1800

 

“Sudaev is fully repaired and in high spirits,” reported Kalina’s azure apparition, her eyes on her tablet. “She demanded an immediate redeployment. I think she already misses Papasha. BAR and FAL still need another two hours. AR-15 will be right as rain in the next half-hour.” An admiring grin poked out from behind her tablet. “I’m surprised. I thought she would be more wounded, considering she fought Hunter on her own.”

 

“What about Ingram and FMG-9?” 

 

A slight twitch upon her smiling lips. “They will only be back in the next three days, I’m afraid.”

 

“...I see.”

 

She lowered her tablet. “That concludes my report. You will see Sudaev, BAR, FAL and AR-15 again at twenty-thirty hours.” She looked aside and made a show of sighing aloud. “Aaaaaahh, I’m very jealous of everyone. They all get to go to the new base and eat Springfield’s food while I have to remain overnight to sort out the inventory. I’ll be lucky to find any butterbrod for dinner tonight.”

 

A momentary silence. Quiet radio statics in the background. 

 

She spoke again, irately, “Show more concern for your adjutant and logistics officer, why don’t you?”

 

“I’m sure Springfield left some ingredients.”

 

She exhaled. “Do I look like a cooking girl? Anyway, no disrespect, but,” she smiled softly, “you look awful. Get some sleep.” 

 

“...I’ll take that under advisement.”

 

She pointed accusingly. “You better!” She smiled, then swung her arm towards her forehead. “See you tomorrow.” She made an informal salute. “Kalina, out!” 

 

Her apparition dissipated. The true leg ached, Mikhail’s medicine had begun to wear off. The Tactical Map lit up.

 

Snow-blanketed subsector 4, further up the Carpathia. 

​

Dust flecks rose from four bloodied sheets, towards the broken light.

 

False eyes blinked. Flecks of dust danced within the azure glow.

​

Bloodied sheet. Recent. Oleksiy. His sundered soul rose into the broken light.

 

“She tried to get him out. Got clipped herself…”

 

“Cetin! Coffee!”

​

Voices suddenly silenced. Blue glow dimmed by encroaching sunlight. 

 

Skorpion, carrying a metal tray over her head, glided towards the Tactical Map. She placed the tray not-so-gently onto its lit surface. Some of the dark fluids had spilt. 

 

“Oops!” she uttered. 

 

“Do you have to carry the tray in that manner?”

 

She picked up and tore open a sugar bag. “I thought it would be cool if I could nail the landing,” she explained as she poured its contents into a ceramic mug. 

 

“...Don’t do that,” the throat croaked.

 

She opened another bag and emptied it. “Hescos’ done, by the way,” she said as she stirred her coffee. “Canteen tent’s already up. Papasha and the rest have started work on the barracks; she’s doing okay. Lev said he should finish drafting the guard schedules within the hour. He will make sure Griga’s getting it too.” 

 

She pulled up a metal chair, sat down, then took a long sip. Lowering her mug, she commented. “I like the old base better. It had walls, even if they are full of holes. Here, it’s all tents!” 

 

“This arrangement is temporary. There will be more permanent accommodations here.”

 

“Oh!” She lit up. “That’s nice.”

 

“They aren’t meant for us.” 

 

“Oh…” Her pigtails seemed to droop. 

 

“Commander Washington will commandeer this base after permanent structures are erected here. Our new home...” 

 

The false finger stabbed into a hill over the eastern riverside cliff, flanked by mountain-side, lit crimson by blip clusters. “...will be here. We will besiege it next week.”

 

Skorpion’s eye was transfixed on the village to the south-east of the hill.

 

“...Is something the matter?”

 

She blinked, then shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing.” She frowned. “So, we will be living up there? In such a cold place? In tents?”

 

Sigh exhaled. “We will have permanent infrastructure constructed there as well.”

 

“Warm rooms and sturdy walls!” She raised her fist. “Hurray for us! Well!” She stood up, puffing her chest. “I’m sure the Ringleader in charge must be running pretty scared now. We did pretty good, taking down three Ringleaders in less than two weeks.” 

 

A shadowed forest road, two bridges suspended over frigid rapids, a terraced cliff-face flanked by two hills...

 

Sigh exhaled. “This will be an uphill battle, but I’ll see that position taken.”

 

“Anyway, you can always depend on me for help.” She balled up a fist and struck her left chest, just a little away from her sternum. “I was there throughout the past year, in case you forgot.”

 

The coffee carried a subtle chocolate flavour. 

 

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

 

She took another sip off her mug, then sat on her chair. She made another loud gulp, then inquired. “How’s everyone back in the old base?”

 

“We will see everyone again at twenty-thirty hours. All of them…”

 

“FAL to M4! I can’t raise FMG-9! M4!?”

​

“...Cetin?” 

 

Skorpion’s blue eye was deep with worry. 

 

Inhaled. Exhaled. The caffeinated aroma filled the nostrils. 

