dotted around every patch of soil. He saw those of the Asian descent, or rather more Southern-Eastern descent, who were possibly from the Chinese homeland or French occupied Indochina. The majority was obviously filled with Russians of the sort, but there was still a fair number of ethnic differences between those he saw. And as the folklore said, some of the women around them were probably too beautiful to be considered fully safe amongst the seas of wore-torn males. But if it were for Aleyev, he was more respectful of their appearance and general participation. Every able hand was a step in the right direction, providing they wanted to be there and had a goal of their own. Many were from countries that had fallen to the Japanese and German pursuit of the East, so it made sense that someone pulling the strings around the area would have easily encouraged their support. But then again, Atyre did state that they were looking for some of the most promising and talented individuals to recruit them. Maybe Aleyev's will to survive and protect his comrades was his [i]talent[/i] that had peaked their interest, but other than that he was but a normal man trying to make his way through chaos.

	An officer, one of the many unfamiliar ones, stood on top of a cargo crate and began to yell out the names of some Russian and European men. They were mostly bearded and more muscular than the average man, and it made sense why they were called. Large crates of coal needed to be hoisted into the train's driving mechanisms so they could make the last leg of the journey. But once those were called, he gave a minor update to the dumbfounded soldiers and guerrillas standing around.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"Men and Women of Project 914, please remain patient. You will be briefed once we arrive at our location far late into the night. We will reload the train shortly."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]And with that, those who were called to help began to lift such equipment. Aleyev didn't know why [i]all[/i] of them had to be taken off the train for them to do so, but it might of been for them to have as many hands on deck as they would need. That being said, many of the idle troops were beginning to talk to one another, and so Aleyev obviously found himself looking for such conversation too. He'd been dying to speak words other than his mind's own. And that was when he saw her, standing towards the edges of the group. She looked different, far different, in comparison to the many other females of the group as she wore a uniform of another nationality, one from the other end of European soil. With blonde hair and a strange gaze, he dragged himself over as his first choice of occupation. Seeing as she was alone at that current minute, it was the best chance he would get at simply talking to someone.[/color]

[color=red][b]"I imagine we are in the same boat, or would I be wrong in implying that?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]With his instincts kicking in, he slowly raised a firm hand to provoke a handshake. Making allies early on was the key to getting out alive, perhaps.[/color] [color=red][b]"Aleyev Yanovich. I saw the large strings of ethnic groups here, but yours was a bit too hard to distinguish. How'd you end up here?"[/b][/color]

[sub][@Sola][/sub]