(28/7/2056 | 03:21 | Field Doll Log)

M16A1 had suspected that she may run into some people on her trek.

For the past few days she'd begun doubling back towards the closest Griffin installation. After the team's separation, she'd made it to the rendezvous first. But as time passed, none of her sisters arrived. Things had been quiet, quieter than she would have preferred. Enough that the eldest AR team member had almost marched back into the badlands to hunt down her lost siblings.

Until she'd received a call from M4A1, saying that she was safe. Relaying her location, and requesting that everyone made their way to Sector 09.

Said Sector had been well off of the beaten path for her, a sign that Sangvis' pursuit had likely driven their young leader well off of her intended route. And knowing M4, she had also likely panicked, causing her to improvise instead of sticking to the plan. Which was sure to earn the ire and anger AR-15 once they all eventually coagulated once again.

But she could look forward to that later, right now she was still sitting on top of an extremely angry German.

Despite her years no longer being with Griffin or the military, it seemed as if HK416's arrogance had only grown. It was the only way to explain why she thought she could win a fight with her, even though she had never been able to since they had known one another. After a few choice words and more than a bit of snide bitterness, the rogue doll had tried to subdue her by force.

Needless to say, it didn't work. Which was why M16 was now parked on top of her back, rifle stock in the mud while her chair yelled and flailed.

"Get off! Get off of me at once, you worthless drunk bitch!" 416 raged, jabbing her elbow up into the American's legs to no effect.

"I wish I was drunk. Means I wouldn't hear you whining." M16 grumbled, scanning the horizon for… someone.

"Of course I'm whining, you're sitting on me!"

"And you shot at me. Now take your lumps before I disconnect one of your servos."

"You wouldn't dare." 416 hissed, only to be met by a glare from M16. One that finally, promptly, silenced the living couch. She stopped resisting, resting her chin on her hand and drumming the dirt with her fingers. To which M16 took as her cue to turn back to the landscape, breathing in deep.

"See? Show's over, Fourty-Five! Come on out!" M16 belted, something which only annoyed 416 all over again. Partially because that her 'superior' wasn't around to get her out of this mess. Though if she was, and choosing not to, that was a far bigger insult.

Unfortunately for 416, that turned out to be the case.

A light, devilish laugh bounced across the scene followed by the sound of footsteps. Soon enough, UMP45 revealed herself, her signature submachine gun in hand. The German wore her usual smug, bemused grin. As if she didn't have a care in the world, but was always ready to laugh at someone's misfortune. Likely because she herself had caused it.

Yet again, 416 fumed, but her warden took her rifle and tapped the buttstock against her prisoner's forehead. Two quick taps, clearly signaling that she wasn't going to put up with another tantrum.

"You here to finish me off?" M16 questioned. Even if her peon hadn't just attacked her, there was nothing but distrust between the two veterans. She'd learned that after dealing with this banshee time after time.

Whether or not the feeling was mutual, 45 didn't seem to show it. She merely gestured to the large black rectangle strapped to M16's back.

"I would not call it 'finishing', don't you have a big boy in that case?" She asked with an insulting level of innocence.

M16 looked over her shoulder at the carry-on, before shaking her head and gazing back at the mercenary leader. "I don't think it's meant for you. What do ya say?"

"Ditto~." 45 assured, lowering her weapon so the muzzle clearly pointed at the dirt. "I'm merely heading home after a job well done, picking up 416 while I'm at it."

"Fick dich." Was 416's embittered reply. M16 kept her emotions muted, looking over the demure doll.

"Aren't you gutsy, operating so spread out when your team isn't even that big." M16 intoned, to which UMP45 lightly shrugged.

"Nine is more than enough to handle a mission this trivial." 45 assured, even though her sibling was nowhere to be found. Likely babysitting the resident narcoleptic sniper. "416 did her job well, so I gave her a holiday."

"And her idea of a vacation was to break my legs…" M16 described with a sigh, adjusting herself to give the defeated kraut a new jolt of discomfort. Meanwhile, the Anti-Rain member laughed bitterly. "You are one of a kind, Fourty-Five. One of a kind…"

"She wasn't trying to kill you, she's merely upset."