 

“...except FMG-9 and Ingram. They will return to us in three days.”

 

Skorpion lowered her mug. “...Oh…” She drank her coffee, rested her cup on her thighs, and shot me a glance. She snickered; it sounded forced. “Ingram’s going to be soooooo mad when she gets back. She’s really proud of those scars.” Her cheerfulness faded. “FMG-9 though...she won’t remember anything about today.”

 

“...I see.”

​

​

​

1945

​

The ticket for Smirnoff laid unredeemed on the counter. By its side, two cups of freshly poured peppermint tea. Springfield smiled that gentle yet unwavering smile. Sten snuck us a glance, then continued stirring her pot. 

 

“I requested Smirnoff.”

 

Her smile was warm, without malice. “I politely decline your request.” Her meadow-green eyes glanced at the unredeemed ticket. “You are planning on drinking your woes away in the command tent while Skorpion is away for dinner, aren’t you?”

 

Skorpion scowled upon hearing this revelation. “Cetin!” she admonished. Springfield gave her a look before she could speak further, silencing her.

 

“Why not talk to me?” Springfield then offered. “It will do you more good than drinking alone.”

 

“You still have dinner to prepare.”

 

The markswoman pointed at the stack of packed trays by her side. “All the meals are already prepared, except for the stew. Sten can take care of it and the distribution of meals.”

 

“...I see.” 

 

She folded her arms. Her posture was stout, though she did not lose her gentle smile. 

 

“...I’m sorry.”

 

Her eyes reflected her ill expectations, though her smile never wavered. 

 

“...For what happened today.”

 

The china cup clinked closer. “You should take a sip,” she offered, insistently.

 

The fresh-scented tea was lightly sweetened with honey.

 

Springfield sighed and spoke. Her shoulders eased, she lowered her arms. She did not lift her cup. “What has happened has happened. People come and go; it’s a fact of our lives.” She did not show the haggardness conveyed in her words. “At least with us dolls, we can still return.”

 

“It didn’t have to happen.” Set the cup on its tray. “They paid for my lack of foresight. Hunter’s tactics were written in her name…”

 

The room fell silent. Springfield’s eyes took on a hard quality, her smile petrified, dissuading dissent. Skorpion watched on wordlessly. Sten continued to stir, though she had thrown us furtive glances twice. 

 

“You didn’t know about the dummy trap.” Springfield sighed again. “Neither did I despite my years of service. You couldn’t have seen it coming.”

 

“But!” Skorpion blurted out. “You made up for it during the defence! Took out the Jaegers which could have gunned down Rasputin and Nicholai!”

 

“That was Washington’s work.”

 

“Cetin.” Springfield’s gentle voice carried a harsh undertone. “Drink.”

 

The tea had cooled slightly.

 

She watched as the teacup set itself on its saucer. She sighed, then spoke, softly, without condemnation. “You are too harsh on yourself. None of us faults you for what happened today. Besides.” Her gentle smile took on a resigned quality. “We can always come back. As long as you learn from it, our sacrifices aren’t in vain.” 

 

Moonless night. Cold sea behind, cold sand below.

​

Heart hammered against its cage. 

 

Ringing in the air. The pouring tracer flashes had ceased. Khadem lifted his head. A loud crack. Sickening crunch. Warm fluids and bone chunks splattered onto my back.

 

Knives in the false limbs. Shrapnel flensed flesh. Bones shattered, tendons snapped.

 

False hand trembled. Fingers stabbed and dug into the palm, yet drew no blood. The appendage whirled, its servos groaned, its fingers contorted. Skorpion clasped her hands around its wrist. Knitted brow...she was frowning severely. “Cetin. The phantoms’ back?”

​

She was troubled.

 

Inhaled. Exhaled. 

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Harsh voice ringing in the ears. Booming, like thunder in the cloudless night sky.

 

“Today is the day, Chosen Sons! Janissaries! Today, we give thanks! Today, we shed blood! Today, we sacrifice! For our benevolent Fathers! For the Coalition!” 

 

“I am not like them.”

​

Skorpion tilted her head. 

 

Springfield blinked, though she did not drop her smile. “Pardon?” 

 

Commotion from the tent flap. 

 

“Da, SV-98 did indeed take out three Vespids with a single shot.”

 

“So it is true? Not just another one of Babushka’s tall tales?”

​

Lev and his men, Nagant, SVD and SV-98 had entered the canteen. 

 

“What, you don’t believe her when she said I put two Guards and five Rippers into the ground in three seconds?”

 

“Ten seconds, I said! Ten seconds!” 

 

Nagant and SVD shot glares at one another. Lev grinned with amusement while SV-98 frowned. 

 

Steam no longer rose from the cup, but the tea was still too warm, prohibiting hasty consumption.

 

“Hey, Fox!” The true shoulder shoved forward. “You are early. Missing Springfield’s cooking already?” 

