(09/7/2056 | 10:22)
As Hsu sat at the desk in his office, he found himself wondering why new problems reared their heads as soon as he fixed the old ones.
The money issue was solved now. For the past two weeks he'd had every team on the base taking on whatever contracts they could to make up for their previous deficit. Kalina was even gushing about if they kept this up, they could all walk away with a little bonus by the end of September. Maybe even some time off for the staff.
Each of the new teams had gotten fully into the swing of things as well. Thompson's squad was racking up a higher completion rate than expected, probably because of their leader's refusal to get shown up. G36's team had gotten M1897 back into the fold, and they were getting better as time went on.
But then there was IWS' echelon.
For a team that had everything going for them, they were surprisingly disappointing. They completed their tasks, but lacked efficiency. Their cohesion was laughable, with the three newer dolls each seeming to buck the guidance of their superiors. Even after he downgraded them to lower risk missions, they dragged their feet.
It was obvious why. IWS' file showed a varied career within Griffin. She had a wide swath of experience through her time with the company, from explosive ordnance disposal to special reconnaissance missions. But none of her Commanders spoke well of her, constantly referring to her skittish nature and clumsiness.
Beyond that, the matter of M4A1 was still hanging over his head.
She had been under his 'protection' for two weeks now. Despite his best efforts, and even with Helian's assistance, he couldn't find anything about her previous records. The fact was that the strange doll wasn't part of Griffin; she was a 16Lab operative. Which meant that everything about her and her 'sisters' was behind a wall of political red tape.
He groaned as he felt a headache come on. It had taken him months to get his first two teams in working order. He'd asked for more men, he needed more men. And yet Griffin seemed intent on continuing to send him the misfits. Even the dolls which on paper were a cut above had something about them that rendered them mediocre or undesirable.
"Master Hsu? Are you alright?" G36 asked, floating over from her dusting to check on the man. He shook his head at her as she came close, taking a glass of water and attempting to drown the migraine.
"Gretel, when Ninety-Seven showed up, she had problems with her combat drills." Hsu began, half questioning. His maid nodded along, taking his glass and refilling it with the nearby pitcher. "How'd you help her get up to snuff?"
G36 looked at him for a moment, not understanding the idiom, before the wires finally crossed. A few thoughts tumbled in her head, reminding her about those early weeks as she handed the glass back over to her Commander.
"It wasn't easy…" She admitted, wincing at the memory of M1897 somehow shooting herself with a training shell. The rubber round had somehow managed to ricochet off of the target and right back into her eye. "I honed her strengths, then once she gained confidence, shifted to her weaker areas. Something I've had to do yet again."
Hsu hummed along, understanding her frustration. At the very least, all of the dolls had fresh backups now. They wouldn't have to worry about another incident like that for the near future.
"If I may, Master. We've yet to fail a contract since being raised to full operational status." G36 reminded him, digging two tablets of aspirin-carbon tablets from her apron and slipping them into his drink. "Why do you seem so dissatisfied?"
"Because we aren't ready for Sangvis." He pointed out, taking his glass and quickly drinking the slew down.
"It is possible that Miss Helian overestimated the threat." G36 rationalized.
The Commander shook his head, putting the glass down and bringing up another pair of papers. Two blown-up satellite images with markings all over them, pointing out new Sangvis outposts being established on the eastern half of Sector 09. City ruins and abandoned depots had already been overrun, even the outpost where they'd fought Scarecrow was taken over by the renegade robots.
"We aren't ready." He repeated. "If they keep reinforcing at this rate, they'll overwhelm us with numbers alone. And we still can't find the new ringleader organizing them."
"I doubt they're close by. These Sangvis seem to be running on standard protocols, no advanced tactics beyond the set battle plan." G36 assured, taking the pictures in hand as she tried to analyse them herself.
"They've gone to ground. Probably spooked after we took out the first two." The Commander said, cursing his luck. Their forces had taken out two reconnaissance ringleaders, only now to leave the real Sangvis commander hiding out of sight.
G36's brow furrowed, the direness of their situation truly being revealed to her. "Do you have a plan?"
Hsu nodded, rubbing the side of his head as the pain finally began to flow out of his brain. He had a plan, but it was risky. And with all the variables, doubts and issues present, there was no way he'd follow through normally. If it worked, they'd be able to stay above water for a while longer. If it didn't… the base would be wide open. Sangvis would take them out with ease.
There could be no more combat deaths. There could be no more grievous injuries. They didn't have the resources and they didn't have the manpower.
But more than all of that, he didn't have a choice. It was time to get proactive.
(10/7/2056 | 11:00)
The leaders of the first three echelons sat in the Command room, watching Hsu and Kalina as they stood before a projector screen.
After a day of planning, and some close scouting carried out by Helian's team, the Commander had finalized the operation. The first true, coordinated effort between all three teams under his purview. What would make or break not just the leaders, but likely the future of the sector.
Each of the Captains seemed aware of what was being said, but in various stages of attentiveness. Thompson leaned back in her chair, talking on her phone. G36 sat prim and proper, glaring at the screen with a notepad and pen in hand. IWS watched, a bucket of nerves as usual.
Hsu released a silent sigh, knowing he wasn't going to get much better reception than this, before he began.
"Who here can summarize the concept of 'defeat in detail'?" Hsu asked, focusing on the three. G36 elbowed Thompson, making the American drop her phone. Both shared a murderous glare, but neither moved to answer the question.
IWS cautiously raised her hand, waiting for permission until she spoke. Once given, she audibly gulped before beginning.
"A s-smaller force taking on a larger one piece by piece, Kommandant." She described, looking to her peers as she smiled sheepishly. "I believe it is also called 'divide and conquer' in English?"
Hsu grunted, activating the projector. A map of the area, the same map that he'd been mulling over with G36 the day before, appeared. Except now, it had been drawn over again. Arrows showing paths of advance, markings designating various possible landing zones. Estimated troop counts at each of the highlighted Sangvis outposts.
"This is what's left of Alexandrovsk Oblast. The locals call this region..." He continued, trailing off and looking to Kalina.