"I know. That's why I'm sparing her."

"Yes. Which is why I'm sparing you."

M16 laughed yet again, though this time with some more life in it. "What a bargain. Deal."

UMP45 joined along, looking down at a now shame-riddled 416 and giving her a wink. A gesture that almost set the doll off again, if not for M16 bopping her on the forehead once more. Grateful for the action, 45 then pulled a drive from under her hoodie. She crouched down, holding it out for the eldest AR team member to take.

"It's raining on the plain." She said as M16 took the device in hand.

"Raining? Plain? The heck?" M16 asked.

"Captured communication logs from close quarters infiltration, between fifteen-hundred to seventeen-hundred hours." The intelligence doll informed, speaking what may as well be a foreign language to the riflewoman. "A total of fourty-one thousand, nine-hundred and sixty results yielded, including mentions of the fence that contradicts basic battle strategies-"

"Woah, woah. Don't just go into playback mode. Speak English."

"Your creator will be able to make more sense of it." 45 assured, taking amusement as M16 seemed to grow uncomfortable for the first time since they spoke. She then looked down at 416, cracking a sadist's smile.

"Make sure that Miss Sixteen makes close to friendly lines. You know how to contact us when you need retrieval." She commanded, 416 releasing a defeated groan before she let her head flop down into the dirt. Satisfied with the arrangement, UMP45 turned around and began to walk back the way she came. M16 stood to her feet, going over to where she'd left 416's rifle.

Picking up the weapon, she gave one last look at 45 as she disappeared into the darkness of the summer night.

"Scumbag…" She muttered.


(04:42 | Base Log)

Hsu was up earlier than he liked for the third day in a row, but murderous robots didn't give a damn about his beauty sleep.

The Commander yet again found himself in the Command room. Piles of papers, reconnaissance pictures and reports were slewn out across the table. Several mugs of emptied coffee lined the counter where most of the working computers rested. The large screen now played the footage from Springfield and Garand's AI cores, frozen on the profile of Intruder. A sleeping bag had been brought in by G36 the night before, when he'd refused to leave the room in case another alert came in from the night's watch.

He'd only slept for three hours, jolting awake each time one of the remaining doll teams hailed him over the radio.

After holding the last ring for several hours, whittling down the Sangvis assaulting force to what had to have been a fraction of what had come, he'd announced the retreat to the main base. The walls were now lined by volunteers from the human staff, each one using a weapon plucked from the armory. The dolls themselves were now on perimeter, patrolling in overlapping patterns. Ensuring that even if, somehow, Sangvis made it past the turrets, mines and sensors, they'd be spotted.

Zener had also, miraculously, come back online. The stream of data between the command center and the dolls had been reestablished as if nothing happened. Which only seemed to drive the Commander's paranoia up the wall, sensing something had happened. Somehow, Sangvis had jammed it. But he didn't know how, or why they had stopped all of a sudden. Nor did he expect them to not re-enable the jam. Beyond that, Sangvis' assault had completely halted. Their forces were still in the area, the pings from the sentry guns and reports of mines going off was proof of that. But they still refused to attack.

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

The old officer did his best to keep things together, but this whole event had been an experience he hadn't expected. In truth, he had deeply underestimated the abilities of his opponent. Their infiltration, their coordination, their electronic warfare capacity. All of it was far, far beyond what the Sangvis Ferri dolls he'd used in the War were capable of. But of course it was. The war had ended six years ago, and now Sangvis wasn't being controlled by people like him.

No, no. It wasn't being controlled by people at all. They'd become independent, almost like an artificial force of nature. A phrase so oxymoronic he couldn't believe it.

None of that mattered now, though. He had a job to do, and he wasn't interested in accruing even more casualties.

As he continued to pour over his intelligence, the door to the command center hissed open. Helian came inside, her face scrunching up as she saw the man wide awake. He'd sworn to Kalina that he'd let someone else handle Command for the morning, but that had apparently been empty words.