 

Springfield smiled politely at the newcomers. They did not see her swiping the Smirnoff ticket off the counter-top. “Evening, Lev,” she greeted. 

 

“What’s for dinner, Spring?” Lev inquired with a boyish smile.

 

“Ribeye steak, with baked potatoes, salad and granola.” Springfield laid a tray on the counter. “Beef stew still requires five minutes.” 

 

Sten nodded, then immediately returned to attending her pot. 

 

Nagant raised herself on tiptoes. “American?” She stared at the tray critically. 

 

“You did work hard today,” Springfield smiled gently, though there was iron behind her smile. “Did you not?” 

 

Nagant pouted. “But it’s American. It’s all fatty and…” 

 

“I’ll take your share if you don’t like it.” Skorpion grinned mischievously. 

 

“No!” Nagant snatched away the tray. “It’s mine!” She poutily pitter-pattered away. 

 

“Sten will send the stew over to her. “Springfield turned her attention back to Lev. “You are early. It’s not eight o’clock yet.”

 

“Papasha’s completed the barricades and the guard tower. M14 and P7 are doing sentry duty.” Lev rubbed the back of his head. “All that’s left now are the remaining three barracks tents, and Papasha’s already on them.”

 

“I’ll double her servings,” Springfield nodded as she passed him two trays. “Do be a dear and deliver the sentries their meals.”

​

​

​

2002

​

FNC, P7, Skorpion and Nagant chatted merrily to the right. Rasputin and Nicholai ate their meals silently at the table to the left. SVD argued with both SV-98 and Nagant at the table just ahead. The gap between the road and the Sangvis stronghold was approximately five hundred metres wide. 

 

“What are you doing working while everyone else is celebrating?” Lev’s tray clattered on the table. 

 

The meat was stringy. The bones were cartilages. 

 

Another outpost on the cliff over the village, overlooking the bridge. 

 

“Carry on without me.”

 

The peppermint tea, sweetened with honey, was lukewarm. 

 

“Live a little,” Lev said. He cut a slice of his steak. “We just got out of a rough firefight today. That deserves a toast.” 

 

“We incurred casualties.” 

 

“Nothing permanent,” said the Dayguard Captain. He clamped his teeth around his fork. “Other than bruised egos and a case of amnesia, but I’m sure they are glad we managed to pull this off despite the short notice.”

 

Ingram coughed and cracked an irreverent smirk. She was in grave condition. Sealing foams on her chest. The soaked bandage on her midriff emanated an acrid stench. Multiple burn wounds, one eye dead in its socket…

 

“Except maybe FAL. She’s going to seeth over this for the rest of the week.”

​

Sigh exhaled. The tea’s flavour was still strong. The cartilage torn by the teeth. 

 

“We do not have the excuse of ‘short notice’ for our next engagement.” 

 

Tablet scraped along the table. 

 

“What is your assessment?”

 

Lev knitted his brow. “Uphill slope, wide open area, no good spot for a LZ. That’s a killing field.” He grimaced, his dark brown eyes took on a piercing quality. “You aren’t planning on pulling a Zhukov, I hope?” 

 

“How would this ‘Zhukov’ deal with this conundrum?”

 

He breathed deeply, his cheeks puffed slightly. He exhaled, “If I know my history, Marshal Zhukov would force his men to charge up the hill.”

 

“And I do not intend on following his example.”

 

He cracked a grin, then returned his attention to the tablet. A bite, chew, swallow, a sip. “Remember those BTR’s we saw on the way here?” He looked up from the tablet. “If we uparmour them, they could deliver our dolls up that hill relatively unscathed. I’ll take my boys and go check them out tomorrow, first thing in the morning. With luck, some of them might still work, or can be made to work with some repairs.”

 

Skorpion twisted her torso towards us and raised her hand. “We’ll take over guard duty!”

 

“Awwww,” P7’s ears drooped. “I planned on going to town tomorrow.” 

 

FN-49 nodded in affirmation. FNC struggled in her grasp, cries of protestations muffled by a napkin.

 

“Take Papasha and Sudaev with you. I will inform Sudaev of the arrangement once she arrives.”

 

“Oh! Oh! I want to join too!” P7 waved her arms. 

 

Lev folded his arms and scowled disapprovingly. “Do you want to test M14’s patience?”

 

P7 snickered and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, she will be fine with it.”

 

“She is too soft.” Lev sighed and shook his head. He then admonished, “Well, I’m not okay with it. You are working double shifts tomorrow.”

 

False tears pooled in P7’s purple eyes. “Commander~der~der.”

 

FNC shot her a dirty look. She freed herself from FN-49’s grasp just long enough to cry, “Oi!” Frowning, FN-49 tightened her grip and dabbed her napkin more forcefully against the younger T-Doll’s sauce-smeared cheeks.

 

Sigh exhaled. “You can go with Lev.”

 

P7 raised her arms jubilantly. “Yippee!” She grinned at Lev, who frowned grumpily. 

