It’s 0630.

 

...

 

It’s 0630. 

 

...

 

The base is beginning to stir. Sentinels...likely making preparations for the Changing of the Guard. 

 

Papasha’s already up and about. At the Northern Checkpoint, checking on their radio. Might already be on the way back with SVD and SV-98. Ingram and HK416...at Town Square. Ingram’s floored by her own dummy. She’s getting close to HK416’s target.

 

…

 

Sun’s so high up. Can feel its radiance...even in the shades. As though it’s already the afternoon.

 

SVD and SV-98...fifteen minutes away from the Church. 

 

...

 

I do not know why I decided to be here and not...in the command room. Force of habit, I suppose?

 

…

 

I must really miss our scouts if I am so willing to be here waiting for them to return. Tolerating the numbness, the dissonance of walking without feeling my legs. Like...floating. 

 

Just...had to be outside to greet them when they return. 

 

This isn’t even the Nest’s courtyard, but...close enough.

 

…

 

The helos are coming. Talk again.

 

​

0640

​

A pink streak bolted out of the opened hatch under cover of the dust cloud. “Papasha! Papasha!” she cried, facing every conceivable direction. “Where are you, Papasha?” After a moment of non-reply, she then darted towards my position. “Tovarisch! Where did you hide Papasha?” she demanded. 

 

“Introduce yourself properly to the Kommandant, Sudaev!” ordered one of the two silver-haired T-Dolls who had followed after her.

 

“Muuuuuu!” Sudaev puffed her cheek. She took a moment to look about my person. As soon as her eyes fell upon my right sleeve, she sprung up straight and threw a salute. “PPS-43! I’ll be serving under you from now on, Tovarisch Kommandir!” She then swiftly dropped her arm and fiercely demanded, “Now bring out Papasha!”

 

A yawn from behind. “What’s with all that shouting?” Skorpion groggily asked as she descended the steps, with Sturmgewehr close behind. Sudaev immediately darted towards her. She seized Skorpion by her jacket’s collar. 

 

“Skorpion!” Sudaev cried.

 

“Wha...Stalin?” Skorpion stuttered.

 

Sudaev shook her violently. “Where did you hide Papasha?” She paused for a moment before shouting again, “And stop calling me Stalin!” 

 

“She insisted on coming here.” The silver-haired T-Doll informed as she stepped forward. Her green eyes had slit pupils, like a cat’s. Her lips remained fixed in a stern frown. She saluted, “MG5.” She then motioned towards the other silver-haired T-Doll who had accompanied her. “This is my Schwester, MG…”

 

“Cetin! Get down!” 

 

A yellow blur brushed past my false arm. A comet uprooted MG5’s sister. Skorpion and her landed three paces back with a loud thud, throwing up a cloud of dust.

 

“Skorpion!” MG5 barked, her cheeks flushed. “What are you doing? Get off my Schwester!”

 

Skorpion lifted herself slightly over the silver-haired doll, her hands pressing against the doll’s face. “She’s got yellow eyes!” she announced urgently. “Cetin! She’s got yellow eyes!”

​

Yellow-Eyes…silent...mockingly still.

​

“How does this explain your behaviour, Skorpion?” MG5 demanded. 

 

“Commander doesn’t react well to dolls with yellow eyes.” M14 stood behind the helicopter’s nose, eyes directed towards the vehicle’s rear landing gear. “He can’t look us in the eye. Something bad will happen to him if he does.” 

 

“Skorpion. Get off her.”

 

“But!” Skorpion replied in half-panic.

 

“Please.”

 

Skorpion puffed her cheek. “Fiiiiine…” she whined as she got off the lying T-Doll. Though freed from Skorpion’s weight, the T-Doll remained still for about a minute.

 

“...MG4…” MG5 stepped towards her, sounding concerned.

 

“It’s okay, Schwester,” replied MG4 as she tucked her legs back and shakily pushed herself up. She brushed away the dust dirtying her oversized shirt and stood at attention while staring at the ground. “M...MG4…” 

 

“MG4…” said MG5 softly.

 

“It’s okay, Schwester. I will just be over there.” MG4 departed for one of the huts.

 

MG5 sighed. “Kommandant,” she started. “We are sent here under short notice to assist the defence of your base camp and to deliver this.” She pulled out a black triangular prism canister about the length of her waist.

 

“URAAAAA!” Sudaev had darted away from the Church’s steps towards the returning SVD, SV-98 and Papasha, past the helicopter. “Su...Sudaev!” Papasha cried in shock, just as the Sudaev started raining hammer-blows onto her. “URAAAAA!”

 

“Morning, Fox.” Pierre staggered towards us from a house to my eleven o’clock. 

 

“Morning.” He was carrying a steaming mug. “You weren’t in the Mess Hall.”

 

“Oh,” the Tech Foreman raised his mug and his brow, “This? It’s instant coffee.” He took a sip, then lowered his cup. “I’ll get some real coffee, don’t you worry.”

 

“...I see.” 

 

“So, who is the pretty lady?” 

 

“MG5,” replied the T-Doll, expressionless despite the flattery.

 

“Ah. Nice to meet you. I’m Pierre. Tech Foreman,” he extended his hand. 

 

She replied with a frigid stare. 

 

“Quite the ice queen, isn’t she?” he commented as he lowered his hand. Noting the canister in her grasp, he inquired, “Oh, is that from 16Lab?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” MG5 replied.

 

Pierre glanced at the both of us, MG5 first, then myself. He lowered his mug. “Grapevine has it 16Lab’s been working on some kind of next-generation support drone. I think this is it.” He then turned towards MG5. “Is this it, MG5?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, with nary a gesture. “My instructions are to courier this to the Kommandant. It is not my place to ask or to attempt ascertaining the package’s identity.”

 

Pierre sipped on his mug again. He shot me a glance, lowered his cup and explained, “Grapevine mentioned the drone folding up for easy-carry.” He drank his coffee again. “This looks like it. Can I see it?”

 

MG5 glared in reply to his query. “For the Kommandant’s eyes only. HQ’s orders.” 