"I'm sure those photographs look exactly the same as they did six hours ago." Helian observed, removing her helmet and leaving it on the counter. The Sub-Director walked past the man, snatching the mug that was still half full and draining it before looking back at her subordinate.

"Matthew? Did Sopmod conk your head or something?" She asked after garnering no response.

The Commander shook his head, lifting his glasses up and rubbing his eyes. "I wish. Might help me sleep for more than thirty winks."

Helian huffed, looking at the state of the Command Center. He had at least tried to use the sleeping bag, that much was certain.

"Well, some good news might let you rest." She said, pulling his attention over to her. "A team I enlisted found M-Sixteen. They contacted me about half an hour ago. She's being escorted closer to our lines as we speak."

Hsu sighed in relief, one less objective weighing heavy on his mind. "I'm going to guess I shouldn't ask questions?"

"That would be wise." The board member confirmed.

"Done." Hsu said, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was never good form to complain about someone else doing a hard task for you, anyway. "Pick up location?"

"Not transmitted yet. They're trying to close the gap to lessen the risk of anti-air incidents." Helian told him, before snapping her fingers as his focus began to shift back to the maps.

"Go rest. It's my shift." She ordered.

"I can't sleep." He insisted.

"Because you're trying to sleep in a room filled with comms equipment and alarms." Helian pointed out, stating the obvious as she rested her hand over one of the reconnaissance images that had been pulled from Springfield's core.

Getting the message, and too tired to even try to put up a fight, the Commander nodded his head. He activated Zener, sending out a message that Helian would be taking over for the morning watch, before shuffling out like a zombie.

Meanwhile, the senior officer sat herself down. She pulled up Bren's link, activating a direct hail to the doll's neural cloud.

"This is Imperator. Send traffic." Bren's voice hummed. Hearing sounds over the Zener system was always off, as if whomever was speaking was submerged underwater. Some distortion, a bit of an echo, yet the communication was somehow intelligible.

"Drop the telephony, Bren. No one else hears us." Helian said, relaxing in her seat.

"You of all people should know I default to military standards." Bren reminds. "But I'm going to guess you need something done?"

Helian smirked, ever grateful that the doll always got to brass tacks.

"How are you handling command? I don't need to tell you what this feels like."

"Diet Leipzig. Except with significantly less tanks." Bren recalled. "Then again, we had artillery there. And attack helicopters."

"How many times did you get scrapped during that battle?" Helian asked playfully

"Ten. Thanks for reminding me." The former scout said, chafing. "These girls are sloppy. None of them are soldiers, they're barely even tactical dolls."

"They're all experienced Griffin employees."

"I've got a former lumberjack, a personal assistant, a game warden and telecom operator." Bren insisted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you put me in charge of this lot as a joke."

"Or maybe to help you broaden your horizons."

"Bit of a strange time to do that, innit?"

"Play to your strengths." Helian assured. She'd crafted the team to be ideal for special duties, handling tasks the usual rifle-toting teams couldn't handle. Two weapons to deal with armored targets, a spotter for each, and a support weapon that helped to act as a backbone. It was unlike the usual formation, but she had figured that this was going to be a battle unlike usual Sangvis engagements.

There was some silence on Bren's end, which Helian initially took as the team leader accepting her terms. Until the next words came.

"You hired Four-oh-Four, didn't you?"

Helian felt air catch in her throat, not expecting Bren to ask such a question. Being her assistant, Bren was one of the few dolls who knew that Task Force 404 was active. Most had their memory logs wiped, keeping knowledge of the group a company secret. It was the best way to keep Griffin's dirty laundry from becoming a media catastrophe.

"Eighty-Five mentioned you asking for strange preparations last week." Bren explained, having figured out something was amiss. "I was hoping you hadn't gotten that desperate."

"They're good at their job." Helian said, defending her choice.

"They're murderers, thugs and terrorists." Bren countered, righteous indignation seeping from her voice. "Led by a sociopath we know has her own agenda. Do I need to remind you about the mess they caused in Vladivostok?"