 

“However, this won’t be a sightseeing tour. I need you to be an extra pair of eyes. Look out for explosive materials. Sources of ammonium nitrate and the like, propane tanks, scrap metal, industrial piping.”

 

Lev widened, then narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward and dropped his voice into a whisper. “You do realise what you are about to get us to do is highly illegal, right?” 

 

Tapped on the outpost over the village, overlooking the cliff. “Do you think the Sangvis cares?”

 

“No, it isn’t just that.” Lev tensed up, his voice getting harsh. “I understand the need to even out the scale, but are you sure this is safe? The last thing we need is having to explain to Helianthus why high explosives are maiming the boys and the dolls before we even set foot on subsector 4.”

 

“As long as the pipes and tanks are good, they won’t explode. We will assess the materials’ condition before using them. I’ll contact Kalina later, requisition the required tools.”

 

Lev knitted his brow again. 

 

“I’m adding accumulators to the list. We will use them for remote ignition. Minimise danger to the crew. Does this satisfy you?”

 

“Commander!” 

 

Throat clenched, wheezed. Heart pounded. Muscles wound up. Black sleeves constricting the neck. 

 

Tightening. Tightening. 

 

True fingers dug into the constriction. Muscles unsprung, bones strained. 

 

The tightened limb held.

 

False arm’s servos whined. Fine hair brushed against the true cheek. “Found ya!” Sop II cried joyously. 

 

“Sop II!” M4’s voice was soft, yet firm. Pink hair caressed the cheek again. “But M4…” she whined. 

 

“No,” M4 ordered. “Don’t trouble the Commander.” 

 

“Yeeeessss.” Sop II whined. Her grip slackened reluctantly. 

 

Throat gasped and coughed, clearing the obstruction. Aroma of tea and sauce flooded the nostrils. Lev frowned. His right knee poked from under the table, he was about to get up.

 

Knife grasped tight in the false hand.

 

Breath released. Slowly, restrained. Released the knife... A light clatter.

 

Inhaled, counted to three... Exhaled...

 

M4 shook her head and relaxed. “I’m sorry about that, Commander,” she said as she unfolded her arms. “She’s always excitable.”

 

“Yeah, we can see that.” Lev sat down and sup on his drink. He lowered his cup and wore a boyish grin. “So, Hero of Novum Sambir.” He leaned forward. “We will be honoured to have you join us at our table.” He then nodded at me. “Isn’t that right, Fox?” 

 

Inhaled. Counted to three. Exhaled. “...I don’t mind.” 

 

Cool, comforting tea flushed down the last of the throat’s detritus. 

 

M4 looked at Lev, then myself. She was hesitant. 

 

Lev supped from his cup. The bench rocked subtly; Sop II had helped herself to an empty spot to the left. The Dayguard Captain’s eyes warily flitted about, towards Sop II, towards the knife, towards the false eyes. The command unit blinked, then sighed. She took the opposite seat, beside him. 

 

“What are you discussing, Commander?” Sop II inquired. All smiles, ruby-red eyes glinting with excitement, oblivious of the would-be consequences of her previous deed. “Let me see! Let me see!”

 

M4 glanced at Sop II. She furrowed her brow, then opened her mouth.

 

Lev spoke out before she could say a word. “We are discussing what we are going to do with subsector 4. Here, M4.” He slid the tablet towards the silent T-Doll. “What do you think?” 

 

She gazed upon the screen and furrowed her brow again. She brought her knuckles to her lips and pondered silently. “Our objective is the hill, isn’t it?” she inquired slowly. 

 

“That’s right,” Lev replied with a nod. He urged, “So, how will you take that hill, were you in Fox’s position?” 

 

She glanced at me, then at the tablet again. She pondered for a moment. “We’ve never passed that hill. We reached Safehouse 3 from the north. That path starts in subsector 2…”

 

“The Commander had that route collapsed to cut off Executioner’s reinforcements.” 

 

416. A glimpse of a sneer upon her lips.

 

Sop II scowled, lips peeled to expose her canines. 

 

416 continued, ignoring her, “And your proposal entails swinging back through Novum Sambir to reach subsector 2, costing us more time than necessary.”

 

“And what would you do?” challenged Sop II. “Do you have better ideas?” 

 

“I will have that better idea,” 416 folded her arms and replied coolly, “after I’m given a few hours with the map.”

 

“So you don’t have a better idea!” Sop II pointed accusingly at her. “Whatever you can come up with, M4 will do better!” She snapped towards her team leader. “Right, M4?” 

 

M4 looked up and blinked. “I’m sorry. Did I miss something?”

 

Silence around the table. Skorpion and P7 ceased chatting, turned to stare. Rasputin and Nicholai directed their silent gaze towards us. FNC stopped struggling in FN-49’s grasp. SVD, SV-98 and Nagant stared petrified; their utensils held tight in their frozen grips. 

 

M4 blinked again. A blush crept up her lips. “Di-Did I do something wrong?” she panicked.

