"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok

[bluntpencil2001]

Ares kicked back on his chair across from Miroslav, slowly flicking through the draft document with interest and a critical eye.

"Looking good... although we should take something from the ancient Lenin, Mao and Guevara texts on guerrilla warfare particularly on the likes of agitating public opinion, putting the prime focus of our original work and research on how best to extract oneself from big, furball battles that we don't want involved in and the like.

You're an expert on the tactical retreat and the use of an area's geography in combat, that is what needs to be in here... we don't need to tell folk basic fighter techniques, such as 'how to dodge', we need to focus on our own, particular, asymmetrical style of warfare. Knowing when to run and when to fight. Et cetera, et cetera.

Right, aside from that, the language is a bit too... complex, I think. We need recruits to read this and understand it from square one. Keep the writings simple, then we can build complex strategies upon them."

The barmaid, becoming quite the expert on knowing exactly when to arrive, brought another couple of beers.

"On your tab, Captain?" she asked, slightly nervously. Ranking officers were known for being insane. She had heard Ares wasn't like your Britanovs, Frogs or McIntoshes, but it paid to be careful.

"Of course," replied Ares, in a laid-back tone. The Lieutenant Commander was putting in a lot of overtime, a beer was the least he could do.

"So, what do you think?"

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