 

Palms withdrew the moment they touched its metallic surface. Its ends had folded ninety degrees and generated a tremendous amount of heat. Its four side plates then twisted down and extended out. Its camera at the centre then lit up. 

 

“Woah,” Skorpion uttered. “Cool.” 

 

A blue glow emitted from above the drone’s camera unit, creating a projection of a slovenly-dressed woman. Coat slid off a shoulder, dishevelled turfed hair, ring around eyes.

 

“Ah...you must be the rumoured Commander. Pleased to meet you.” Her tone did not carry the enthusiasm of her words.

 

“Wait a minute. Are we actually talking to the Persica?” Pierre’s jaw was half-open, his eyes wide. He was in awe.  

​

Persica cracked a grin. “That’s right. Persica. 16Lab researcher.” The turfs on her cranium...perked...stood up straight. Triangular...striped…

 

...cat ears?

 

“Head researcher.” Blink. Pierre had leaned forward, close to my ear. He was frowning. His tone was that of reverence and admonishment. “Fox, behave yourself.” 

 

“...What does an IOP subsidiary scientist want with us?”

 

“16Lab’s not some subsidiary!” Pierre’s snapped urgently, his gaze an intense glare. He spoke as though I had blasphemed. “That research division is the very reason why we even have our T-Dolls!”

 

“...So she is to be blamed for Skorpion’s disobedience.”

 

A light punch on my true arm. Skorpion had puffed her cheek and glared at me with her single eye. “That one’s your fault!” she scolded. “If you had treated us right from the start, none of that would have happened!” 

 

Pierre spilt some of his coffee as he stifled his chuckle. 

 

“Your mission is to retrieve some research data from these coordinates.” 

 

A brief silence. The lungs paused. Breaths held. Persica was unresponsive. Unfocused eyes, as though she was staring past us. 

 

“Find someone else.” The lungs exhaled, the throat felt dry. “We have our own matters to attend to.”

 

The cat ears perked again. The eyes refocused. She smirked, “What if I provide M4A1’s location in exchange?”

 

 

​

0715

 

Skorpion made a face. Closed eye, knitted brow, upper lip raised, clenched teeth exposed. She emitted a constipated sound before resuming sucking on the beige bag, which she had clutched so tightly its contents had evacuated onto the dusty ground. 

 

It was an odourless grey sludge. 

 

“Would it kill the manufacturer to at least flavour the MRE?” said Ingram, as she crumpled her MRE bag. She was glaring at Pierre.

 

“Don’t look at me,” Pierre shrugged. “I’m just a technician.”

 

“Skorpion, stop making that face,” Sturmgewehr chided as she dabbed Skorpion’s cheek with a handkerchief. “You should follow my example,” she continued before sucking on her own bag. She raised her head, craned her neck and scrunched up her face as though fighting a gag reflex. 

 

“Kommandant,” started MG5 sternly. “I must protest against holding a strategic meeting in the Mess Hall.” She did not open her MRE bag.

 

“Command room isn’t spacious enough to hold this briefing.”

 

“You have invited too many irrelevant personnel,” she criticised.

 

“Leave him alone,” Lev said. He then took another bite off his MRE pack. His expression was neutral as he chewed up the portion and swallowed it. “He hasn’t sorted out all the echelons and knowing him, he’s going to brief us on more than just a search and rescue mission.” 

 

FNC inched closer towards Lev. She craned her neck towards his MRE pack, opened her mouth and was subsequently pulled back by FN49. “It’s not good to steal another’s food,” she scolded. FNC gloomily sucked on her MRE bag.

 

“Without further ado, we will start with the briefing.”

 

The projector lit up.

 

“Some of you may know, we are contacted by and receiving orders from a Grifon client.”

​

“It’s Persica,” Pierre hissed. 

​

“We are to search for research data from two coordinates.”

 

Hevhj’s map lit up on the white screen.

 

“The first coordinate is here.” Pointed to the indicated spot north of the base camp. “Cliffside Forest. A cabin.”

 

SVD grumpily sucked on her MRE bag.

 

“Is it not, SVD?” 

 

Her lips pursed as she looked up. She nodded before resuming her consumption of her MRE. 

 

“You are sure you didn’t see anything peculiar inside when you searched it?”

 

“We didn’t search it, Commander,” SV-98 answered. “We just gave it a quick look over. We didn’t see anything that looks like the research data.”

 

“Did the client describe the storage format of this data?” Lev asked.

 

“Nope. She rambled about ‘sugar cubes’ instead,” said Pierre. 

 

“Huh,” SVD uttered before returning to her meal. She knitted her brow the moment her mouth met the bag’s. 

 

Pierre drank his coffee before adding, “Persica also said something about, ‘Will know once I see it.’” 

 

“You will have to take the drone with you.” I pointed at the folded up machine on the small table beside me. “Due to the nature of this mission, we are unable to conduct our search on two coordinates simultaneously. You are to take the drone to the cabin, wait for however long it takes for the client…”

​

“Persica.”

 

MG5 shot Pierre a dirty look.

 

“Persica to reactivate the drone and conduct her search remotely.” 

 

“So, an escort mission,” SVD frowned, dissatisfaction written all over her face. “I am to perform an escort mission.”

 

“...Yes.” 

 

The sniper sighed. “I will get to it right away.” She crumpled her MRE bag and got up.

 

“Not yet. SVD, you claimed the enemy has Prowlers posted in the forest.”

 

“Nothing a hunter of my calibre can’t handle, Commander.”

 

“Oh?” FAL grinned as she rested her cheek on her palm. “Daring to show cheek to the Commander after last night?” 

 

“SVD, you aren’t deployed yet.” 

 

SVD blinked, then sat down.

 

Picked up the command tablet. 

 

Echelon 3:

 

SVD x 1

SV-98 x 1

 

Adding OTs-12, FMG-9 and Sten Mk II. Finalised Echelon.

 

“This will be a covert mission.”

 

“No dummies?” 

 

“No dummies.” 