 

“Aaaah! She’s an airhead!” 

 

“Mary!” 

 

Table rocked, almost spilling stew. M4 snapped her head towards her back and beheld Commander Washington passing by her. “You are being rude!” The dull tap of his cane punctuated his reprimand.  

 

FNC’s eyes widened. She fell silent immediately.

 

The Grifon commander gave the troublemaker a hard stare, then turned his gaze towards her FN-49. “I hope she hasn’t given you too much trouble.” 

 

She shook her head frantically. 

 

“She’s a menace,” Lev stated bluntly. 

 

“Yeah!” P7 raised her hand. “I saw her sneaking out of the old storehouse with a box of choco rations last night!” 

 

“I saw it too!” Skorpion added. “We even chased her, but she gave us the slip!” 

 

“T-That’s only yesterday!” FN-49 blurted. FNC kicked out her legs, and the riflewoman tightened her grasp and tapped the struggler’s left temple.  

 

“Fey…” Washington frowned. “That tap is too lenient. You promised to be firm with Mary.” His voice was laden with disappointment. 

 

“Sorry, Nivy.” She gave him an embarrassed nod.

 

Washington took a deep breath, then sighed. “You could have asked for help, you know. I’m certain the good men and women of this company will lend you their aid upon being asked. Isn’t that right….” His gaze met the false eyes’, “Yilmaz?”

 

FN-49’s lips twitched. FNC glanced at me, then back at Washington. 

 

“Come on, Fey,” Lev broke the silence. “The Fox doesn’t bite.” 

 

The riflewoman glanced at me again. Her lips twitched, then broke into a nervous grin. “I hope we aren’t a bother.” 

 

Sigh exhaled. “You aren’t a bother, Fey. Mary, however...”

 

FNC shot a fierce glare. 

 

“...she is a menace.”

 

“And we know what a menace deserves.” Washington winked. “Don’t we, Yilmaz?”

 

“...A forehead flick.”

 

FNC’s eyes widened. She kicked out and thrashed about as FN-49 tightened her grasp and steadied her footing. 

 

“Will you be doing the honours?” Washington inquired.

 

“No. You are closer.” 

 

He cracked a smile, then frowned as he lifted his arm and wound up his index finger. 

 

A loud thwack. FN-49 shook. FNC cried into the riflewoman’s napkin.

 

“Now, Mary.” Washington lowered his arm. “What are you supposed to say to M4?” 

 

FNC, still wincing and twitching and at the verge of tears, ground her teeth as she set her teary eyes upon M4. The napkin peeled, she whimpered, “...I’m sorry.”

 

“What did you say?” Sop II wrung her arms. “M4 can’t hear you!” 

 

M4 frowned and glared at Sop II disapprovingly. “I’m sorry, M4!” FNC half-shouted before she could say a word. 

 

“What say you, M4?” Washington smiled kindly. “Do you accept the apology?” 

 

M4 blinked, then looked at Washington. Another blink. She replied, “I accept the apology.”

 

Washington lifted his hand and laid it on FNC’s head. “Don’t be rude to your friends again, okay, Mary?” 

 

FNC nodded vigorously. 

 

The Grifon commander exhaled. He reformed his smile and showed M4 her hand. “I’m afraid we haven’t been properly introduced, back in the command tent. Commander Klein Washington, and please, do call me Nivy.” 

 

M4 blinked again, then hesitantly shook his hand. “M-M4A1.”

 

“I’m Sop II!” Sop II waved both her arms vigorously. 416’s brow twitched, though she kept her silence. 

 

Washington nodded at the waving Sop II, then directed his attention towards 416. “Honoured to meet you too, HK416. Splendid performance earlier today in Delta Three. Meticulous sweep in Beta One. I can see why Commander Yilmaz regards you highly.”

 

416’s eyes lit up, though her expression remained impassive.  

 

“Now then,” the commander clapped his hands. He swept his gaze, still wearing that smile, and asked, “Am I welcome to your table?”

 

“That’s the least I could do to repay you for your assistance, Commander Washington.”

 

His smile faded slightly. “I see. Alright then. I’ll join you after I collect my meal.” He nodded at us again, then limped towards the Cano sisters and MG4, who were waiting at the aisle. 

 

The cartilage torn between the teeth.

​

​

​

2025

​

“Nobody’s disputing your skills, Snow.”

 

Lev raised his voice, drowning out SVD’s attempt at an argument. “However, you are never going to cover an entire forest on your own, with or without dummies.”

 

“Whoever said I’m going on my own?” SVD matched her volume with Lev’s. “We have enough snipers! Svet, Springfield, M14, FN-49…”

 

“Fey on a covert mission?” FNC interjected loudly. “No way! She doesn’t have the guts for it!”

 

“Mary!” Washington admonished. 

 

“But I’m right!” 

 

FN-49, who stood behind FNC, averted her gaze and chuckled dryly.