Helian winced, having had this back and forth several times before. Bren always despised cloak and dagger antics, and even less so when done by an outside entity. "They're the best black operation team available. As far as we can tell, their leader's goals don't conflict with ours."

"And when they do? What's the plan then?"

"The Director says they're not a threat. I trust Kryuger's judgment." Helian deflected, but such a response only seemed to incense her old friend.

"I'm not here for him, Helian." Bren echoed. "Eighty-Five and I followed you from home to come here, not to serve some Russian shitehawk who spent the better part of a decade trying to get us pasted!"

This discussion would go nowhere. Bren was never going to accept the realities of working for a business this large, nor the politics that came with it. She didn't have to, all she had to do was follow her lead.

"Then trust me. I've never steered you wrong before." Helian said, not having the patience to have a debate like this given the circumstances.

Thankfully, Bren seemed to be of a similar mindset. "No. No, you haven't."

Helian exhaled, glad that the topic had been dropped for now. Though she was sure it would come up yet again, inevitably. As things often did whenever 404 was involved.

"Your cycle's done, by the way. Come back and get recharged." Helian ordered, earning an affirmative response from her team leader. The connection was cut soon after, leaving Helian to stew with her own choices.

M16 had better come back without a scratch on her head.


(28/7/2056 | 08:21 | Field Doll Log)

The two of them had been trudging along for hours now, with M16A1 taking the lead. Sea wind whipped, the salty air only helping irritate the already irate 416.

She was surprised that the doll had been so willing to show her back to her. Once they'd begun their march, it had been quiet. Not a single mention of their skirmish. But it was more likely a sign that M16 didn't see her as any kind of threat than a signal of trust.

It was genuinely infuriating how mellow this woman could be despite any circumstances. It wasn't a new character trait, she'd been exactly like this before when they had been teammates. Calm, casual, friendly, and ready to fight at the drop of a hat. But that was the biggest sticking point. Despite everything, everything that had happened to them since Butterfly, M16 had remained the same, while 416 had been forced to change.

Even though she'd done nothing wrong, and had borne the brunt of the consequences.

Still, despite the internal urge to fire some rounds into her former partner's battery pack, she relented. They had a job to do, and she had already made a fool of herself once this operation.

"Gonna glare a hole in my back." M16 called out, hopping over an overturned tree trunk. "Go ahead and talk, we've got a while before we're close to this sector's outpost."

"Undo noise draws undo attention." 416 chimed.

"And I'll kick their tin cans back over the hills if they come." The eldest AR team member declared, bravado backed by an irritatingly strong sense of self-confidence. But it was a moot point, regardless. Neither doll could sense any oncoming danger, either via their sensors or their eyes.

"You haven't changed at all." The rogue doll observed, voicing her thoughts. It was an observation that drew M16's attention for a second, while they kept trudging along.

She may as well talk. Otherwise she'd go stir crazy with bad ideas.

"Tell me, how is life being part of Griffin's golden goose squad?" 416 inquired, making no effort to hide her spite.

"Lot of walking. Lots of searching. Not enough whisky." M16 described, hopping over an overgrown log. "How's life bombing warehouses for the highest bidder?"

416 huffed, looking away from the other elite doll. "As if I have a choice. I was ejected from Griffin, remember?"

"Couldn't imagine why..." M16 said, already growing tired as the conversation came back to this topic. It had been the final thing they argued about before 416 had been de-cored and fired from the company. It hadn't been settled then, and it certainly wouldn't be settled now.

"And she dodges the topic, as always." 416 observed, hopping over the overturned trunk and moving to keep pace with her escortee. "How in the world did you even manage to beat me? My specs outclass yours entirely. Even my rifle surpasses your relic."

"No one's got any appreciation for the classics…" M16 lamented, giving her weapon a comforting pat to shield it from the assault it was receiving from the angered German. "Experience and training matter more than a high-class rifle and a light frame."

"Feh. Excuses. Always excuses with you!" 416 protested, stopping her advance and digging her heels in the dirt. Yet again she was filled with oh so righteous indignation, unable to accept such a slight against her abilities by a doll of lesser quality. "What even am I to you?!"