 

“Boss!” FMG-9 stood up. “I just heard ‘Hehe, secret mission’ over at the Zener! Am I teaming up with Tiss again?” 

 

“Yes. You, Tiss and Sten will join SVD and SV-98. SVD, being the most familiar with the forest, will lead."

 

SVD smirked and spoke aloud, “I thought we don’t have enough manpower to spare.” FAL frowned. The statement was meant for her. 

​

“We have enough manpower now, paysanne!” she retorted. “We have two more MGs!”

 

“Hey! Bourgeoisie! What about me?” Sudaev shouted from the back. 

 

“Sestra!” exclaimed Papasha, beside her, in half-panic.

 

“But Boss!” FMG-9 started to protest. “Can’t you send IDW instead?”

 

“You and Tiss are chosen for your experience.”

 

“It’s only one night of covert experience, Boss...”

 

“One night under my tutelage,” FAL huffed. She then glared at the sniper. “Take care of them, SVD. I didn't take my time teaching them the in's and out's only for you to squander them.”

 

SVD grumbled. 

 

“There is a chance you might run into Hunter.” 

 

She perked up. 

 

“If you encounter her, lure her out of the forest and rendezvous with Team FAL. Am I understood?”

 

She deflated. “...Yes, Commander.”

 

Picked up the drone and gave it to her. “You will travel on foot. Return immediately once you recovered the data. Team SVD, deploy now.”

 

“Try not to let me steal your kill, paysanne,” FAL heckled. 

 

“...Shut up,” SVD retorted as she walked past her. Her teammates got up from their seats and followed her out. FAL grinned smugly as she settled down.

 

“As soon as Team SVD returns, Team HK416 and Team FAL will depart to the next coordinate. A mine in T04...”

​

​

 

0930

​

Blue blinking blips in the forest. 

 

Liquid poured into a metal cup. 

 

Dry compacted flour scraped the tongue. Water soothed the throat.

 

"Team SVD to Command," said the voice on the headset. On the micro-drone feed, SVD, SV-98, Tiss, FMG-9 and Sten were approaching a wood-and-stone cabin. "We have arrived at our destination."

 

Metal cup rung hollow against the desk. 

 

"Heh heh," chuckled Tiss. "Secret weapons still remaining secret." 

 

FMG-9 shot her a dirty look. 

 

"Tiss, FMG-9, Sten," SVD commanded. Her tone was harsh, authoritative. "Take point," she gestured. "Silent entry." 

 

"Oh?" Fleet feet pitter-pattered. Skorpion slipped up behind me from my right. "Are they breaching now?" She said with anticipation. She smelled strongly of caffeine. 

 

FMG-9 cautiously creaked a small crack. Moments later, the three T-Dolls filed into the cabin with weapons raised. 

 

"Team SVD to Command. Cabin's clear," said SVD as she strode towards the door. The micro-drone followed. Its feed shifted from peeling bark to dusty shelf, from the leaf-carpeted ground to termite-nibbled floorboards. 

 

"Command to Team SVD. Place the drone on the table and commence with the search."

 

"Ho...we aren't the first visitors here in a while," said Tiss. With her gun-barrel, she pointed at the footprints pressed into the thick layers of dust and mould.

 

"SV-98 and I were here last night," replied SVD as she placed the drone onto the dust-covered table. 

 

"These do not look like your footprints, team lead," Tiss said. "There's also a layer of dust on them."

 

"So you noticed." SVD sounded impressed. "Very sharp eyes, you have got there." She slung her rifle onto her shoulder. 

 

"Heh heh," Tiss grinned. "I'll make a great NKVD officer, da?"

 

SVD frowned, rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the drone. FMG-9 cracked a brief grin before looking about. SV-98 smiled uncomfortably. 

 

"Think we might find fugitives under the floorboards?" Tiss said as she leaned onto the creaking floorboard. 

 

"Shut it, Tiss," FMG-9 scolded, as she turned over a moss-covered quilt. "We aren't looking for dissidents; we are looking for data-storage devices." 

 

"Got to recover those state secrets, yes, Tovarisch?" said Tiss, cheekily. FMG-9 scowled. Another floorboard creaked under Tiss' weight. FMG-9 muttered under her breath as she swung open a mouldy trunk.

 

"This is more boring than I thought," Skorpion remarked. She then drank her twentieth cup of coffee. "When's Cat-Lady gonna call?" 

 

SVD started tapping on the drone. Upon the third tap on its camera unit, it unfolded into its active stage. The projector on its head did not light up. She gave it several more taps, grumbled to herself, before moving away to pry open a closet. SV-98 stared at her for a moment before resuming turning over drawers.

 

"She left no means to contact her."

 

"Not even on the drone?" inquired Skorpion.

 

"Not even on the drone."

 

The gnawing on my thigh dwindled into an itch. 

 

"Ehhhhh," Skorpion whined. She emptied her cup. "I'll go back to packing my gear." She was wearing a pair of bandoliers packed with incendiary grenades. 

 

"...You look silly," I found myself remarking. 

 

"No, I look cool!" Skorpion posed like an action hero. "I look just like the machine gun bandana guy from the jungle movie!" 

 

The bandoliers were too large and loose, like serpents languidly coiling around a small dog. "Lose them," I said. "They are a liability." 

 

"But I look so cool!" Skorpion grinned smugly. "Lookit!" She tried drawing one of the incendiaries from the bandolier's hoop. She blinked. Her smile looked blank. "Eh?" The entire bandolier lifted like the trenchcoat of a shady weapons dealer. "Ehhhhh?" she uttered again, as she struggled against the bandolier's hoop. 

 

The radio sounded. "Northern Checkpoint to Command. Performing scheduled radio check."

 

Pushed its button. "Command to Northern Checkpoint. Transmission received."

 

"Northern Checkpoint to Command. Good to hear. Will check back again in a half-hour."

 

The radio sputtered statics.

 

Sten lifted a lid on a small ceramic container and peered into it. Her shoulders jumped. She picked up the bowl and hurried to the table. "Found something, Sten?" SVD asked. "Yes!" she responded excitedly as she turned the container over. She then put the bowl aside and picked up a metallic cube now sitting on the table. 