"Misyachne oblychchya." Kalina said, happy that the Commander wasn't going to terrorize them with his butchering of Ukrainian. "'The Moon's Face'. It got the nickname after it was carpet-bombed near the end of the war, craters everywhere. Great for sledding in the winter!"
Hsu resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but took the opening before Kalina rattled off more useless facts. "Sangivs Ferri has established a long series of outposts here, stretching all the way to the east. These outposts are being used to store combat units, probably preparing for an offensive on our homefront."
He stepped closer to the projector, placing his finger on the western-most outpost. "Enter, Operation 'Cossack.' The objective is simple, a recurring search and destroy mission hitting the two most threatening Sangvis outposts. By doing this we should hobble Sangvis' manpower and get more time for us to fortify."
All of the Captains focused themselves now, with even Thompson pocketing her device to watch the screen with a new curiosity. Hsu flipped to the next slide, showing a diagram of the prefabricated Sangvis installation along with his plan of attack.
"Echelon One will land on the outskirts and provide long-range fire support. Echelon two will kick the front door down, while echelon three will fast rope into the outpost's courtyard and disable the early warning system." He explained. "Once inside, break everything but the central computer. Bring semtex, bring thermite grenades, bring whatever you need to make sure it's a slag-heap."
The slide shifted again, showing the distance between the first outpost and the second. "From there, all teams will advance together on foot to the second point of interest. Same plan as last time, but with echelons two and three both moving together in a frontal assault. After that, we'll exfiltrate."
Kalina then flicked back to the first slide, letting that remain as the backdrop as Hsu looked to the peanut gallery for questions. Each of the dolls asked for a few more details; the expected timetable along with how many enemies they would encounter. If support was available, and why Helian had been conspicuously absent all day. Soon enough, they were satisfied, and each of them shuffled out to prepare their teams.
All except IWS, whom Hsu called to stay behind.
"You're going to be helping Command for this mission." Hsu told her, taking the wind out of the Austrian's sails as she was relegated to the home guard. "M-Four is leading your echelon, she has more experience in these kinds of missions."
The sniper grew pale, taken aback from the sudden reassignment, but Hsu said no more. He had already briefed M4A1 and AUG, and was already turning his focus over to the planning table once again. He barked a series of orders to Kalina, who sped back out of the room.
IWS stood there, feeling smaller than ever.
(12:20)
Before coming to Sector 09, M4A1 had never watched a movie before. She'd never eaten brownies, or popcorn. She'd never sat on a long couch, listening to other girls like her talk about things other than missions or old war stories. There was so much she'd experienced in the short time she was here.
But more than that, she'd never worked with dolls other than her sisters. Now she had to lead them.
When the Commander informed her of his intentions, she was utterly floored. Even if she had experience in aerial assault, being given leadership of a team was something that she'd never expected. Hsu seemed to rarely talk to her, nor did he seem to think highly of her in general. Though in truth, he seemed detached from it all. Even when they first met, the man remained cold and professional.
Perhaps that was simply how Commanders were in Griffin. Before this, she'd never worked with them either.
"Stop fidgeting with your rifle." AUG demanded as she sat across from her temporary Captain. "It's annoying."
A blush came across the elite doll, but she stopped her motions. The other dolls were each distracted with their own prerogatives. S.A.T.8 sat on the edge, legs dangling out as a coil of rope rested in her lap. Type 100 did the same on the other side, though occasionally she'd turn her head to look at the two senior dolls. Meanwhile K11 sat in the co-pilot seat, sharing wild stories with Santiago about her time as a laboratory assistant in Korea.
"If you're worried about their ability to take directives, you don't need to." AUG assured frigidly, not a hint of compassion as she spoke. "They know their place, even if they can be a bit headstrong."
M4 nodded her head, pulling up a minimap to see how close they were to their landing zone. The clock was winding down, soon enough the Commander would order the assault to begin.
"I won't let you down." M4A1 promised to AUG, but the black clad woman gave the smallest of shrugs.
"I don't much care what you do." Was AUG's only response, killing any and all dialogue between the girls. The sound of rotors filled the empty space between them until they reached the cusp of the outpost's airspace.
"All teams, sound off." The Commander signaled.
"This is Liberator, ready to rock." Thompson called out, raring to go and almost giddy in her voice.
"Festung, awaiting green light." G36 confirmed, prim and proper.
M4A1 pulled the microphone of her headset down, giving the map one last look and steadying her breath before speaking. "This is Arcangel. ETA is two mikes."
A few more moments of silence as the helicopter grew closer. The Captain got up from her seat, peering out of the side-door and over Type 100's head to look upon the encroaching outpost with her own eyes.
"All teams, weapons free!"
A flurry of tracer rounds flew out from one of the surrounding craters, cutting down the Sangvis sentries that stood on the wall. M4 was barely able to catch a glimpse of Echelon 2 sprinting across the badlands as the suppression kept pouring on, a few grenades flying forwards and slamming into the ramparts.
The helicopter lurched to the right, small arms fire peppering the underbelly as they came to a halt. Hostile fire died down, the defenders either being shot or forced into cover by the two external echelons. A green light came alive in the transport canopy, signalling that it was time for the dolls to make their descent.
Both S.A.T.8 and Type 100 dropped their coils, rushing down soon afterwards. K11 and AUG descended after them, with M4 bringing up the rear. Each of the dolls zipped down, a few purple plasma bolts soaring past. But as M4's feet hit the dirt, both the ropes went limp and fell.
AUG and Type 100 split off, running for the door to allow the breach team's entry. Meanwhile M4 took the remaining girls, breaking into a sprint across the open area. Empty racks littered the courtyard, Sangvis weapons hanging within. Their design was almost alien, clearly not made with the intent to be used by any human or humanoid. But it showed that most of the dolls in this outpost were still likely in storage.
Most. Not all.
As the trio approached the central structure, a figure appeared on the roof. Standing tall was a Sangvis android with short-cropped hair and what looked to be a minigun. Like most other Sangvis, a visor covered it's eyes. Even from afar it looked emotionless and uncannily unhuman.