M16 kept going for a few more steps, until she took note that her baggage had decided to slow them down. She looked behind to see 416's face yet again contorted in anger, scorned evermore for having been abandoned by someone she once cared for.

"You really want to know, 416?" She asked, turning around and trudging back towards her 'companion.' Standing half a head taller than her ex, looking down upon the 404 member as if she was barely anything more than a fly buzzing past.

"You mean nothing to me." M16 declared. "You're worthless. You're boring. You mean nothing, got it?"

416 grit her teeth, grip tightening. She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream. And yet that look that M16 handed down to her. That dismissive gaze that looked exactly the same as the one she'd had when she'd refused to allow 416 to come on the Butterfly excursion.

It was a look that was hiding something, but she still couldn't figure out what.

"This is what I hate about you. No matter the situation, you look so self-assured." 416 spat, unable to keep her emotions back yet again. "Do you ever have a weak moment, you bitch?!"

M16 sighed, rubbing her forehead as she yet again brought the wrath of this prima donna back down upon her. She was already beyond done with this conversation, and had already begun to walk off.

"So you're going to ignore it, then? Just like last time?" 416 interrogated.

"You can try and stop me. But we both know you pull your punches." M16 said. "Besides, I'm in a rush. Got people who're waiting on me."

416 scoffed, before those last words fully processed in her neural cloud. Why she had been so cold and curt this whole time, even more than usual.

"So that's your weakness, then?" She called, yet again getting M16 to pause. Though this time was… different. The AR doll went stiff and stark, an air of malevolence quickly leaking out. 416 brought her weapon to a low ready, easily sensing hostile intent.

"Learn to watch your mouth." M16 hissed, cold fury icing her words. "Remember what happened. Or else you'll wish I finished you off."

416 stood silent, having no more words. Unlike their shootout, she now felt genuinely in danger. As if the woman in front of her was ready to finally make sure they'd never have another engagement.

Nothing else was said after they continued marching. They simply continued on, the coast to their left and the sun to their back.


(09:45 | Base Log)

"The good news is that the enemy force seems to have pulled out." Hsu said, sitting at the cafe's counter. "Patrols and aircraft are confirming it now."

The Commander was joined by M4A1 and G36. The former sat next to him, nursing a steaming mug of hot cocoa. The latter was preparing breakfast for the both of them, the rest of the dolls having already been fed and dispatched for the morning. SOPMOD had ran off with Echelon Two, talking about 'getting supplies for a new sculpture.' An image that conjured only dread in both the Commander and her sister's mind.

It felt strange, sitting on this stool, knowing that Springfield wouldn't be arriving for her shift today. Nor would she be for a while, given their lack of replacement chassis. Even though Thompson had managed to recover her and Garand's core, there was nowhere to put it. So the two AI sat in their most diminutive forms, on a charging rack in the engineering bay.

But at least they survived. The same couldn't be said for PPK. From what Khan had discerned via Garand's footage, the handgunner's core had been well and truly shattered. Her chassis was damaged well beyond repair. Leaving her behind had been the only option, but it meant that her resurrection would be even more difficult. Even more costly.

And though Hsu didn't want to say it aloud, it was not worth the resources. It would be easier to have her memories sent back to Griffin HQ and have her replaced.

He hadn't decided yet, though. For now, the sector as a whole had survived. Which meant now all he needed to do was hunker down and wait for the reinforcements he requested before attempting to retake lost land.

M4 looked tired, having spent the better part of the dawn dispatching Sangvis teams with her sibling. Dodging back and forth from the outpost, wiping out targets of opportunity and baiting them into the killzone of turrets or the fields of mines. They had both been extremely effective, despite being two dolls down. The Anti-Rain team was still an elite squad, and their results showed. If anything, the sisters were putting the other teams to shame.

Hsu looked to his right, seeing the girl's rut.

"We'll find the rest of your team. After I take care of my base." He said, knowing that it wasn't what she wanted to hear. They were running out of time, it wasn't possible for any tactical doll to be operating without support for much longer. Even if they were dolls built to last on their own.

