The Russian Military Formation Rubikon (II)

In a prior essay we discussed the Russian military formation Rubikon, an advanced drone unit. Here we compare equivalent Ukrainian forces, and countermeasures to Rubikon.

The unmanned systems employed by Rubikon differ widely in form, complexity and purpose, yet they share a common doctrinal objective: to create a layered, persistent and adaptive drone presence across the battlefield. Understanding these systems requires considering not only their mechanical and electronic characteristics but also the Ukrainian designs that directly challenge them.

Rubikon’s principal strike capability lies in its family of FPV drones, many of which are derived from commercially available quadcopters or hexacopters but heavily modified for military use. Russian engineers working with the unit have increased payload capacity by enlarging frames, reinforcing motor mounts and installing high-thrust motors capable of carrying explosive charges significantly heavier than those typical of Ukrainian FPVs. These drones are often paired with analogue video systems, which, though susceptible to jamming, can transmit with greater latency tolerance at long range. Rubikon has also experimented with digital systems supplied through Russia’s ad hoc volunteer procurement networks, but such platforms remain relatively scarce. The overriding aim is to maximise explosive delivery with a stable, agile airframe capable of navigating trenches, defensive berms and tree lines.

Ukraine’s counter to these strike drones is double-edged: on the one hand, her own FPV units, such as those fielded by the Achilles battalion and the Unmanned Systems Forces, have achieved superior precision and manoeuvrability using lighter, faster airframes equipped with refined flight controllers. On the other hand, Ukraine employs increasingly sophisticated jamming systems—both vehicle-mounted and man-portable—to break the command links of Russian FPVs before they reach their targets. As a result Rubikon’s heavier designs, while potent, are not universally effective; they excel where Ukrainian EW coverage is thin but fare less well in heavily defended sectors.

One of Rubikon’s most distinctive technologies is the fibre optic tethered drone. This configuration replaces the radio frequency control and video links with a physical cable spooled from the operator’s position. The drone sends real-time video through the fibre and receives control inputs without emitting any detectable signal. This makes it resistant to jamming and effectively invisible to Ukrainian EW receivers. Such drones are typically light, electrically driven reconnaissance platforms with stabilised cameras, intended to remain airborne for extended periods to monitor Ukrainian movements or identify vulnerable positions.

Ukraine’s answer to these tethered systems is more complex. Since jamming is ineffective, Ukrainian forces attempt to destroy the drones kinetically, using small-arms fire, counter-FPV strikes or anti-drone rifles capable of disrupting onboard electronics even without interfering with the control link. The difficulty lies in detecting these drones in the first place, as they generally fly low, remain stationary or move slowly, and their cable is nearly invisible under combat conditions. Ukrainian innovation has therefore focused on improved acoustic detection, thermal imaging and automated visual-recognition systems to track such drones before they can adjust enemy artillery fire or assist in targeting Ukrainian operators.

Rubikon’s reconnaissance fleet is broad and includes fixed-wing aircraft with considerable endurance. These drones can patrol several kilometres beyond the front line, observing Ukrainian supply routes or artillery positions. They typically employ GPS-based navigation, stabilised cameras and occasionally lightweight synthetic-aperture radar modules. Their construction is often crude by Western standards—foam bodies, simple brushless motors and commercial-grade electronics—but they are cheap, ubiquitous and expendable. They are used not merely to spot targets but to map Ukrainian EW activity, allowing Rubikon detachments to identify safe corridors through which other drones, particularly FPVs, can operate.

Ukrainian equivalents, particularly the long-range fixed-wing reconnaissance units of the Army of Drones initiative, often surpass their Russian counterparts in sensor fidelity, flight controllers and endurance. Ukraine has benefited from access to Western components and from an extraordinarily deep culture of volunteer-led innovation. The result is a reconnaissance fleet that is more standardised, more reliable, and generally more sophisticated. Nevertheless Rubikon’s fixed-wing drones can be fielded en masse, which sometimes compensates for their technical inferiority through attrition and persistence.

In the realm of remote-mining drones, Rubikon makes use of modified quadcopters capable of releasing anti-personnel or anti-vehicle munitions at pre-selected GPS coordinates. These drones are less precise than FPVs but serve a different purpose: to shape the battlefield by disrupting Ukrainian manoeuvre paths, complicating logistics, and creating psychological pressure. The mines themselves are often simple, Soviet era designs rendered more lethal by clever placement rather than by mechanical sophistication.