 

"Ooooooh," Tiss cooed. 

 

"Sten to Command," Sten cried as she lifted the cube towards the microdrone. "Is this it?" 

 

The 16Lab drone's projector lit up, and the cat-eared researcher emerged. It was as though she had been listening in. "So, you found it," she said. "Hats off to you, fine T-Dolls." Her attempts at sounding impressed failed dismally. "Feed the cube into the port of this drone," she started instructing. "The port is behind the camera unit…"

​

​

​

60mg of oxycodone, every 12 hours, to numb the pain. Next administration...about 2130. Mikhail will control my intake of the painkiller. Not wanting to get me addicted to it, he said.

 

…

 

Perhaps I should have just let the pain be if the alternative is a shackle to flour-tasting pills.

 

...

 

MG5’s taking the Southern Checkpoint, point B. Cover point A’s retreat. She insisted on facing the enemy’s main offensive, should the siege come to pass. Sudaev...PPS-43, she will assist Sturmgewehr at Northern Checkpoint. She did not sound pleased with the order.

 

Northern Checkpoint’s orders...check back every half-hour via radio. If I do not reply, they are to bury the cliff-pass they are covering the moment the Sangvis reach mid-point. Activate the charges Papasha had planted. Then, withdraw to North Junction and cover for Northern Cliffside.

 

MG4’s taking Northern Cliffside. Plenty of open fields to cover there.

 

…

 

...Another doll with yellow eyes. 

 

...

 

I had spoken to Pierre about the matter. There are many more T-Dolls with yellow eyes. 

 

…

 

Team SVD had recovered these ‘sugar cubes’ for Persica. Storage devices that looked like sugar cubes, with the same dimensions. Considering the gap between Sten finding it and Team SVD being cleared to return to base, the sugar cube stores a stupendous amount of data. 

 

All that data, packed into something the size of a sugar cube. This is only half of what Persica is looking for. 

 

What had M4A1 uncovered in that safehouse? 

 

…

 

On the subject of Persica, She’s a strange woman. Absent-minded, loses interest easily, like one of the stereotypical mad scientists from the science fiction short stories Phillipes used to deliver to me. Seeing that she has...articulated cat ears, poorly masquerading as striped turfs of hair...I suppose she is.

 

…

 

Why graft on cat ears?

 

...

…

 

M4A1 supposedly is one of her personal projects. 

 

…

 

What kind of Doll would she be? Another eccentric? 

 

…

 

On the subject of M4A1, there’s no doubt now it was her FNC and FN49 encountered two days ago. She had been in the cabin. She must have observed the activity at Hevhj and knew of our presence here. Why not seek refuge with us? Why flee and prolong her tribulation?

 

Is she compromised, perhaps?

 

...

 

Perhaps I will find these answers once we secure her — the nature of this data and the reason behind M4A1’s behaviour. And if M4A1 is as eccentric as her...supposed creator.

 

…

 

Team SVD will arrive at the Town Square, ETA five minutes. I best get ready. 

 

Skorpion had already left to join her team. They will depart to T04 as soon as Team SVD arrive. 

 

Our target is in the mining in T04. There is a Sangvis garrison there, concentrated at the southern edge, facing the road. Jaegers in the houses, Prowlers and Scouts patrolling the plains just outside. 

 

Sparse patrol at the river on the north-western side of the village. The river is traversable by bridge. 

 

Clearing the town in fifteen minutes, probably doable. Best do this quickly and prepare ourselves for the enemy response. Executioner and Hunter may lead this response in person, like two days ago.

 

Watch over us, Captain.

​

​

​

1215

​

The Prowlers and Scouts diverted away from their patrol routes and raced towards Siskin 2. Casings rang in the helo as BAR and her dummy emptied their box magazines at them. 

 

"Drop us down here, mon bel oiseau," FAL instructed, easygoing despite the fast-approaching peril. The helo descended onto the road, just out of range of the Jaegers. FAL and her dummies hopped off first, under BAR's cover fire. She then lifted her weapon, took aim and fired three grenades in quick succession. More of the Scouts' and Prowlers' blips vanished from the tactical map. 

 

"Alright, mes petits soldats, deploy as planned!" 

 

The rest of Team FAL hopped off the hatch, save two of M14’s dummies. "Anatoli, strafe the village," she said as she pulled back the bolt of her rifle. The helo left the ground and made its sidewards low-altitude approach towards the settlement. As soon as the transport got close enough, M14’s two dummies fired volleys upon volleys at the houses. 

 

Long energy beams struck out from these houses, striking the hull of the helo and one of M14's dummies. An explosion erupted from the windows of two of these houses. "BAR, what are you doing?" FAL's calmness was compromised, given way to exasperation. 

 

"Gee, team lead. You shouldn't rush me." BAR's reply punctuated with the snap of her box magazine. 

 

Another series of explosions. A Jaeger's body fell off the window and landed before FAL with a loud thud, mangled like a mauled doll. "Look at what you made me do, fille paresseuse. I had to kill six of them for you."

 

"Yesh yesh…" BAR languidly replied.

 

FAL sighed. "Just suppress the Jaegers two houses to our left."

 

"Ehhh...but that's…" BAR fell silent, suddenly deliberative. "Yesh...team lead." 

 

The Vespids and Rippers drew away from the rest of the village towards the southern perimeter. I tapped on my headset.

 

"Command to Siskin 1. Deploy Team HK416 as we had discussed."

 

The helo's blip rapidly approached the waypoint across the bridge into the village from the North-westernmost edge of the tactical map. Realising their sudden predicament, the Sangvis en-route to the southern perimeter turned back. 

 

"Team HK416 to Command. Entering the village as planned." 

 

Team HK416 rapidly crossed the bridge and met the Sangvis resistance. The advancing Rippers were quickly gunned down by HK416, G11 and FNC. 

 

Ingram and Skorpion split from the rest of the team. They moved to flank the Vespids further down the road via the alleys and houses. 

