A/N: Hello again everyone! What we have here is what I believe (or hope) is the first or at least most noticeable…ahem…yuri (no, not the character) story for Command and Conquer: Red Alert 3. I will be straight with you, I don't know much about the game, only the basic plot, but luckily, that doesn't matter, because I have majorly turned the plot, timeline, and possibly character traits of Natasha and Tanya (yes the blonde one) and whoever else I throw in there into the meat grinder and then ate it and puked it out, so if that bothers you (or the explicit slash, fem or otherwise), just hit the back arrow. It's at the top-left corner of your screen. See it? Anyways, full summary is below this, and then begins (I hope) one of my best stories to date (not saying much). Enjoy! Oh, one last thing: in this story, WWII did occur, but Russia was strong enough anyways to attack again, so that is why there can be a Nazi.
Full Summary: By the end of the 1960's, the Allies had fallen to their Soviet rivals. The U.S. in particular has been hit hard, but when the Empire of Sun Rising armies force the advancing Soviets to a halt and begin to push back hard, those conquered by their hated overlords must now fight with them in order to stop the much greater threat. With the help of the resurrected Nazi SS general Vollrath "Razorwire" Engel, her personal War Bear Mikhail, and a captive Special Agent Tanya Adams, Natasha Volkova must lead her tired and demoralized nation against a fanatical and unstoppable enemy, as well as discover the intentions of a secret brotherhood that holds unimaginable power globally, and what exactly their interest in her is about.
Meeting The Crew:
It was almost evening in New York City. Half the day was gone, but so much had changed that had a person seen it in the morning, and then in the evening, they might not believe it. Gone were the gleaming skyscrapers and bustling streets alive with people. No more did life bustle on these empty streets.
A Russian conscript named Aleksandr patrolled with his squad mates, roaming the streets, lazily swinging his rifle to and fro, hopping over rubble, blood, and corpses. And they did not care one bit. As they made their rounds, they chattered endlessly over the costly but glorious victory in New York that ensured their ability to conquer the U.S., whom without the rest of the Allies would fall soon after.
MiG's rocketed overhead and Tesla tanks thundered by on the road next to them. Passing comments were made as they finished and began to head back to camp. They however, stopped cold, and felt fear begin to sink its icy black tendrils into their hearts.
In front of them, was a large cleared out area used as a landing zone. A massive Kirov airship had just landed and fellow troops began to spill out. However, it was not the arriving troops that scared them.
Stepping down the ramp was a young man of about seventeen years of age dressed in full black SS officer garb, complete with the overcoat. Blonde hair, crystal blue eyes (the right one covered by a jagged scar), and a not-quite square but still strong jaw were offset by pale, almost ghostly white skin and full lips that had the color of ones on a person who asphyxiated. They were pulled into a sneer, revealing tightly packed, pointy but thick teeth. He stood with an imposing height of about six feet and four inches tall with a broad muscular chest and lean but equally muscular legs that were visible even under the uniform.
The conscript and his men ran past the debarking troops up to a debarking sergeant. Waiting until the Nazi had left the area to go supervise the unloading, Aleksandr said, "Pardon me comrade, but do you know who has just gotten of this ship with you?" He hooked a thumb at the man, who was currently talking to another soldier who had apparently done something to upset him. Further inspection showed that the trooper had accidentally knocked off his hat.
"Da, comrade! That is the infamous SS general Vollrath Engel, youngest SS officer ever, who killed more Americans and even our own comrades himself and with his forces than any other commander in the war than any other man." The sergeant said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I am only surprised by the rank he reached. There were many boys as young as twelve out there fighting for the Germans, as well as us."
This did not satisfy the men in front of him, one of which who asked, "we know that, but how is he here? He was executed by the Americans at the end of the war." Shaking his head, he said, "From what I understand, he is the result of our scientists first attempts at resurrection of the dead. It was mostly successful but-."
Several gunshots rang out nearby. All of the Reds turned to see a smoking pistol in the hands of Vollrath, who had shot the trooper he had been harassing. "The side affects of the resurrection process are extremely short and violent temper, and a few other things I forget."
Vollrath had since wrapped up his business and strode over to Aleksandr's squad and the sergeant. "Where is the Commissar?" His German accent was still thick on his tongue, but he seemed to have the Russian language down. The sergeant pointed over at a rapidly growing group of large tents being set up a small distance away from the airfield. "Down in the center tent. He will probably be by the-."
He stopped talking as the German turned and left without another word, boots thumping lightly as he walked away, his coat billowing almost like a dark cape. He sighed. "He is also very arrogant and rude to those he deems incompetent or beneath him. He might treat you better if you earn his respect in battle, but that would be very hard to do. Anyways comrades, I would love to stay and chat, but have you heard the news?"
Aleksandr and his men looked at each other before shaking their heads. "The word from the Commissars is that the genuine Natasha Volkova will be arriving to oversee the capture of the U.S., and she will be arriving here in a few hours with her personal War Bear Mikhail!"
The Aleksandr, his men, and anyone that heard it gasped. ALL of Mother Russia knew of the legendary sniper and her heroic and near mythical acts and victories against the Allies. She was a national hero and a common household name. She was like a goddess on the battlefield and an able commander when things got rough.