Ukraine’s counter lies in her own remote-mining drones and demining innovations, including tethered dropping systems and specialised drones equipped with claws or netting for isolating or removing mines. However Ukrainian practice tends to emphasise offensive remote mining rather than defensive removal, meaning that adapting to Rubikon’s mine-layer drones requires the Ukrainian side to divert scarce reconnaissance and EW assets to keep vulnerable roads clear.

Electronic warfare systems are another important pillar of Rubikon’s technological arsenal. Portable jamming transmitters and vehicle-mounted jammers accompany the unit’s operators, creating protected bubbles through which Russian reconnaissance and FPV drones can operate with reduced risk of Ukrainian interference. Although Russian EW infrastructure is generally distributed unevenly across the frontline, Rubikon enjoys privileged access to the most modern versions of these systems. They often serve to screen Russian infantry movements or obscure the massing of armour.

Ukraine’s EW capabilities remain among the strongest in the world at the tactical level, owing to both domestic innovation and extensive Western assistance. Counter-jamming tactics, adaptive frequency-hopping and dual-link control systems allow many Ukrainian drones to survive in contested environments. Yet Rubikon’s EW coverage, especially when paired with tethered drones, produces an operational picture that is difficult for Ukraine to penetrate in certain sectors.

Finally, Rubikon has pursued early experimentation with unmanned maritime and sub-surface vehicles. These are small, rudimentary craft compared with Ukraine’s accomplished maritime drone fleet, which has struck Russian naval assets in Sevastopol, Novorossiysk and the Kerch Strait with far-reaching strategic consequences. Russia’s experimental devices tend to be defensive or observational, intended to detect Ukrainian marine drones rather than conduct deep-strike operations. Nonetheless their existence signals an awareness within Rubikon that future warfare will span land, air and sea in the unmanned domain, and that Russia must eventually match Ukraine’s success in naval drone warfare.

Rubikon’s unmanned systems demonstrate a serious and increasingly coordinated effort by Russia to develop an integrated drone system. Their Ukrainian counterparts, however, retain the advantage in tactical refinement, operator skill and breadth of innovation. Ukraine’s capacity for rapid civil-military technological adaptation remains unmatched, yet Rubikon has shortened the gap sufficiently to force Ukraine into continuous counter-innovation. The resulting technological contest is defining the modern battlefield and is likely to shape the future of European security for decades to come.

Countermeasures to Rubikon

Any assessment of Rubikon’s rising competence must be matched by a sober evaluation of how Ukraine and her Western partners may neutralise or surpass the unit’s capabilities. Rubikon’s strength lies not only in individual devices but in the integration of reconnaissance, strike and electronic warfare into a coherent whole. Effective countermeasures must therefore be systemic rather than purely tactical; they should address Rubikon’s networks, supply chains, training pipelines and operational doctrine as much as the drones themselves.

The first and most immediate line of defence is electronic warfare. Ukraine has already fielded a dense patchwork of static, vehicle-mounted and man-portable jammers that deny or degrade radio-frequency links used by Russian FPVs and reconnaissance drones. Against conventional radio-controlled systems, this remains the most efficient means of protection. The key challenge is coverage and prioritisation. Rubikon’s detachments typically probe for gaps in Ukrainian EW umbrellas, seeking to exploit unprotected flanks, river crossings or rural roads. One logical countermeasure is the creation of more elastic, mobile EW teams, capable of moving rapidly in response to detected Rubikon activity and of reshaping the electromagnetic environment on short notice.

Western assistance can enhance this further by providing modular EW kits designed specifically to counter Russian frequencies and waveforms. These kits might integrate automatically with Ukrainian command networks, enabling centralised monitoring of EW performance and the rapid retasking of jammers to sectors where Rubikon is most active. It is also possible to introduce more subtle tools: rather than brute-force jamming, Ukrainian systems could mimic Russian control signals, inject false commands or corrupt video feeds. Such measures would not merely deny Rubikon’s operators a clear picture but potentially induce them to attack decoys or withdraw under the illusion of danger.

The second domain of countermeasures is kinetic air defence against small drones. Traditional surface-to-air missiles are poorly suited to dealing with swarms of low-cost FPVs, both economically and technically. Instead Ukraine and her partners must continue to expand layered short-range defences comprising anti-drone rifles, automatic cannon with airburst munitions and, increasingly, directed-energy systems. Lasers and high-power microwave devices, once the preserve of speculative research, are moving steadily towards operational viability. Properly deployed, they can neutralise small drones at low marginal cost, which is critical if Ukraine is to withstand the volume of unmanned platforms Rubikon might eventually field.