 

"G11, keep moving!" shouted HK416, pushing the aforementioned T-Doll forward. "We are working under a strict timetable!" She then fired her grenade at another advancing mob of Rippers, charging in from her right. 

 

"Ehhhhh," G11 whined as she hurried after her team leader.

 

Another explosion in the south, tearing through the ranks of Rippers and Vespids. Papasha and MP40 charged through the next blockade and held their position. MP40's incendiary ignited at the feet of the charging Rippers, preventing them from plugging the breach. 

 

"You are dragging us down, BAR!" FAL shouted as she reloaded her grenade launcher. "Can't you reload any faster, you paresseuse salope? You are using box magazines!"

 

"Ehhhhh, but FAL...we are doing just fine," BAR whined as she rechambered her gun.

 

A single Ripper, missing an arm, was struck in the head as she tried sneaking up on BAR. "Because everyone else is pulling their weight!" reprimanded FAL as she reloaded her magazine. "Sacre bleu!" 

 

1230. Team HK416 and Team FAL boxed the Sangvis in the village plaza. The combined weight of BAR's and G11's fire kept them suppressed. Any attempts to take potshots were swiftly halted by M14, supporting the echelons from aboard Siskin 2. 

 

1235. The detonation of HK416's grenade signalled the end of the Sangvis resistance. 

 

"Great work team!" Skorpion cried. "We finished them off nice and easy!"

 

"We are five minutes behind schedule," FAL commented as she glared at BAR. "No thanks to someone dragging her feet." BAR rubbed the back of her scalp and laughed softly. FAL scowled at her in return. She did not seem to notice HK416 doing the same at G11. 

 

"Team HK416 to Command…" FAL swore under her breath. HK416 glanced at her, her expression still frozen. She continued, "...Reporting village cleared."

 

"Command to Team FAL, guard the perimeter. Team HK416, send Skorpion and Ingram to scout the mine. Skorpion, take the drone. Rest, reinforce Team FAL. Siskin 1 and 2, be our eyes." 

 

​

​

1327

​

"Southern Checkpoint to Command." Eyes torn from the tactical map to the printed illustration of Hevhj environs. "We have engaged and eliminated ten Prowlers and ten Scouts." Picked up the marker. "Springfield sighted five Jaegers holding position three hundred metres south. Behind the tank carcass down the road."

 

Indicators added around the stated landmark on the map.

 

"No further activities."

 

"Understood. Observe them for now. Command out."

 

No movement at the mine entrance in Team HK416's feed. Skorpion and Ingram had not emerged from its depths. Team FAL's feeds aimed towards the road out of the village. Twenty Scouts were on patrol, just out of M14's range. On the tactical map, Siskin 1's blip winked on from the top-leftmost edge, heading towards the village with fresh supplies and dummies. Around the settlement, some five hundred metres away, red blips scattered sparsely. Vespids and Jaegers laid in wait in loose formation. 

 

Picked up the radio. "Command to Northern Checkpoint. Sitrep."

 

Statics. "Northern Checkpoint to Command. The same twenty or so Prowlers were sitting around the plains. Movement in the forest, still no ID."

 

"Anything else?"

 

"Sudaev just thanked Sturmgewehr. Something about informing her about Papasha."

 

"...I see. Keep observing the enemy's movement. Command out."

 

The radio fell silent. 

 

Micro-drone zoom function readjusted. The feeds showed Team FAL, minus BAR, covering the frontmost row of houses, with Team HK416, minus Ingram and Skorpion, lying in wait in the second row of houses. Siskin 2 hovered overhead, bearing BAR and her dummies. They were to suppress Hunter as BAR's teammates draw Executioner in towards Team HK416, before disengaging to flank Hunter's position. The tactic required Team HK416 to encircle and tie Executioner down, but its execution required Skorpion's and Ingram's presence. 

 

They must complete their search soon. Within the next five minutes, preferably.

 

Returned to the map on the desk. Hevhj. Prowlers and Scouts to the north, Jaegers to the south, movement in the Cliffside Forest. Team SVD reported seeing Vespids, Rippers and more Jaegers coming in from the north-east and south-east. 

 

A small-scale attack against the Southern Checkpoint, easily repelled. A probing action by the Sangvis, to test its resilience. No movement against the Northern Checkpoint. The ringleaders must have predicted the difficulty of sieging this position. 

 

Northern Cliffside...all quiet.

 

These movements were in response to our activities in T04. Imminent siege a diversion from T04, or to force our abandonment of it? Or perhaps...

 

Pressed the button on the holo-communicator. Kalina's projection winked on a second later. "Commander?" Her smile, initially brilliant, slowly faded. She looked dishevelled. Bangs rolled up, jacket hastily thrown on. "Kalina," I started. "Get me the most current footages of every zone of subsector 2."

 

She nodded. "It'll be a minute," she replied.

 

As soon as her projection evaporated, the contraption beeped aloud. Persica's image rose from the machine the moment it was silenced. She brought her cup to her mouth and inhaled a mouthful of its contents. Her 'ears' twitched as she spoke, "You have found it." 

 

On the feed, Skorpion and Ingram had gathered by a railcar with the drone. It too had projected Persica's image. "Woah," Skorpion remarked as the drone twitched and shuddered, likely in response to her actions. "Is she talking to us?" 

 

The printer whirled to life. 

 

"As promised, I will provide M4A1's location," Persica continued. She inhaled another mouthful of her beverage. "It will be just a mo..." 

 

The radio flared to life. "Southern Checkpoint to Command, more Prowlers and Scouts are pushing towards our position. Jaegers leaving their cover to support them. Springfield's engaging them now. We are seeing Vespids and Rippers moving in from the north-east."

 

"Northern Checkpoint to Command. Enemy's on the move. Vespids and Rippers have emerged from the Cliffside Forest."

 

Red blips converged on the village on the tactical map. 

 

"Command to all defenders, engage the enemy as planned." Tapped on the headset. 

 

Headset came to life. "Siskin 2 to Command, Sangvis on the move. No signs of Executioner or Hunter."