As soon as the barrels began to spool, the dolls dove for cover behind the weapon crates.
What followed was a hail of fire that none of them had ever encountered before. Plasma bolts flew at them at an astounding rate, like a sheet of rain in a snowstorm. The dirt below them was burned as the shots dug in, the strange smell of literal scorched earth surrounding them. S.A.T.8 triggered her special equipment, attempting to round the corner and fire off a slug at the Striker, but the sheer volume of death shattered her energy shield in moments.
"Cazzo!" The shotgunner cursed as she went back behind her cover, looking over to where K11 and M4A1 were keeping shelter. "Eleven, can you please blow that thing up?!"
"Do I look suicidal?!" The grenadier yelled back, refusing to move an inch from her spot. Doll or not, getting shot still hurt. And getting shot for no reason wasn't high on any sensible doll's priority list.
M4 gave her two remaining teammates a glance, pondering the thought of recalling AUG and Type 100 to attempt a flank on the shooter. But pulling them off of their task would only cause grief for the assaulting team, and there was just as much chance that they would get bogged down on their way here.
The elite doll focused on where the rounds were striking the ground, using her neural cloud project a trace of where the rounds were coming from. She then began to remove the Sangvis rifles from their storage, letting them fall to the wayside while a totally bewildered K11 watched.
Once the rifles were removed, she lifted up her carbine and pressed the muzzle of the silencer against the thin metal backdrop. Her digimind carried out some last second calculations, letting her triangulate the Striker's position, before she squeezed the trigger twice.
Two three-round bursts punched through, and a moment later, the shots stopped. S.A.T.8 looked around the corner, their assailant gone and a fresh pool of purple coolant already dripping off the roof.
"Dio mia…" S.A.T.8 exclaimed, looking over to their interim Captain in awe. M4 paid it no mind, tapping K11 on the shoulder as she rounded their cover and continued the echelon's advance towards their objective.
Once they reached the door, K11 produced an electronic device that she plugged into the keypad. A few moments later, it opened, revealing the inside of the central shed. Racks upon racks of Rippers and Vespids hung off the roof, like meat at a butchery. Their heads hung low and limbs limp, each of them still in stasis.
The plan had worked perfectly. They'd managed to kill or distract all of the sentries before an alarm could be raised. Or before they could activate their reserve.
"Jackpot!" K11 cried out, giggling with glee as she began to produce several thermite grenades. "Ooooooooooh, this is gonna be SWEET! I've been dying to try out this new compound mixture that I whipped up in the engineering bay!"
M4 gave the doll a faint smile, not sharing her lust for destruction but finding some nostalgia in it. There was some similarity to her sister, SOPMOD. How she was always itching for a fight, and relished the chance to tear something apart. But her work wasn't done. As she heard G36 announce that they were almost done with clearing the outside, she made her way over to the outpost's computer.
The next part of the plan was to rig the all-clear signal on a loop, ensuring that no quick response force would be sent to stop them before the second target was hit. Something that wouldn't be too difficult with her Electronic Warfare module, but she'd still need to focus.
The doll arrived at the computer, pulling a cord out from her robotic limb and jacking into the mainframe directly. There was a small shock as the foreign code tried to break through her defenses, but she'd withstood far more malicious security programs in the past. Her mind honed in on the task at hand, setting the signal as fast as she could.
Sadly, it left her wide open. A single vespid, having been stuck inside when the assault began, lifted it's rifle. As if it had been waiting for an intruder to stumble upon its last domicile, hiding among it's disabled kin. M4's motion tracker flared up a second too late, the elite doll turning to see the glow of her ambusher's weapon ignite itself as plasma erupted.
A shield appeared around her, taking the bolts before shattering. Simultaneously, two shotgun blasts tore through the vespid. One blowing it's head apart, the other punching a hole through its chest and sending it flying into the rack of still deactivated Rippers.
S.A.T.8 lowered her shotgun, smoke still coiling from the muzzle. As M4 stared at her with doe eyes, the Italian winked back, very much amused with herself and her quick reflexes.
"Happy to assist, Signora." She admonished, slipping two more shells into her weapon before returning to guard M4 as she worked.
(12:45)
"All teams reporting that they're on the move to the second Point of Interest, Commander!" Kalina announced.
The Commander nodded, standing before the room's holographic projection of the battle area. The teams left the area, having reduced everything par the central computer to scrap. As far as something as simple as a Sangvis AI would know, nothing abnormal would be occurring. No attack, no casualties, not even an irregularity in patrols. Enough room for them to maneuver deeper into the Moon's Face.
Four blips were shown over the sector map. The three echelons in the operation, along with Helian's team as they scouted the northern badlands. Kalina jumped between their mission and the larger one, relaying information and logging data.
As the logistics chief whipped from console to console, IWS stood in a nervous tizzy.
She was going to be demoted, that was the only possible explanation. Being pulled off of the mission so abruptly, and replaced with a true elite doll. When she'd watched the combat footage, she was floored with how fluid and mobile M4 seemed to act. The operator had no hesitation, acting as a spearhead and puncturing through the enemy with calculated motions.
IWS couldn't do that. Even if she wasn't imprinted with a lighter weapon, she'd never come close.
So the Austrian doll stood there, awaiting her fate. Perhaps she'd be sent back to Headquarters, reunited with her old team once again. Sent back to yellow zone duties, clearing out bombs and dispatching ELID mobs. Or maybe she'd be kept around, waiting aimlessly while AUG and the others fought on the front.
Yet again, she'd failed another Commander. Yet again, she'd been nothing more than painfully average.
"...IWS, you're crying." Hsu observed, having taken his gaze off of the map for but a moment. The sniper looked up, wiping her eyes dry in a flurry.
"J-just a malfunction with my lenses' self-cleaning mechanism." She quickly made up on the spot, not wanting to seem even more weak before the man. Whether her lie landed or not, she couldn't tell. He didn't seem the least bit invested.