 

“Also! Who’s gonna cook if Springfield goes?” Skorpion cried out. She stabbed her fork into a slice of meat and raised it high. “I don’t think anyone else could make rations taste this good!” 

 

The sauce droplets hung precariously over her head.

 

“Skorpion, don’t play with your food.” 

 

She stuffed the slice into her mouth. Her fork wriggled. “Mmmph whok baving!”

 

“Eat, then speak.” 

 

“Does anyone want tea?” Wafting scent of freshly-brewed tea. Springfield seamlessly inserted herself into the gathering crowd, behind M4, steaming kettle in hand. 

 

SVD sighed. Lev grunted. They raised their mugs, which were quickly filled. The markswoman elbowed Lev’s ear lightly as she raised her mug. “Don’t call me Snow.” 

 

Lev hid his smirk behind his cup. “Why not? It’s cute.” 

 

The tea carried a strong lavender flavour.

 

“You are not having any chocolate tomorrow, FNC.” Springfield winked at Washington as she lowered her kettle towards Washington’s mug. 

 

“Awwwww,” FNC whined. “What did I do?” 

 

Washington nodded at Springfield. He then shot FNC a glare, then nodded at FN-49. The markswoman nodded back, then boxed her misbehaving charge’s right ear.

 

FNC winced. “Owww.”

 

Fidgeting, M4 glanced at Sop II twice, each time pleadingly. Sop II growled at 416, who, with arms folded, calmly ignored her. The black-garbed T-Doll was oblivious to her sister’s distress.

 

M4 looked down at the tablet. She seemed to have shrunk amidst the crowd gathered around her, of which SVD and Lev formed its most outspoken members.

 

“Pass me that tablet.” 

 

M4 blinked. Her lips quivered, her gaze fell upon the false eyes. She then looked upon the tablet, then hesitantly pushed it towards my side of the table. Seeing this, SVD moved away from M4 and towards me, while Lev turned his attention away from M4.

 

Forest along the mountain pass, ending at the riverside cliff. Two bridges. A short one connecting the forest path to the islet in the middle of the rushing river. The longer one, a suspension bridge connected the islet to the winding cliff road towards Intruder’s stronghold. 

 

Jaeger rifles’ effective range, one kilometre. Trees and thickets obstruct their fire. Perhaps the range would be shorter. 

 

Vespids, Rippers, Dragoons and Dinergates under the cover of Jaeger fire. Vespids’ effective range, two hundred and fifty metres. Have to provide suppressive fire for the Ripper and Dragoon advance. Perhaps one hundred metres. One hundred to two hundred metres…

 

M4 looked at her cup, then back at Springfield questioningly. Springfield nodded, still wearing that gentle smile. 

 

Sop II ground her teeth at 416. The silver-haired T-Doll continued to ignore her. She met the false eyes’ gaze, her green eyes carried a tint of expectations. 

 

M4 sipped on her tea silently. Her expression lit up, and she gave it a longer sip. Springfield’s smile took on a self-satisfied quality before she diverted her attention towards Sop II, who had made her antagonism audible. 

 

Lev and SVD shot silent glares at each other as they drank their tea. SV-98 gazed upon them and shook her head. She snuck up beside SVD and poked her side, her arm hidden behind Sop II. SVD winced, grimaced, glanced at her partner, then rolled her eyes at Lev. Washington cracked a grin upon seeing the sight. MG4, anxious, tugged at his sleeve, capturing his attention.

 

FNC stuck out her tongue. Skorpion grinned. She drank her tea, then also stuck her tongue out. 

 

The lavender tea was sweetened with honey.

 

Put down the cup roughly. Made a hollow ring. The present personnel ceased their activities and paid rapt attention.

 

“We’ll not comb the entirety of the forest for hidden Sangvis. The Sangvis will spring their ambush here.” False finger pressed against the display, behind the shorter South Bridge. “At the forest side of the South Bridge. They will cut off our retreat, force us to cross the bridge into Jaeger crossfire…” Finger moved north-east, “...set upon us from this cliff. We will concentrate our efforts at this two-kilometre square area behind the South Bridge. One kilometre from the road, both sides...”

 

“Ahhhh!” The bench rocked back, Sop II had stood up. She waved her arms energetically over her head, almost striking 416. “It’s AR-15! 15!” 

 

AR-15 strode along the aisle. She was followed by FAL, BAR and Sturmgewehr, and overtaken by Sudaev and the Night Guards. 

 

“Sestra!” Sudaev cried as she collided with Papasha. “They didn’t do anything to you, did they?” Papasha shook her head frantically. Her face reddened under Sudaev’s tightening embrace. 

 

“Oi! Lev!” Grigori grinned as he raised his right fist. “You still alive, bratan?” 

 

“Don’t jinx me,” Lev exulted, as they knocked their knuckles together. 

 

Dimas closed towards the bench behind them. “Babushka!” He planted his palm on her head. “Why are you alone?”