 

"Command to Team FAL and Team HK416," Retrieved the stack of print outs, "Engage the enemy, but be prepared to withdraw. BAR, provide cover fire."

 

"Yesh, Commander."

 

"FAL to BAR, I did not see your tracers. Pull that trigger!"

 

"Awww...FAL, don't be so impatient. It takes time to decide on priority targets." A brief silence. "Alright~ Got it."

 

Siskin 2 roared into activity. Tracers discharged from two barrels, delay between each, scythed through the advancing Prowler and Scout horde. Scouts nimbly dodged BAR's fire and were swiftly disabled by M14 and her dummies. Red blips winked out on the main screen.

 

Flipped through the printouts. T01 cleared of any activity. T02...Hevhj. T03...Sangvis echelons marching towards three directions. About forty. Twenty echelons towards the south-west...Hevhj. Fifteen towards north-east. T04. Five, also towards the south-east. 

 

Another series of beeps. Helianthus' image emerged beside Persica's. "Commander Yilmaz. I see you have been busy." She angled her head towards Persica. "Persica, was your mission accomplished?"

 

"Just a mo..." Persica mumbled. 

 

"Be quick. The Sangvis are already on the move."

 

Flipped through the printouts again. T05, six Sangvis echelons. Four headed westwards towards Hevhj. Two moving eastwards towards…

 

"Ah." Persica's 'ears' perked. "Got it. The access code to M4's beacon. She's in…"

 

T06. Burned fields. Manor on the cliff, the same which had hosted Scarecrow's server blocks.  

 

"Command to Team HK416, Team FAL, Siskin 1 and Siskin 2. Withdraw from the AO and redeploy in T06."

 

Blue blips took to the street. Siskin 1 had landed in the village plaza. FNC and G11 peeled away Team FAL's pursuers. Incendiaries ignited, blocking the enemy advance. BAR continued to fire as Siskin 2 landed. The echelons departed as the fire extinguished. 

 

"You move fast," Persica commented, with a brow raised and her 'ears' perked. She grinned, "Seems Kryuger's investment is paying off." 

 

Helianthus shot a glare at the researcher. She started sternly, "Commander Yilmaz, HQ has decided to delegate the task of extracting M4A1 to you. You are to deploy in T06, secure M4A1 and withdraw to HVQQJ." Her nostrils flared. "A Mi-26 will be dispatched to extract her and your people. You are to hold out until it arrives." 

 

"M4 is very important to me." Persica was frowning. "Do make sure you succeed. If you pull this off," she smirked, "I'll invite you over for a cuppa. Good luck, Commander." Her image winked out.

 

Helianthus sighed. "I advise against taking her up on her offer." She pursed her lips and knitted her brow as she considered her next words. "Do not disappoint us. Helianthus out."

 

"Ingram to Command," sounded the headset. "Hey, Cetin! I want to make a deal."

 

Inhaled. 

 

"HK416 to Ingram. Sound off."

 

Exhaled.

 

"Speak."

 

"Heh," Ingram smirked at HK416 in the feed. "Right. Ingram to Command. If we pull this off, I want you to give me a fistbump. Promise?"

 

Skorpion had cracked a grin. 

 

T06's coordinate punched into the tactical map. Siskin 1 and 2 had entered its airspace. 

 

The radio sounded, "Northern Checkpoint to Command. Retreating to point B."

 

The ground shook. Dirt rained from the ceiling.

 

Sighed. Tapped on the headset. "Command to Ingram. Only if you return with M4A1. Command out." 

 

"Alright! That's a promise!" Ingram and Skorpion pumped their fists. HK416 shook her head and redirected her attention to the napping G11. 

 

Sangvis Echelons swarmed around the foot of the cliff. Reinforcements arrived from the north-west and west, T04 and T05, and from the south-east...from subsector 1. 

 

A suitable landing zone...a clear spot...

 

"Command to transports and offence teams. Drop the T-Dolls at the centre of the burned field. M14, BAR, leave one of your dummies on Siskin 2. Siskin 1, scout the perimeter and interior of the manor." 

 

Sangvis Echelons responding to the helos. Prowlers and Scouts moved to intercept, with Dinergates coming in to reinforce. On the feeds, tracers flared, and grenades flew. Red blips winked out on the tactical map. 

 

Incendiaries caught a small fraction of Dinergates. The rest of the horde had split into two groups. They flowed around the immolated spots in the attempt to encircle the echelons. The submachine-gunners and their dummies rushed to put themselves between the animal-like machines and their compatriots.

 

BAR, with uncharacteristic swiftness, placed her dummies around the two echelons and started gunning down the charging Dinergates. M14 dummies turned their guns towards the cliff-face and started firing at the repositioning Jaegers. 

 

"Team FAL and Team HK416 to Command," FAL started. "We have cleared the LZ. M14 is trading fire with the Jaegers at the bottom of the cliff-face to our east. Where to?"

 

Activity in the manor grounds. 

 

"Command to Siskin 1, visuals on Executioner?"

 

"Siskin 1 to Command. Visuals on shockwave and flashes from the manor's second storey window."

 

M4A1.

 

"Command to Siskin 1, sweep the perimeter and search for alternative entry points."

 

"Siskin 1 to Command. Ahead of you. Cliff-faces everywhere. Seems our Dolls have to kick in the front door."

 

The ground shook, the ceiling rained dirt and dust once more. 

 

"Northern Cliffside to Command," the radio sounded. "Seeing detonation from Northern Checkpoint. They aren't responding to our hails. Northern Cliffside still clear."

 

"Command to Northern Cliffside. Understood." 

 

Rippers moved to surround the LZ. Vespids following close. Jaegers…

​

Thunder cracked in the cloudless sky. Blood splattered onto my left cheek. 

​

...Jaegers filling the manor's lower terrace.

 

Inhaled. Exhaled.

 

Blood on my lip. True finger on the headset. 