She was left to her own devices for a while longer, chatter passing between the Commander and Kalina as they kept an eye on each team's status. The middle aged man seemed more nervous than usual, constantly double-checking the screens and flipping through different plans projected over the map. It was the first time she'd seen the Commander… or really any Commander at work during a mission.
That was when Hsu lifted a hand, gesturing over for her to come over. As she went to the man's side, his hand went into a compartment beneath the table, rooting around until he produced a book and a box.
...Her book and box. Which she'd left in the cafe last night.
"The average person doesn't spend their free time reading Clausewitz." Hsu remarked, offering both items back to the mortified doll. "But I'm going to guess a lot of books you've got by your bunk are martial in nature."
IWS didn't answer immediately, merely taking both of her items back. She held them close to her chest, red eyes wavering under the Commander's judgemental gaze. But as always, he didn't seem to be showing his real intent. There wasn't hostility behind his eyes, but approval was absent as well.
"It was a… 'hobby' that my supervisor in the library showed me." She explained. "He was an officer in the Army, like you."
Hsu nodded, thinking back to the different armies that had scoured the European theater. Even after the European Union had federalized, most of the nations within it still kept their armies under personal control. Just like how things worked in Canada, now. The 'United Republic' of North America was basically a continent agreeing to the same currency and foreign policy. Everything else was similar to how things had been prior to the war.
He hadn't heard much about how the Austrians fought in the war. They'd been in the south, he was in the north. His memories were of combat in Scandinavia, Northern Germany and the Benelux. Until the armistice was signed and he got shipped off to the Chinese Exclusion Zone.
"And the box?" He asked, not having opened it out of courtesy. IWS seemed surprised by this, having expected the Commander to have searched through her items. So she opened the simple wooden box up for him to see.
Inside were a great deal of miniatures. Toy soldiers, molded from plastic and painted to look like Napoleonic footmen. With painstaking detail, as well. Even the buttons on their uniforms had been given the same level of care as any other part of them.
"We um… we played table-top games together." IWS admitted, flush with a new wave of embarrassment. "It was how I became interested in military history. He was also my reference to Griffin."
The Commander nodded along, confirming his suspicions further. His hand went down to the console, tapping a few buttons to bring the holographic projection closer to them both.
"I want you to take a look at this set up. See if there's anything you think could be adjusted."
IWS blinked at the man, not fully registering the request. But he had said that he wanted her assistance during this operation. Though she'd resigned herself to believing that was simply a convenient excuse to pull her off the front.
The doll looked over the current battleplan. With the helicopters still refueling, each of the teams were relegated to the ground. Even with that, the second assault was similar to the first. In fact, it was effectively a direct copy, with the only change being that Echelons Two and Three would break down the front door together, then clearing their separate sections of the outpost.
The most glaring issue was that there was no way this would go past unnoticed. Even superior dolls, the odds of the assault teams clearing out all hostiles before the alarm was triggered were zero.
"...Why not have Thompson and her squad come through the second entrance?" IWS questioned, pointing to the gate on the opposite side of the outpost. She reasoned it made it more likely that they would take everyone out in time.
Hsu shook his head, pulling the map up to focus on the two-story wall surrounding the inhuman structure.
"Her team needs to be on overwatch duty to suppress any plunging fire." He explained, drawing a few arrows down from the ramparts with his finger. "It's slower, but it minimizes risk of injury. And it's unlikely that their stored dolls can be activated in time to stop the attack either way."
IWS furrowed her brow, but agreed with the man's assessment. The estimated time to deal with the twenty or so Sangvis on guard would be ten minutes at most. Powering up the dolls they had in storage was a lengthy procedure, especially with how most of the SF units they encountered were all pre-war models.
Still, something bothered her.
"Disabling two outposts and their garrisons won't be enough to handicap Sangvis Ferri." She reasoned. "A hundred dolls can be replaced as long as they have a passageway into the Sector."
Hsu grunted in the affirmative, well aware. "We don't have the forces to push them out entirely. It took all of our teams to even get this raid going."
"But we can't do this in perpetuity." IWS pointed out, her digimind pulling known combat data about SF's combat doctrine. "Even when running off of predetermined plans, Sangvis AI is capable of adapting over time. At best, we may be able to destroy… six more outposts over the next week?"
"And after that they'd catch on and counter us." The Commander deduced, growing frustrated.
IWS gulped, fearing that she'd drawn the man's ire by speaking so bluntly. Helping was one thing, casting doubt over a human's judgement was another.
Much to her relief, the Commander didn't end the conversation there. Instead, he blew the map further out, viewing the full overhead of the enemy outpost and its surrounding territory. The craters still covered the landscape, most of them large enough for two or three dolls to hide inside. But they were also tightly packed together, making the terrain uneven and difficult to advance through. Traversable by a small group, but a larger one would likely stumble over itself.
Especially in a combat situation. The former Battalion officer thought back to the old days.
"...Sangvis operates on a direct-command hive-mind." He said aloud, voicing his thought process for IWS to intercede if she wished. "They need some kind of command unit, human or otherwise, to do anything beyond basic combat tactics. Without that link, they're… well, they're stupid."
Another map came up, showing the most likely path that the enemy QRF would take. Directly from the east was the only likely place that they had a major installation. And getting there by foot would likely take them half an hour or so.
Not exactly a 'Quick' Reaction Force, but still. He had an idea.
"Pop quiz." Hsu said, bringing the operational map back to the foreground. "Battle of Austerlitz, Eighteen-Oh-Five. How did Bonaparte manage to bait the Coalition in?"
"He gave up the hill." IWS answered instantly. "The Russians pushed for the high ground, and tried to press his weak flank. Once the Austrian's center was weak, he counter-attacked."
"Exactly." He agreed, pulling out his tablet and bringing up the operational roster. He offered the device, linking it to the planning map. "Set up the echelons for a layered defense and pick a distraction team. Use the outpost and the craters. I'll verify your choices before we finalize anything."
The sniper took the tablet, nerves kicking up once again as she was given an actual responsibility. But something nagged at her, something that the man hadn't referenced.