M4 signed, nodding her head as a brown-milk mustache rested on her lip. Hsu chuckled at the expression, making M4 blush and snatch a napkin to clean herself up.

"No teasing, or I 'accidentally' burn your eggs." G36 politely reminded, waving the oil covered spatula at the Commander in a vaguely threatening motion. Hsu did as he was told, not willing to risk collateral damage to his breakfast.

As M4's embarrassment faded, she returned to the Commander's last point. "How long will it take for us to restart the search?"

"Five days, when the team I requested shows up." Hsu informed. "Maybe sooner, if we see an opportunity. But we'd need a pretty good lead."

M4 nodded, though her dejection was apparent. But it was to be expected, especially considering how the past day's combat had gone. It was clear to her that most of the echelons at this outpost didn't have extensive combat experience. Still, they'd fought tooth and nail. Several of them had fallen for it.

A large part of her felt guilty. If her team hadn't been dispersed, none of this would have happened. But another part of her was glad, because it meant she got to come here. Meet new people, make… friends. Be a regular T-Doll for a short period of time.

"Commander, once we find Star and M-Sixteen…" M4A1 asked, unsure of how the man would react. "...Is there a chance we'll get to stay here a while longer?"

Hsu thought about the question, taking a fresh cup of coffee that was passed on from G36. "It isn't up to me. If Sixteen-Lab or Griffin decides to reassign you, then you're being reassigned."

"But if they don't, would you dislike it if we stayed?" She asked, not sure of what the man seemed to think of her and her sisters. Whether he valued their presence, or saw them as nothing but trouble.

Hsu weighed the question in his mind, acknowledging a simple fact; he rarely interacted with M4. She'd been here for a good while, now. She'd followed his orders, and even lead teams for his operations. But he'd yet to have an honest one-on-one with the special operations doll. Mentally he'd basically relegated her to a job item. 'Secure, Contain, Protect.'

"Well, Sopmod's insane." Hsu said, nursing the mug as M4 shot up with embarrassment over her sibling's extremely poor first impression. "But I won't chase you off, if that's what you're asking."

"That means he doesn't dislike you, in case you don't speak 'grumpy old man'." G36 assured, placing two French omelettes before her patrons. Tomato chunks filled the yolk, along with an herb garnish. "Personally, I wouldn't mind her staying, Kommandant."

"So you took my advice and made some friends." Hsu observed, going at his dish with a fork and knife.

The maid rolled her eyes. "Who are you, my father?"

"Oh come on, I'm not even out of my thirties yet." He deflected, before spearing a piece with his fork. He then wagged it at the doll as he spoke. "But if you want me to be your Dad, we can talk about what a little birdie told me about you and Sturmgewher."

G36 began to sputter, Hsu putting on a cheshire grin as he began to eat his fresh meal. M4A1 sat on the sidelines, confused as to what the older man was referring to as well as the maid's extreme reaction. She merely continued to drink her cocoa, watching innocently as the conversation devolved.

"Wh-who told you about zhat?!" G36 demanded! "I mean-, who told you such lies and slander?!"

"Can't disclose my sources." Hsu said, eating some of his food. "Just make sure you wear a rubber and pick a safe word."

Those directives only served to incense his adjutant even further, the blushing doll seemingly beginning to overheat. "How dare you assume we would partake in such hedonism and debauchery! We merely were… caught in the heat of the moment!"

"Oh, so you made it to second base." Hsu deducted dryly, before lifting his hand up from the counter. "High five."

G36 threw her hands up in frustration, beginning to verbally tear into the Commander as he remained as stone faced as ever. M4 continued to observe, absolutely lost to what they were speaking about or what 'second base' meant. Nor why their cook was so furious over the questions… maybe it was something that M16 could tell her about once they found her.

As if right on cue, one of her pockets began to ring.

The two continued their spat until she pulled the communicator out. Hsu caught the device from the corner of his eye, recognizing it as the commlink that M4 used to converse with AR-15 and SOPMOD prior. He snapped his fingers, silencing the irate maid before motioning for M4A1 to answer the call. Which she did, digital static sharply coming through before a voice began to speak.