 

"Command to Team FAL and Team HK416; you have to break through the front. Team FAL, vanguard. Clear the path for Team HK416. Ingram, provide smoke cover as soon as you get within Jaeger range. M14, BAR, support the advance from Siskin 2. Priority targets, Jaegers."

 

The blue blips started moving towards the manor. Gunfire and energy bolts flashed on the feeds. Smoke partially concealed their advance. Ingram dummies intercepted fire meant for the rest of her comrades. Rifle report from above, partially drowned by Siskin 2's rotors.

 

Inhaled. Exhaled. Turned the dial.

 

"Command to Team SVD. Sitrep."

 

SVD's reply came in amidst the thundering gunfire. "Team SVD to Command. Very busy right now. Jaegers trying to reach the roof by scaling point A's debris."

 

Ringing in the ear. Report of her rifle. 

 

"Who can you spare?"

 

"FMG-9 and Sten. Team Springfield, MG5, Tiss and the Aux Guards have left them with nothing to do."

 

Three explosions from three grenades, fired in quick succession, gouged a gap in the enemy lines. Submachine-gunners and Rippers clashed as they filed in to secure the breach.

 

"Understood. FMG-9, take your dummies and scout out Northern Checkpoint. Get Lev to lend transport."

 

"...Boss? You sure?"

 

Skorpion sprawled on the ground. Coolant and fragment of skull spilt all over the dirt and grass. 

​

Hassan crumpled onto the bloodied sand. Half his face was gone.

​

"Go, FMG-9." 

 

Blink. Sten's voice on the radio.

 

"IDW and I will cover for you."

 

BAR's weapon roared. The Jaeger dismembered by her fire. Another Skorpion, drenched in red, pulled the pin and reared back. Incendiary sailed towards the advancing mob. Rippers and Vespids consumed by flame. 

 

Blue covered the red.

 

"Yes, Boss," FMG-9's reply came with some hesitation. 

 

More smoke shrouded the struggle for superior ground.

 

"Moving now."

 

The radio fell silent.

 

Inhaled. Counted to three. Exhaled. Slowly.

 

"Team FAL to Command," the headset emitted. "We have reached the slope." 

 

FAL on the feeds. HK416 and G11 passed by her. She signalled MP40 and Papasha to clear the cabins to her right. Her dummies scattered and took their positions atop the cliff's ledge, where the Jaegers once stood. M14's dummies followed.

 

The stump burned. The false fingers ached. Gnawing in the false limbs. 

 

Pinch. Feeds zoomed out. 

 

Inhaled. Counted to three. Exhaled. Tapped the headset. The throat burned, the lungs groaned. 

 

"Command to Team FAL. Hold your position. Team HK416, get Ingram to the manor, then clear the manor grounds."

 

"Cetin." Skorpion. She sounded concerned. Uncertain. "You sound weird. What happened?" 

 

The pulse had raised. True hand trembled. Sweat on the brow. 

 

"...Command to Skorpion." Voice like sandstorm, scouring the throat. "Focus on the mission. Out." 

 

Inhaled. Counted to three. Exhaled. Slowly. Into the palms. 

 

Blue blips separated. One cluster on the top of the slope, spreading out to cover the terrace. Another cluster pushed towards the Courtyard. 

 

Red blips gathered to meet them. A clear circle erupted in their midst. 

 

On the feed, HK416 had launched her grenade, moments before curtain smoke engulfed her.

 

Additional red blips winked out. Three Skorpions and four Ingrams had rushed ahead of the group. 

 

The pulse quickened. 

 

Gun flashed on the feed. Ingrams charged out of concealment and through the shattered double gate.

 

"Team HK416 to Command!" It was Skorpion's voice. "We have cleared the Courtyard. We are doing fine!"

 

"Get off the comms, Skorpion," HK416 scolded. "Courtyard cleared. Ingram has entered the manor. We are taking our positions now." 

 

"Hurry up, Kraut!" FAL shouted. "M14 reported seeing another wave of Sangvis entering the AO from Subsector 1!"

 

"Direct that to Ingram," HK416 replied coolly. A short, uneasy pause. "Team HK416, get ready." 

 

A single red blip exited the manor, at high velocity. Executioner had fallen out of the third storey window, with Ingram hanging on to her. She was without her sword. 

 

They struggled. Ingram plunged her knife into her opponent's shoulder. The cobblestones cracked upon their landing, their forms shrouded by dust.

 

Ingram flinched, her neck bent at an unnatural angle. 

 

Executioner leapt onto her feet. Leapt and soared, propelled by a force which had uprooted the cobbles beneath her. She skidded across the Courtyard, gouging a scar along her path. Her dismembered right arm landed close with a bounce. 

 

Incendiary ignited. Molten flesh sloughed off her back. Gunfire from multiple directions. FNC's emptied their magazines, reloaded and fired again. G11's capacities seemed limitless. Skorpions encircled Executioner, in constant motion. Running and gunning. The weight of their projectiles tore at the Ringleader, ripping off metallic chunks. 

 

Executioner got up. The Skorpions scattered, moments before the grenade struck. Cobbles uprooted, the dry fountain crumbled. HK416 reloaded her grenade. 

 

Executioner got up again. She fell, her right leg was torn off. 

 

The guns fell silent. M4A1 strode out of the double-gate, holding the smoking gun, with a bleeding Ingram following close behind. M4A1 rubbed the stain off her cheek as she closed towards the fallen Ringleader. 

 

Executioner dragged herself towards the fountain's edge. M4A1 dragged her back, turned her around. She stomped and dug her heel into the Ringleader's chest. They spoke. She raised her gun. The Ringleader's head snapped back to the ringing gunfire. Coolant pooled in the cratered fountain, like seeping blood.

 

The radio sounded. "FMG-9 to Command. Boss! We've found Northern Checkpoint. They are holding position at the junction." 

 

"Northern Checkpoint to Command. Sangvis troopers still pushing our position, but they seemed to have lost their drive and all semblance of tactical thinking. Just roving towards our position on auto-pilot. Did we win?"

 

Red blips ceased moving in unity. Reinforcements from Subsector 1 trickled like dripping tap water, then stopped entirely.