"Commander… the French were only able to counter-attack once their reinforcements arrived." IWS reminded. "We don't have our own 'Davout', so to speak."
The Commander merely turned around, casting his voice to Kalina. The logistics officer jumped, having come closer once she'd heard the two begin to get into details. She'd figured that neither of them noticed, until now.
"Get Santiago and the Sub-Director on the horn." Hsu instructed, getting ready for yet another gamble.
(13:25)
"Filthy, filthy, filthy…" StG44 continued to mutter as she furiously scrubbed her coat. Dirt and grass stains had already smudged all over, ensuring that she was going to spend all of that night washing her clothes five times over. And it was still two days until G36 did the base's laundry! How was she going to survive that long without her combat uniform!?
Good thing she had ordered a cleaning kit online.
S.A.T.8 was sitting uncomfortably next to her, resting her back against the lip of the crater as she cradled her namesake. While her erstwhile companion had her fit, she wore a forced smile and tried to watch the clouds. Something to distract her from the German's neurosis or her own stress.
Clearing the outpost had been a piece of cake. Once the door came down, it was easy to overwhelm the active defenders. They hadn't seen them coming, and by the time the shooting started, Griffin was already coming inside.
Of course, being stuck next to the clean freak didn't help her mood.
"Maybe we can stop with the cleaning?" The shotgunner requested, trying to hold her usually polite demeanor. Though she wanted to do nothing more than take the brush and huck it across the entire sector.
"Nein, nein, nein…" Was StG's response. "Filth must be destroyed. I will not be a dirty little saumensch. Clean keeps the dirt out of my wires and gears. Clean means I function at peak efficiency."
The Italian grew more frustrated, now fantasizing about 'efficiently' shoving her weapon up her peer's arse. But she didn't indulge the desire, simply trying to block the sound out.
These new orders were troubling her. She wasn't sure why the plan had changed, nor did she enjoy the fact that they were told right before the initial assault. It all felt sloppy, unprepared and frankly unprofessional. And that made her very, very paranoid. If there was one thing she wasn't good at handling, it was 'improvising.'
Plans existed for a reason. What was it with humans and always trying to change the plan!?
Looking over her handiwork, StG44 nodded her head before donning the jacket once more. She then began to scrub the outside of her rifle, going at the weapon until it looked factory new from the outside. An action that made S.A.T.8's mask finally slip.
The Italian grabbed a fistfull of dirt, before pelting the other doll with it. The effect was instantaneous, with StG44 seizing up as she once again removed her jacket and began to desperately wipe away the smallest specs of earth.
"Will you please stop?!" S.A.T snapped. "I can't even think straight with your incessant cleaning!"
StG44 was taken aback, before jabbing a finger in accusation at her defiler. "I was almost done! Now I have to start all over again!"
S.A.T groaned, getting ready to step up and out of the foxhole, before she remembered that IWS had specifically told her to stay here. Her usual Captain had put every doll in a particular position, and made it clear that they needed to do as she said.
So, she slunk back and sunk into the dirt, her ears once again being grated by the sound of brush bristles renewed. But as much as StG cared for her hygiene, she was no dullard. She could tell that S.A.T wasn't acting like her usual, friendly self.
The German paused her cleaning, looking to see the stress and worry that etched itself into her foxhole companion's expression.
"How is my cleaning bothering you more than getting shot at?" She asked, not going for any form of subtly. S.A.T almost snapped once again, but saw that the woman had stopped her activity, obviously for her sake.
The shotgunner deflated, letting her weapon rest in her lap.
"...Why haven't we retreated?" She asked. "The plan was that we would pull out after we cleared the outposts. Why are we here?"
"The Commander said we had an opportunity to increase our impact. This is a raid, the purpose of a raid is to cause as much damage as possible." StG reminded.
"I know, I know." S.A.T assured in the least assuring way possible. StG sighed, pulling her jacket on again before sitting herself across from the worried woman.
"You're still not used to combat." The veteran observed, earning a slow nod from the mostly fresh recruit. "These things happen in war. You need to become flexible or you will suffer dearly."
S.A.T sighed, knowing that the other doll was right. "...I'm tired of change. Ever since I was shipped from the factory, all my life I've had to go from place to place. New job, new people, new lessons. Nothing ever stayed the same."
This tidbit drew StG's attention, making her lean forward a bit as she continued to speak. "Most dolls are made for a specific industry."
S.A.T chuckled, picking a few specks of dirt from her long lion's mane. "My company created my model to be a 'Universal Generalist'. Simply upload the training data to my neural cloud, and I can do… anything really. And I've done almost everything."
"Such as?"
"Nanny, concierge, chef, store clerk, animal breeder..." S.A.T listed, before smiling evilly. "Garbagewoman."
StG's skin tinted green, the German dry-heaving at the mention of such a disgusting occupation. S.A.T sunk into a fit of laughter, clutching her abdomen as she slid down against the crater's side. The elder soon realized that the final job had been a mean spirited joke, and hissed. But at least her reaction seemed to light up her junior's face, bringing her back to her usual joviality.
StG reset herself, once again taking on the role of the responsible senior. "Can I ask why you joined Griffin? Your life seemed eventful before signing on."
The shotgunner paused, growing meek at the question.
"...I wanted to know what my job would be." S.A.T informed. "It's nice to wake up and know what I'll do that day is similar to what I did the day before. Fighting Sangvis is quite fun! I never expected that my first assignment would be so action packed."
StG chuckled now, not disagreeing with the girl's assessment. This job was nothing if not consistent. Their job was to fight Sangvis. The means changed, but the mission stayed the same.
"What about you?" S.A.T asked. "You've said that you worked in a clothing factory?"
StG frowned, becoming dour at the question of her past. "My factory was in Berlin before the war. It wasn't there after the war. I needed work."
It was a quick and simple answer. One that said all that needed to be, without having to go over any gruesome details. S.A.T didn't pry, able to connect the dots.
Not that she had the time too. Thompson's voice soon roared over their communications.
(13:36)
"WE'RE COMIN' BACK, AND WE GOT COMPANY!"