 

Nagant remained silent for a moment. Her shoulders rose, she spoke ebulliently, “I’m letting the young ones have their time, cheeky Dimas.” Her left shoulder jerked back, she must have puffed out her chest. “Hmmmph! I’m a considerate senior!” 

 

Dimas hunched, his hand rubbed her head exuberantly. “Awwww, little Babushka feels left out. She doesn’t know what the young ones are talking about.” 

 

“H-Hey!” Nagant tightened her grip on Dimas’ wrist. “You are being rude to your elder!” She made three attempts to half-heartedly shove it away. “Take your hands off me!” 

 

Dimas laughed and rubbed her head with intensifying vigour.

 

416 narrowed her eyes at AR-15’s approach. She sidestepped past the waving Sop II and repositioned herself at SVD’s right side. 

 

“Here’s the Hunter-Killer!” Lev announced AR-15’s arrival. FN-49 pulled FNC away from Lev, as he brought his hand down on the newly-vacated seat. “Sit! Sit!” 

 

AR-15 stonily regarded him, then turned her attention towards M4. “Welcome back, 15.” M4 smiled softly. AR-15 sighed and replied, “You still can’t handle crowds, M4?” M4 froze and kept silent. AR-15 sighed again. “I hope she didn’t cause any trouble, Commander.” 

 

“She didn’t.” 

 

AR-15 narrowed her eyes sceptically. She looked about, and her eyes fell upon the tablet. “That is a command tablet, isn’t it, Commander?” 

 

“...Yes.”

 

“You are having a strategic meeting? Here?” Her astonishment leaked through.

 

“Yeah!” Skorpion raised her hand and waved it. “Got a problem with that?” 

 

AR-15 glared at Skorpion for a moment. “No.” 

 

AR-15 took the seat recently vacated by FNC, beside Lev. M4, seeing this, lowered her eyes glumly. 

 

“Say, 15,” Lev began his inquiry, “It’s not every day a Grifon T-Doll takes on a Ringleader by herself and wins. How did you do it?” 

 

“Showed me her back.” AR-15 folded her arms. “Rookie mistake. Got myself free and shot her knee from behind.”

 

“While she’s distracted by her minions turning on each other?” 416’s inquired, her tone cool like autumn breeze.

 

AR-15 smirked briefly. “Yes. You are?”

 

“HK416.” She pursed her lips, then stated, “You were the one scrambling the Sangvis IFF signal.”

 

“I’m surprised you can tell.” 

 

416, expression still stony, replied. “I know a little about e-war.”

 

“15!” Sop II cried, horrified. “416 is a bad person! She disrespected M4!” 

 

“Sop II!” M4 reprimanded. She was tense, on edge. “I’m sorry, Miss 416,” she then apologised with a quick bow. 

 

416 glared at them both but kept her silence.

 

“A hack of this scale is not achievable without the use of external specialist equipment.” Washington started. “How did you achieve this?”

 

AR-15 arched her brow, though she did not pursue any inquiries. She replied with an even tone. “I had been working on breaking through Hunter’s deadlock the past week. Along the way, I discovered a method to intrude into the Sangvis network.”

 

“You did?!” Sop II exclaimed. AR-15’s brow twitched as Sop II continued her exasperation, “How? We were running and hiding from the Sangvis the entire time!” 

 

“Sop II, learn to multitask.” 

 

Sop II laid her chin on the table and puffed out her cheeks. “Muuuuuu,” she muttered.

 

M4 smiled. She caught the false eyes, dropped her gentle smile and lowered her eyes. 

 

“As I was saying…” AR-15 cleared her throat, “...I managed to find a way to intrude into the Sangvis network. As I was in there, I tried to find the means to mass scramble their IFF. However, the only way to do so with what I have is through a Ringleader.”

 

Sop II shot upright, her ruby eyes widened, “Is this why you surrendered to Hunter?” 

 

AR-15 sighed. “Took you long enough to figure it out.” She then continued, “I had to get close to Hunter to usurp her command authorisation. The entire time, she didn’t suspect anything. I just needed her to fully commit her forces against your command post and drop her guard entirely. However…” 

 

She shot Sop II a fearsome glare. “This idiot leapt out of the helo and ran into Jaeger fire!”

 

“I did!” Sop II burst into a childlike laugh, filled with joy. She made finger-gun gestures. “It’s very fun! They are like ‘pew pew pew’ and I was like ‘bang bang bang’!” Her ruby eyes lit up, she leaned towards AR-15. “So you saw me? How did I do? Did I do good?” 

 

AR-15’s brow twitched. She withheld comment. Instead, she pushed Sop II away. 

 

“Awwww…” Sop II whined.

 

“...Hence the battle on the fifth floor of City Hall. How you sustained your shoulder injury.” 

 

AR-15 blinked and turned her attention towards the false eyes. 

 

“The Sangvis pressed us hard despite Hunter withholding a portion of her forces as reserves. Our victory was in doubt, yet you were confident we could weather this storm.”