"Are you sure comrade?" The sergeant nodded enthusiastically. "I also reviewed who is to be in the four squads to greet her, and you are one of them!" Aleksandr's men cheered, as did three other squads not far off. "Now go prepare for her arrival. She will be here in two hours!"
xxxxx
"Ms. Volkova, we should be touching down in about five minutes." Came the voice over the speaker in the private jet carrying Natasha to New York. Silently acknowledging that fact, she climbed, a bit reluctantly, out of the bed with the beautiful flight attendant who had seen to her every need.
Coming to a surprisingly smooth stop, the planes engines shut off. Just as Natasha was about to exit, the pilot, a rather elderly but kind man named Pyotir who had been her pilot ever since she began military service, gently grabbed her wrist.
"Please be careful, I heard from a friend of mine you are going to be paired with a very heartless and evil person for this assignment." the man warned, but they shared a warm smile and exchanged a brief hug. "Take care of your self." She gave him a lopsided grin, teasing, "Of course, don't I always?"
Playfully ruffling her hair, he reached up and took off her red snipers beret, which he had worn during the flight like he usually did. She stopped trying to guess why long ago. She re-straightened her hair with a mock-pout and slipped on the beret when he handed it to her before exiting the plane down the stairs to the tarmac.
She surveyed her immediate surroundings as she descended. There were four squads making two columns on each side of her and a captain stood a few feet from her, whom quickly approached. "Welcome to the new face of America, Ms. Volkova! I have been ordered to escort you to the head quarters. Please follow me."
xxxxx
Vollrath had decided within ten minutes that everyone in the Soviet army, excluding his dear friend 2nd Commissar Viktor Bytolev, where generally stupid and couldn't make a decision with being ordered to save their life, or had no balls to speak of and were total cowards.
Viktor had been his friend even during the war between Russia and Germany, and was responsible for persuading the Leaders of Russia to pick him as the test subject and even let him wear his old uniform. He was the only diamond on this beach of mediocrity though. Vollrath was bored out of his skull and wished there was a woman around to fuck, or at least a stupid grunt or worthless American to kill.
He was, however, curious about the person he was supposed to assist in taking the U.S. with. He had only been told the name Volkova. He assumed it was a man they held in high regard, since he believed only men could fight so well on the battlefield. He certainly wasn't sexist, but with the Russians, names were so hard to figure out. Even Viktor seemed to get excited though, so he would let this man have a chance before he judged him.
About an hour later, he got his chance. One minute, they were all sitting and drinking vodka, having a good time. Next thing he knew Viktor and all the other men in the tent had jumped up and saluted. Vollrath gave Viktor a look of questioning, and then downed the last of his vodka so he could salute as well, but then a hand shoved him on the shoulder into the table with hard force.
That was the last straw. Putting back on his hat, he stood up and turned, ready for blood, only to see a stunning woman in the place of the man he expected. She had a very short black skirt, a red beret, black knee-high boots, and a dragunov sniper rifle over her black long-sleeved jacket, which left her entire toned mid-riff exposed. Beautiful gold-brown hair went down to her shoulders, accentuating her vibrant hazel eyes and luscious red lips. Standing only about five feet eleven inches, she had to look up at him, but showed no fear whatsoever.
There were not many times that Vollrath was at a loss for words, but this was one of them. He wasn't expecting a woman to do something like that. Slowly, he turned to Viktor, unsure of what to do. Back in his SS regiment, if a woman had done that, BAD things would have happened to her, but he wasn't there. Viktor was no help, just shrugging slightly but still saluting.
"Um…Volkova?" He ventured, still a little unsure. His anger had subsided, but he wasn't about to back down. "Of course I am! And I assume you are the one they call Engel?" She said, waving a hand, after which all the other Reds relaxed, but still watched with rapt interest.
Vollrath merely nodded. After his stupor wore off, he grew angry again, and ended up shoving her too. Hitting the table behind her, she moved back up to him again, not moving. The tension in the room was palpable, but luckily Viktor moved next to them, saying, "Look, I'm sure you both are itching to move, seeing as you both have been flying all day. I know, let's go to one of the slave processions and pick out our own little servants, my treat!"
Natasha turned to him. "What do you mean?" Viktor smiled, glad that at least for the moment, the tension had eased. "All of the captives we take can be purchased before we ship them to the motherland to work on the farms and such. Since we are the conquerors we get first pick! What do you say?" Vollrath smiled and nodded at Viktor before both were looking at Natasha, waiting for her answer. She thought for a second, before looking up. "Okay, let's do it."
xxxxx
A/N: So, there it is. To clarify, I am not trying to be offensive when the whole 'slave' thing came up, they are just a conquered people, and it happens. Plus, it IS the Soviet Union: you know, KGB and torture and stuff like that, so I wouldn't put it past them to do this. They are Communists after all, which would explain why they resurrected a Nazi. The Reds weren't exactly morally restrained, were they? Anyways, be on the lookout for the next chapter, hopefully coming soon, in which Tanya is introduced. Until next time!