The three SMG dolls beat feet as they sprinted across the damaged landscape, sprinting and jumping over the multitude of craters. Each of them was far faster than the mechanical monsters that followed, their humanoid bodies darting between and around the pocks with ease.
Being three of the faster dolls, they'd been picked by the suddenly apparent voice of IWS to go and bait the oncoming Sangvis into the killzone they'd formed. Thompson had to admit, it was a pretty good set up. Shotgunners in the forward craters, those with assault rifles sitting about twenty meters behind, and the sharpshooters hiding high on the outpost walls for their targets to come into view. Plus, a little surprise getting set up on the northern flank. Layers of fire, well entrenched, ready to sweep up the unknowing Sangvis mob.
Though perhaps she'd gotten a bit too into the whole 'distraction' bit.
When they'd finally found the oncoming horde, they'd been instructed to 'get their attention.' The Commander hadn't really specified how, so she'd had the girls dump their magazines into the front rank of prowlers rolling along the not yet bumpy road. Which did, in fact, get their attention.
It also meant a steel wave of angry robots was running behind them, and they wanted blood.
A squeak could be heard as PPSh-41 tripped ahead of her, the small Russian face-planting into the dirt. Thompson signaled for Type 100 to keep going, while she slid to a knee next to her fallen comrade.
"C'mon, short-stack! This ain't the place to catch some Zs!" Thompson ordered, taking the girl up by the shoulders. PPSh lazily looked up to her, dirt all over her face and quite cross-eyed.
"Miss Springfield…?" She asked, very much out of it. "Why yes, I would love a warm glass of choco-milk…"
Thompson balked, but knew they had no time for this. She threw the girl onto her back, wrapping her arms over her chest and carried her piggy-back style closer to their lines. Ahead of her, she saw Type 100 dive into the safety of her designated hidey-hole. She scanned the terrain for the closest occupied crater, then made a beeline for the first friendly marker on her HUD.
M1897 yelped as Thompson jumped in, the repatriated shotgunner having been put on the front line due to her stature and weapon. She shielded her weapon, while Casper bounced up and down indignantly as he was pelted by pebbles and dirt. But the older doll didn't seem to mind. In fact, she grinned at the two while setting the still dazed PPSh onto the ground.
"Hey, Ninety-Seven! Gonna need you to wake her up!" Thompson instructed, setting the downed Russian's submachine gun next to her as well. "And make it fast, bad guys're gonna be here in a minute!"
"B-b-but-!" M1897 sputtered, but to no avail. Just as soon as she entered, Thompson left from the other side and continued her dash.
A few moments later, she slid into a foxhole further back containing her fellow Captains. G36 was speaking over a handheld radio, while M4 was combing over a holographic map. Both looked up from their activities once their guest made their appearance.
"We've got, shit, at least twenty squads incoming." She relayed, taking the chance to finally swap out her depleted magazine. "Prowlers, Rippers and Vespids. Didn't see any Jaegers this time, though."
"At least this means we outrange them." G36 said, her finger still pressing down on her communication device's activation button. "You got that, Commander?"
"Heard you loud and clear." Hsu's voice echoed out from the speaker. "It'll be close, but we've got an entrenched position, elevation and explosives. Hold the line, don't die."
"Ja wohl, Kommandant. You'll hear from us after we defeat the enemy." G36 promised, before releasing the button. She adjusted the frequency, then spoke into it once again. "Springfield, do you see the approaching force?"
"Yes. And there's quite a few of them." The senior sniper said, the sound of mechanical feet slapping against the abused earth now becoming audible to all. "Eleven, prepare to detonate on my mark."
"I just want to say; this is the best job I've ever had. And I've only had it for a few months!" K11 gushed to all who could hear, giddy beyond all sense that she was being given carte blanche to blow everything to high hell.
"Wait for it…" Springfield ordered, voice steady as the stampede grew closer and closer. Too many footsteps to count, too many to make sense of. All blending together into an unholy drumbeat that almost seemed to shake the ground. G36 could feel her breath catch as she tried to ventilate herself, M4 crawled further up the lip of the crater as she prepared for the next stage.
"Now!" Springfield called, and a deafening boom followed.
A line of semtex detonated, having been buried and wired to K11's position. All the leftover plastic explosive had been set up so it would instantly dig an enormous trench. Dirt, grass, rocks and smoke flew everywhere. It enveloped the sky, creating a wave of shade that lasted but a brief second before dissipating. Sangvis androids, utterly unaware of what they had ran on top of, were thrown airborne. Limbs, torsos, whole bodies went into the sky, before being dragged down and slamming into the unforgiving landscape with a mechanical 'CRUNCH'.
One said body flopped over the leadership's position, with Thompson releasing an all too pleased hollar. "Woohoo! It's raining assholes!"
The Sangvis AI was stunned and dazed, many of them falling into the new trench and breaking themselves from either the fall or the weight of other dolls crushing them with their own weight. So much so that they soon filled it, and those that remained simply ran over the carcasses of their fallen to continue with the only directive they had; secure their outpost.
Which was when the Commander returned over the radio.
"All primary callsigns, cut them down!"
With that order given, each of the dolls lifted their heads and their rifles. In near perfect sync, the Griffin androids unleashed a wave of hot lead that punched against the wall of Sangvis and stopped them dead in their tracks. Rifle rounds, pistol rounds, shotgun shells, all being expended in a unified and terrifying wave of death and destruction.
The effect was instantaneous. Vespid and Rippers alike were torn to pieces, heads snapping back and holes appearing in their chests. Like dominoes, the Sangvis robots fell. Dozens upon dozens at a time, totally and completely stuck between the wall of death in front of them and the trench that had been dug behind them.
But they still advanced. Unfeeling, uncaring, focused on their directive to secure their outpost.
S.A.T.8 stood at the lisp, hiding behind her hip-shield as she desperately fed shells into her semi-automatic shotgun. StG44 fired off rifle-grenade after rifle-grenade, soon going completely empty and having to switch to regular rifle fire.