"Hello, hello. M-Four? This thing working?" A woman said, her pitch lower than most of the other dolls. In fact, it was closer to Thompson's than anyone else on base.

"M-Sixteen?!" M4 said, jumping to her feet. "Is that you?! Is everything alright!?"

"Calm down, sis. I'm fine." The elder sibling assured. "Just glad I'm finally in range. You alright?"

M4 nodded her head, despite the fact that the caller couldn't see her motions. "Y-yes! I made it to the local Griffin outpost! Sopmod is here too!"

"That's a relief-" M16 said, before catching herself. "-Wait, wasn't she supposed to be with Star?"

"She… she said that Star had to distract a tail." M4 reported sadly. "We've been under attack for the past twenty-four hours. It wasn't until this morning that we finally repulsed Sangvis Ferri."

"That girl's such a martyr, I swear…" M16 joked, meanwhile M4 looked up at the other two listening in. Hsu said nothing, making no effort to interject. G36 did the same, though she had begun wiping down the countertop.

"Well, don't worry about me. I found a depot, so I've got ammo and power to spare." The veteran assured. "But if she's not with you, then I've got some business to attend to."

"Wh-. What business?!" M4 asked, exasperated.

"Don't worry about it. Just remember what I taught you all about evasion and elimination." M16 reminded. "Anyway, gotta go!"

"Huh, but-" M4A1 stammered, the call dying before she could get her point across. "Sixteen! Come in!"

G36 frowned at the sudden disconnection, disliking how blaze M16 had acted. She'd never be so vague and jarring with her own siblings, even the more pestering ones like XM8.

The Commander, however, rose as well, gears turning in his mind.

"...Thirty-Six, get your team to the armory." Hsu ordered.

"Er, Kommandant?" The adjutant asked, not following.

"I'll fill you in once I've got everything in order." He assured, still piecing together the cryptic message left by the caller. G36 was still lost, but offered no further questions before moving to do as the man said. Meanwhile, the Commander stepped off and waved for M4 to come along.

"I-is something wrong?" M4 asked, just as lost as the other doll.

"Having you 'remember evasion and elimination' makes no sense when you're behind friendly lines." Hsu clarified, pulling his radio off of his hip as he adjusted the frequency. "She wasn't talking about you."

"But who would she be-" M4 asked, before realizing what the Commander was getting at.

"What's your team's specialty?" Hsu asked.

"Data retrieval and close-quarters battle."

"And the range on that commo-link?"

"One-hundred kilometers."

He nodded, before activating his radio and speaking into it. "Command and Control, sound off."

"Reading, Commander!" Kalina's voice rang out. "Helian retired to her quarters, I'm on radio duty!"

"What's the closest urban center, one-hundred klicks eastbound from our position?"

"Populated or abandoned?"

"Abandoned. Probably coastal." Hsu reasoned, the water being the easiest way to land-navigate without knowing the area.

"Let's see…" The logistics officer said, keyboard clacking. "Berdyansk. It was a port-city. Turkish Army used it as a beachhead during the Black Sea invasion. The city's slated for re-activation, but this Sangvis mess delayed things."

"Good. Tell Bren to cut her patrol short. Try and get me a map of the area, I'm going to be with you in ten. Out."

"Yessir!" Kalina confirmed, right before Hsu changed to the aviation frequency. The Commander then began to order that two Blackhawks be prepared for sortie. The Chief Aviator read loud and clear, before telling him they would be ready in less than forty minutes.

It was time to wrap this show up.


A/N: Well I got this out faster than I thought. But that's mostly because this chapter was split in half. Or, well, this is probably the first third.

But next time we're going to truly, finally, FANTASTICALLY, reach the end of the AR retrieval arc. Which means that this fic will have hopefully surpassed the hump where most GFL longfics die. Where's that Goddamn confetti...

Anyways, yes. Next chapter will be another combat chapter. I appreciate the rapid, extreme influx of reviews from the newest reader. Seeing his reactions live was great.

Until next time.

o/