 

The heartbeat against the ribcage. Gnawing in the false limbs. Sweat on brow. 

 

Inhaled. Count to three. Exhaled. Picked up the radio. The throat felt parched.

 

"Command to all defenders. Executioner is dead. Hunter still unseen. M4A1 recovered."

 

Closed the mouth. Inhaled. Exhaled. The pulse slowed. 

 

"We have won."

​

​

​

1507

​

A blue glint reflected on the empty shot glass. 

 

Its light flowed with the clear liquid. 

 

The bottle rang hollow. 

 

“That’s not the face of a victor.”

 

Azure glow shimmered in her silver eyes. 

 

“I’m not getting any praise for my efforts, hmm?”

 

“I have yet to see your handiwork.” 

 

SVD folded her arms. “You can’t see it without leaving your chair.”

 

Burning in my throat. The chair creaked. Throbbing under the stitch, aching in the false limbs. Heavy feet dragged up the steps, one after another, from the stale air into the arid wind. It carried an iron-tinted scent, barely masked by an anaesthetic stench.

​

Swivels and creaks. A small bump. The broom laid further down the hallway, untouched for a very long time. 

 

Captain’s face was a mask. His eyes were low, his brows knitted. 

 

The ajar door creaked open. The sun filtered through tattered blinds, illuminating the mats below.

​

Stefan leaned on his steel chair. The odour of anaesthesia emanating from his dressings barely masked the scent of burned fat. On his lap, an exhausted IDW rested her head. With his good hand, he absent-mindedly stroked her hair. He responded to my footsteps. “Commander,” he greeted wearily. 

 

Prone on the mat beside him, with a white towel on his face, was Oleksiy. 

​

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” said Captain. His firm voice carried a tinge of sorrow. “Accidents happen. Mistakes happen. You can’t plan for everything.”

​

“You there?” Lev looked concerned. “Back to reality, Fox.” 

 

He was holding a glass of vodka. He lifted the glass to his lips and gulped a mouthful. “The oaf tripped,” he started. “He tripped. Springfield got the Ripper who did this but…well…”

 

Another gulp. “She tried to get him out. Got clipped herself. Lost three dummies to the Jaegers just outside the blockade. Must have lost concentration. Stefan, well, you can guess…”

 

Still holding the glass, he pointed at IDW. She was missing her right arm. “She saved them. Bought time for SVD and SV-98 to cover the retreat. They nailed her while she was withdrawing with us.” 

 

Another gulp. “Kept fighting regardless. Helped hold point B, while damaged like that. Brave kitty.” A dry chuckle. IDW’s left ear, brushed by Stefan, had twitched and wriggled. “She deserves that.” 

 

“Why didn’t you mention this in your radio reports?”

 

“Don’t want to distract you.” Lev drank his vodka again. “You needed to concentrate on looking after Team HK416 and Team FAL.”

 

Chopping in the wind. Rotors drawing close. “Boss,” FMG-9 saluted, and I nodded as I passed by her. 

 

Buffeted by the dried leaves, dust and debris the moment I crossed the threshold. Landing gears pressed against the cobbles. The hatches opened, and the victors filed out. 

 

“Commander,” Ingram was the first to reach the bottom steps. Her right hand pressed on the hardened foam on her left abdomen. Her left arm was limp. She wore a pained, but triumphant smile. “We brought M4. We did well, yeah?” 

 

With a sigh, I raised my left fist. “Keeping the promise.”

 

“Heh,” she smirked. We bumped our fists together. 

 

Skorpion kept a wide berth as she headed towards the double-gate. Her movement sneaky, like a thief in daylight. “Skorpion,” I said. She froze. The red stain scarcely concealed the leaden worry she carried. She smiled furtively, her single eye looking away.

​

An iridescent beam struck Skorpion, fracturing her skull. Fragments ejected like shrapnel; coolant splattered on the dirt and grass — red splatters, red like blood.

 

“Eh...Cetin? You alright?” her voice devoid of her usual energy. “Should I…” Uncertainty, worry, concern for my well-being. 

 

I raised my true arm, curled its fingers into a fist. She blinked. “You’ve earned it,” I said. She looked at her own fist. With a reluctant smile, she brought it forward. We knocked our knuckles together. “You did alright,” I said. “Heh…” she rubbed her head. She wore a shaky smile. “You are pretty good.” 

 

She lowered her arm. “Fistbump still needs practice, though.” 

 

“Commander.” HK416 had stopped beside me. She was carrying G11 on her back. “She’s been sleeping like that since we got on the helo,” Ingram commented. HK416 frowned upon hearing her remark. 

 

FAL was scolding BAR as she marched her out of Siskin 2. Papasha hurried after them, speaking urgently. Sudaev, who was waiting by the fountain, pounced on her the moment she exited the helo. As soon as she saw MP40, she turned Papasha away and snarled at her. 

 

HK416 stared silently. Green eyes filled with embarrassment. “I didn’t fulfil my promise…” “Your leadership is still instrumental to her defeat.” Her expression lit up. 

 

“Good work.”

 

A brief smile, quickly replaced with a frown. She looked back, then hurriedly departed.

 

“Are you...the Grifon Commander?” A T-Doll in green and khaki ascended the steps towards us. She looked away, seemingly nervous. “What did...M16 say to do again?” she mumbled to herself. Her demeanour was unlike when she pulled the trigger on Executioner.  

 

A slap on my back. “Yea, he is the gloomy Commander we mentioned,” said Ingram.

 

“Oi, Ingram,” chided Skorpion. “Way to ruin the impression.” 

 

“What?” Ingram shrugged her shoulders. “I’m telling the truth, is all.” She then turned towards the newcomer. “Don’t worry, M4,” she said with a snicker. “Old Fox’s got fangs, but he doesn’t bite without reason.” 

 

“Oi…” Skorpion gave her a dirty look. 

 

M4 exhaled. Her expression hardened. “Right.” She threw a salute. 

 

“Allow me to introduce myself. Tactical Doll M4A1.” 

​

 

 

​