In the other foxhole, M1897 fired her weapon in a mad panic. She didn't aim, she didn't really even brace the thing. She merely slam-fired the almost two-hundred year old trench sweeper with reckless abandon into the mob before her. PPSh-41 did the same, firing wildly at the hip until her SMG inevitably jammed after the third magazine. Realizing she didn't have time, she slung the weapon and began throwing any and all fragmentation bombs she had forward.
And it still wasn't enough.
"First line dolls, fall back to the second line! Rifle team, cover their withdrawal!" Hsu ordered.
S.A.T.8 triggered her shield, a projection appearing over the four dolls in the front. StG44 stood up and took command, yelling at her juniors to 'pick up their arses and run for it'. All four blondes stood, emptying the last of their current magazine before breaking into a full sprint for the second line where the automatic rifles waited.
Grenades began to burst in the air, K11's manic laughter echoing as she began to pepper the sky with her special launcher. Fragments rained down like piercing hail, hitting both the enemies that advanced and her retreating colleagues.
"Ow, ow-. Watch it!" S.A.T.8 called over the radio, but the only response was a telltale 'THUMP-THUMP-THUMP' as the Korean had loaded a fresh magazine of explosives.
The four of them made their way back safely, going low to reload while the automatics and the sharpshooters continued to do their work. On the ramparts, PPK sat motionlessly as she drove all her energy into her radar. She'd designate Sangvis team leaders on Springfield, Garand and M14's HUDs with a highlight, wordlessly marking the mainframes before one of the marksmen took their heads off their shoulders.
Eventually, the gunfire stopped. In the distance, another group of hostiles were advancing. Unfazed by what had just befallen the first wave, souleslly following the directive.
Retake. Their. Outpost.
"Fuckin'-" BAR cursed, having thrown her machine gun to the ground. She'd fired the weapon so much that the barrel had burst close to the wooden handguard. "Someone toss me something! I'm naked over here!"
M4A1 stood up, running over to the gunner's brass-filled nest. She offered her personal sidearm; an M9A1 with a laser sight and suppressor. BAR took the weapon gladly, along with all of M4's magazines before the quiet girl made her way back over.
"Don't got much ammo left." Thompson reported, counting three drum magazines left. In another foxhole, PPSh finally unjammed her weapon, meanwhile a loud 'PING' could be heard as Garand finished a series of potshots.
"This would be a bad time to mention that I'm out of grenades." K11 informed over the radio.
"Of course she blew'er load early." Garand joked atop the outpost wall, earning a snicker from M14 and a mirth-filled smile from Springfield. PPK remained unresponsive, still focusing on her designated task.
"I'm out of munitions as well. So is Papasha." StG followed up on comms. "Perhaps we should all retreat to the outpost?"
"Negative. Hold positions." Was Hsu's response.
"They can't have much more. We must've killed two-hundred of the freaks." Thompson inferred.
"My tally is at least one-hundred and fifty-four Sangvis bodies." Type 100 confirmed, earning a huff from the American who miscounted. "They sent many, many dolls."
"Duh, Princess hacked the system and told them to send heavy reinforcements." BAR replied. "Must've thrown three outposts worth of cannon fodder at us."
"And here come the last of them." G36 observed, the final group of enemies now attempting to wrap around the northern side and avoid the killzone. The sharpshooter team shifted position, getting themselves ready to provide fire support. Meanwhile the dolls below stood up, beginning to jog up to face what was left.
"Echelon Four. The stage is yours while primary teams adjust." Hsu ordered as everyone readied themselves.
And then the explosive orchestra renewed.
(13:59)
This day had started as a scouting mission. The kind of jobs that NTW preferred, where she could observe the wildlife and take in nature. Lady Helian liked taking her team for these 'tabs', mapping out what information they could of Sangvis' movements. Bren liked them as well, it was her way of drilling her new echelon even if they didn't expect to see combat.
Now she lay on a small hill, firing down upon an unsuspecting group of Sangvis stragglers.
When the Commander told Helian of his plan, the Sub-Director seemed almost cross. The Scotswoman had gone on about how they needed to 'keep full tabs on the enemy presence' and 'create a basis to predict their next actions'. But he'd manage to convince her, somehow. And minutes later, Santiago had arrived with her Blackhawk and NTW's conversion kit sitting in a satchel. Along with ten magazines of explosive ammunition.
It was the biggest perk of this rifle, the ability to switch calibers in the field. From a large rifle-caliber round to a full-blown cannon shell. 20mm was usually reserved for autocannons fixed on APCs or old war anti-aircraft installations. Using it in a man-portable rifle seemed absurd to most.
And yet, her she was, doing just that.
Each shot she fired created a new crater or dug an old one deeper. The bewildered and surprised gaggle tried to find the source of the new fire, but each one that came close to figuring out their position was quickly dispatched by TAC-50. Both snipers did their work, with TAC's personal fairy giving her a closer view while SAR-21 assisted. Meanwhile, Bren spotted for the Afrikaaner.
Her arm moved with the fluidity and precision that only a machine could achieve. Racking the bolt as soon as a shot was made, resetting her scope and finding a new group to eliminate. The sound of her work emanating like it's own percussion section.
'BOOM'
'CHA-CHUNK.'
'BOOM'
'CHA-CHUNK.'
Once her magazine was empty, she reloaded. Bren stood, judging her accuracy.
"Your shots are landing half a meter to the left." The Captain chastised. "They told me you could aim, you puff pastry."
"I'm tryin' mah best, Capt'in. Didn't have time tah re-zero after swappin' the barrel." NTW responded, slotting the new magazine and racking the chamber.
"Can you please speak English?"
"...This is English, Capt'in." The South African answered, looking up from her position.
Bren groaned, pacing her way over to the other active shooter. "Out of all the damn dolls in Griffin, they send me a fucking Boer."
TAC-50 was reloading as well, humming happily as the red devil towered behind her and SAR-21.
"Report." The machine gunner demanded, making both the Canadian and the Singapore native jump. The duo shared a look, before TAC-50 moved to readjust her rifle.