Nevertheless even the most sophisticated hardware is ineffective without integration. Counter-drone systems must be networked into a unified air picture, combining radar, acoustic sensors, optical tracking and electronic detection. Western states can assist by supplying not only individual sensors but the software architectures that fuse these feeds into a coherent map of the low-altitude battlespace. Rubikon’s advantage often lies in its ability to operate in the seams between Ukrainian systems; Ukraine’s answer is therefore to reduce those seams through better situational awareness.

In confronting tethered, fibre-optic drones, which are resistant to conventional jamming, Ukraine must rely upon detection and physical destruction. Here, Western support might focus on improving sensor fusion, particularly in the thermal and acoustic domains. Tethered drones tend to operate at modest altitudes and may hover for extended periods. Automated detection software trained on their distinct visual and acoustic signatures could alert Ukrainian units to their presence even when human observers might miss them. Once detected, a variety of kinetic solutions become available, including counter-FPV strikes, sniper fire, automatic weapons with proximity fuses, or even small artillery rounds directed by Ukraine’s own drones.

Another crucial set of countermeasures concerns concealment, deception and the manipulation of Rubikon’s targeting cycle. Unmanned systems rely on identifying patterns: vehicle convoys on predictable routes, antennas that betray command posts and recurring infrastructure usage. By varying routes, employing decoy vehicles and antennae, and shifting logistical movements in time and space, Ukraine can reduce Rubikon’s efficiency. Western partners can assist with inexpensive decoy systems, including inflatable or wooden mock-ups of artillery, radar and armoured vehicles, designed to attract FPV strikes and waste Russian resources. If Rubikon is compelled routinely to expend high-value drones against decoys, its operational tempo will diminish and its psychological advantage will be blunted.

At the higher end of the spectrum, cyber operations offer an additional avenue. Rubikon’s systems, like all complex unmanned architectures, depend upon software, data links and ground-control stations. Penetrating the networks that support these devices could yield intelligence on deployment plans, performance metrics and vulnerabilities. In the best case, well-executed cyber measures might corrupt firmware updates, disrupt manufacturing processes or compromise training simulators, thereby degrading the quality of Rubikon’s entire fleet. Such operations are politically sensitive and technically demanding, but Western states with advanced cyber capabilities are well placed to explore them in close coordination with Ukraine.

Alongside these technical approaches, one must consider industrial and logistical countermeasures. Rubikon’s progress is underpinned by access to specific components: microchips, cameras, flight controllers, high-efficiency electric motors and batteries. Much of this material is imported covertly via third countries or procured from the grey market. Tightening sanctions enforcement on dual-use goods, improving end-user verification, and targeting the intermediaries who facilitate Russia’s drone procurement can constrain Rubikon’s capacity to expand. Western export-control regimes must become more agile, guided by detailed intelligence on the precise component types appearing in captured Russian drones.

Ukraine can complement these efforts by systematically dismantling and analysing every downed Rubikon drone, building a comprehensive library of components and supply routes. This work is already under way, but it would benefit from greater institutional support, dedicated forensic laboratories and formal channels for sharing findings with Western enforcement agencies. Each captured flight controller or camera module may tell a story about how it entered Russia, who supplied it, and how that pathway might be interrupted.

Finally, there is the doctrinal and training dimension. To counter Rubikon effectively, Ukraine must continue to cultivate doctrine that treats drones and counter-drones as integral elements of combined arms warfare, not as isolated capacities. Training for infantry, artillery and armoured crews should routinely incorporate drills for operating under ubiquitous drone observation and attack. Western assistance in this field may consist of joint exercises, doctrinal exchanges, and simulation environments in which Ukrainian officers can experiment with novel tactics against realistic representations of Rubikon’s methods.

The cumulative effect of these countermeasures is not to render Rubikon irrelevant but to contain and eventually outpace her. The contest between Rubikon and Ukraine’s unmanned formations is dynamic; each innovation by one side prompts a response by the other. For Ukraine and her supporters, the strategic objective is to ensure that this innovation cycle consistently favours the defence of Ukrainian territory and the gradual attrition of Russia’s offensive potential. Achieving that outcome will require continued investment, rigorous analysis of enemy systems, and an unrelenting commitment to staying one step ahead in the most rapidly evolving domain of contemporary warfare.