 

“I was sure you will succeed, Commanders.” She smiled. “I was in the network when you extracted your echelons from the Telecoms Building.”

 

“That was M4.”

 

AR-15 blinked and stared at M4. The command unit scratched her chin and averted her gaze. “I couldn’t have done it without Miss 416 as an echelon leader and Miss FAL’s assistance.”

 

“Do not undersell yourself, M4. Such acts do not befit a leader.”

 

“Follow your own advice, Cetin Yilmaz.” 

 

Washington did not smile.

​

​

​

…

 

|Sighs|

 

It has been a trying day, Captain. 

 

As predicted, the operation hadn’t gone smoothly. We could have failed, were it not for M4.

 

…

 

She needs to be more confident with herself. Her competence belied her experience; there were no deaths under her watch. I cannot say the same about myself.

 

…

 

FMG-9. Ingram. One perished, one at Death’s Door.

 

…

 

That accursed Springfield...I could have used that drink.

 

…

…

 

|Sighs|

 

…

 

I feel obsolete.

 

…

 

A dry, worn-out husk. 

 

Twitching, quivering, light of life flickering, yet to extinguish.

 

Dragged out of the mausoleum, resuscitated, propped up on this crumbling throne. A steward, keeping the banner aloft, the ruptured drums beat, the air drowned in droning war chants. Keep these embers lit. 

 

...

 

Embers...warming the seat for someone younger….less weary...to take his or her rightful place. Someone more fitting, more capable to lead. To rejuvenate this Jihad.

 

Jihad, not of my own.

 

...

 

My pact with Grifon’s Warlord requires the neutralisation of the Sangvis Ferri threat. Yet I feel as though I am just another body to fill the ranks. Maybe...with M4’s maturation, Kryuger will deem it fit to release me from this pact, let me return home.

 

…

 

I should get back to work. More orders for Kalina.

 

...

 

No more mistakes this time. 

​

​

​

2347

​

Inundated dry tablet scraped against the parched tongue, the powdery trail at its wake promptly washed away.

 

“Get some sleep, Commander,” Mikhail suggested. He scribbled into his notebook. “A proper night’s sleep will improve your mood.”

 

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

 

He looked up, frowning. “I hope you do, for your own sake. It’s good for your health.” He tapped on his temple. “Especially for here.”

 

Cold fluids washing down the powdery aftertaste. 

 

“... I’m leaving.”

 

“Good night, Commander.” He resumed scribbling into his notebook.

 

Dry, chilly air brushed against the true cheek. The darkened monuments marred the firmament’s endless expanse.

 

Lightless windows, silent streets. Summer Triangle guiding the weary sojourning mind home.

 

How far away am I from home? Captain, Phillipes, Ahmed, were they all still there, in the dust-swept abyss? Unburied, a feast for vermin? When I return to sanctify them, will I even recognise them?

 

“...Kommandant. Are you alright?” 

 

Sturmgewehr. Skorpion snored softly on her back. 

 

“...You are still awake?”

 

She smiled wearily. “Someone has to collect her from the command tent.”

 

“...I see.” 

 

“Good night, Kommandant.” She nodded and departed.

 

“Good night.”

 

Whining servos, numbing throbs. Dirt compacted by heavy steps. Looming canvas hid the tranquil stars, eerie blue glow beating back the flinching dark.  

 

…

 

“You seek my audience?” 

 

“Ja, Commander.” 416 emerged from beside the tent’s flap. Posture slightly hunched. Something was amiss. 

 

“Commander, I have to inform you…” She pursed her lips, inhaled, exhaled, then continued with a heavy sigh, “...G11, Deele and I will be departing your company the night before the operation in subsector 4.” She bowed slightly. “I’m sorry.”

 

“...Are you returning to your special task force?” 

 

She nodded. “...Ja.”

 

“You still have six days, six nights with us. What will you be doing until then?”

 

“Enjoy the remainder of my vacation time.” She smiled ruefully. “Leader’s words. Not mine.” 

 

“I see.” 

 

She held her ground, her expression stony, her posture stiff. Emerald eyes gleamed in the azure glow, anxiously awaiting a response. 

 

“...the ambush in Delta Three. You tried to warn me before it was sprung.”

 

“...Ja.” She nodded. “Dormant dummy trap. My team used this tactic on multiple occasions against the Sangvis. However…” she frowned, “I never expected them to use it against us.”

 

“Is there anything else your team had used, that they may use against us?”

 

She shook her head. “I’m not at liberty to say.” 

 

“416, please.”

 

She averted her gaze for a moment. “I’ll talk to her, but I don’t expect her to agree to share. However...” She raised her inflexion, “Even if she doesn’t agree to it, I can still impart some of my experience and training to the others. Get them up to speed for the challenges ahead.” She blinked, cleared her throat and lowered her tone. “If you will permit me.”

 

“...Permission granted.”