"Um… fifteen shots, thirteen hits." SAR spoke. "Hitting a moving target at this range can be-"
"I don't need excuses, four eyes. No more missed shots or you both get latrine duty for the weekend." Bren countered, making SAR shudder in displeasure. TAC moved a hand to her right, clearly grabbing for something before SAR kneeled down and pushed it closer.
Until Bren came between them and snatched the object. A silver flask with a maple leaf engraved on it.
"Drinking. On an operation?" Bren began to yell, fury quickly coming to the fore TAC-50 snapped up from her post, shaking her head and hands.
"N-n-no! It's not what you think!" She promised, pointing at the beverage container. "It's not liquor, I swear!"
Bren frowned, clearly not believing her. She unscrewed the cap, giving the thing a sniff… before growing confused. She took another smell, catching a strange wiff from the thing before she poured a dab out onto her finger. What came out was thick, with a golden brown color.
She brought the finger to her mouth, tasting what was inside before staring at her second sniper.
"...This is maple syrup." Bren observed, dumbstruck by the oddity. "Why in the name of God and heaven are you drinking maple syrup?"
"Excuse you, that is grade A dark amber shipped in from the forests of Quebec!" TAC protested, her cheeks puffing out while SAR joined in their leader's disbelief. "It cost me six-hundred euros to have a crate of that shipped here!"
"You shipped a crate of this here!?" Bren yelled, the two getting into a heated argument.
Meanwhile, further back on the hill, L85A1 sat and watched with a bemused expression. Her old friend was certainly getting into the swing of leadership in her own special way. Nothing like how Welrod had been, far more… 'hands on' and 'intense.'
Helian was far less enthralled. She was judging each of the girls, standing in a Griffin camouflage combat uniform and vest. She'd switched the monocle out for a pair of ballistic glasses, a patrol cap resting on her silver-grey hair and a SIG MCX slung on her back.
"This is the most absurd thing I've heard all month." The only human present declared.
"I find it charming. Friendship is built on learning about one another's interests!" L85A1 responded, clapping her gloved hands together. "Perhaps I can invite them to tea once we return. One can use syrup instead of sugar, right?"
Helian released an exasperated sigh, not sure what she expected from L85. Edurite as she was, there were times when the old doll could seem dreadfully dim.
"We're in a firefight. They need to snap out of it." Helian commented as Bren's volume only increased, attempting to put both of the dolls in their place. NTW continued firing her shots, oblivious to the spar next to her. She'd likely turned off her audio receptors, and Helian couldn't blame her.
"Speaking of, do you feel comfortable Milady?" L85 asked. "It's been a long time since you've been near active battle."
"I'm fine, Eighty-Five. Perfectly fine." Helian assured. It was the truth, she felt strangely at ease. The sound of gunfire and the smell of smoke was almost nostalgic, bringing her back to what her life had been like six years prior. Tragic as it was, this felt… familiar. And strangely safe, despite being the furthest thing from.
Eventually, the bickering ceased. Bren forced TAC-50 back onto her gun, threatening to destroy her entire stash of syrup if she didn't land a killshot with every squeeze of the trigger.
Motivation through either fear or respect. Helian wasn't sure which.
(14:14)
Hsu looked over the screens, hands held behind his back as the dolls observed what had been left.
The last of the Sangvis reactive force had been destroyed, turned into nothing but scrap and corpses across the Ukrainian field. They were images eerily similar to what he had seen during the War. Back then, he'd seen plenty of destroyed Sangivs. Though they wore the colors of the Canadian Forces, or those of the Soviets. Now all they were covered in was black and purple, within and without.
Kalina was already celebrating, talking about plans for a celebratory party upon everyone's return. The helicopters had already been dispatched, with Santiago being assured that no one would be shooting at her or any of her pilots today. Comm channels were full of girls chatting among one another, comparing performances and checking up on each others' status. They had been almost completely stripped of ammunition, brass casings and deformed magazines being left behind as they pulled back to the landing zone.
IWS stood alone, staring at the screens with a sense of pride and accomplishment. The Austrian was happy, truly happy with what she had done.
Hsu came over to the girl, giving her a singular nod of approval.
"You did well. Better than I expected, but still a lot of room to improve." He informed.
IWS2000 rapidly bobbed her head up and down, holding the command tablet close to her chest. "I'll improve, Kommandant! It was an honor and a privilege to assist you today! I-"
"Stop." Hsu said, to which IWS immediately complied. "You'll be reassigned to your echelon and normal duties by tomorrow. But, I want you to report to the cafe at three on sunday."
Relief came over the sniper, but then curiosity. "May I ask why, Sir?"
"Class." The man revealed. "For the past few weeks I've been running lectures for Thirty-Six. This week, I want you and M-Four to join her. It's a crash-course in combat leadership, and I think it'll do all of you some good."
IWS nodded yet again, lifting her hand to give her Commander a salute. "I'll learn whatever you have to teach me. I want to be a good Captain, like the others."
Hsu grunted, before dismissing her. The sniper picked up a headset, speaking to the other girls while the Commander slunk away to his own thoughts.
He thought over how IWS had acted during the mission. How she'd positioned the dolls rather well, better than she normally did while on the front line. How she relayed orders crisply, not with her usual hesitation. And the planning she'd done as well, coming up with contingencies and alternatives. It was all still unrefined, and needed work. But he could see the potential and the genuine intelligence behind it, even without formal training.
Then there was her literature and hobby. That box of toy soldiers still bugged his mind, along with the story about her old supervisor. This strange, old Austrian officer turned Professor. He seemed to have imparted his love of strategy and history to this white haired girl. Something she enjoyed earnestly, but it didn't compliment the skills of a Captain.
No… if anything, she was a Tactician. She just didn't know it yet.
Now he just had to show her how to be one.
A/N: One month and almost 10K words later, the update arrives. A good mix of combat, comedy and feels I hope. Enjoy, everyone.
We're going to be taking a short break from this story. I've been neglecting my other projects, and they deserve some love. But we'll come back to this soon, with a new story and one last chapter before the attack on the Sector Nine base.
o/
