Welcome to Chapter Sixteen! This time, Ian can't sleep and Skorpion and PPSh-41 are sent to the base after questioning.
Concerning that list I mentioned, I might not be able to do it here due to the site's rules, and because r/rwby is notoriously toxic, I wouldn't be able to do it on Reddit, although I could use Be a Hopeless Romantic on FFN to do it as nothing's posted on it yet.
After reading Toy Soldiers again, I'm now very jealous of ClearlyInvisible's worldbuilding skills, and as such, I realized that I need to step up my game. To this end, I may even go back to older GFLR chapters and improve on them. Also, in general, I'll fix any inconsistencies I find, but if I miss any, please tell me so I can fix them.
Okay, a friend just told me that having the characters suffer from PTSD was stereotypical. That's not a stereotype, that's truth, because you can't go through a war without being haunted at some level!
Alright, it's time to administer repairs, run non-stop Logistics, and farm 0-2 straight into this.
Station 794, Sector 09
Ukraine, Neo-Soviet Union
June 06, 2062
Commander Ian Becker
This wasn't what was supposed to happen.
The US was supposed to be prepared for Russia's new toys this time.
It was supposed to be an easier win.
So why the hell were they still getting hammered like last time?
"Get down!"
Clutching his rifle in a death grip, Private Ian Becker never dared to leave his cover, bullets and plasma bolts flying past the stone wall he found solace in as he was fired on. However, a frag grenade landing at his feet caused him to bolt nigh-instantly from the wall, passing by another building before his foot caught the body of a dead American, and he fell to the ground with a yell. Thankfully the grenade exploded harmlessly behind him.
"Shit!" he yelled panickedly either way, trying to get back up- only to get kicked by what felt like a slab of steel, his vest only doing so much to distribute the force as he ended up on his back.
Looking up to his left from his new place on the bloodsoaked street, his blood chilled when he saw his attacker.
Short hair. A womanly body that did not belong on a military android. Powerful machine-like arms and legs. Twin SMGs.
But what scared him most was the emotionless red eyes behind her visor. Unlike a human Russian soldier, whose eyes reflected their anger at the West or their determination to protect their people and home, this... thing, for lack of a better term, felt nothing.
He was about to die to an emotionless machine.
Attempting to scurry away, he was stopped by a metallic foot landing on his chest and keeping him pinned to the street, causing him to try and pry its leg off of his chest, to no effect, and when he tried to draw his pistol, a plasma bolt tore through his hand, the excruciating pain unlike anything he'd ever felt to that point.
And as it raised its weapons to his head, he only had one thought on his mind.
'I'm sorry...'
The android fired a full burst from both guns directly into his face and ended him instantly.
"Gah!"
Shooting up from his bed with a start, Ian frantically turned his head left and right, checking that he was still in his bedroom, and sighed a relief when he remembered that he hadn't been killed by a Sangvis.
"It's just a nightmare, Becker, get a damn grip!" he ordered himself sharply, his hand clenching into a fist. "You did not die in Germany!"
Although you should have... a voice in his head told him sourly, in which he mentally flipped it off and lied down once once more, pulling the covers over his head.
After trying and failing to go back to sleep for an entire hour, he cursed sharply and got out of his bed, intent on adding another entry to his journal when he saw his alarm clock.
4:00 A.M.? Damn it.
Sitting in his seat at his desk, he turned his lamp on and retrieved a pencil and his journal, and after a moment, he began to write.
July 06, 2062
The evening operation was a resounding success. Not only did the Dummies HQ gave us not need to be used, but the Dolls also killed multiple armored units and suffered no serious casualties.
Anyways, Echelon One actually stayed to watch the rescue op, and M1911 was quite excited to report that Grizzly, the Doll whose driving was only suitable for a warzone, was part of the team sent to rescue Skorpion.
On a more serious note, I had another damned nightmare. And the worst part is, it was about my absolutely appalling first encounter with Sangvis Dolls, or an alternate version of it, as in the "dreams," I always die in some horrific way, or my teammates die before I do. At least this one was on the tamer end.
Anyways, it doesn't look like I'll be getting any more sleep, so I ought to check on the base and see just what we need to do, because last I checked, the supplies come in on the seventh and doing that's much more productive than trying to sleep. Then again, I'm used to it.
Putting away his journal, Ian sighed and grabbed a set of work clothes, putting his old set into a basket for G36 to pick up before he entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, taking a quick shower before he got dressed once more and fetched a flashlight, leaving his bedroom for the time being.
It was still dark outside, and the base's lights were off as well, casting the interior in a dark, cool blue tone. It was serene, to say the least, but he had no way of doing what he intended with how dim it was.
The flashlight in his hand came to life, casting a bright light in front of him and allowing him to see properly once more. Satisfied, he walked out into the lobby with his flashlight in hand, intending to head to the Café first, and briskly crossed the expansive room, his footsteps echoing throughout it as he entered the long hallway the Café was hooked up to.
Remembering the path he took when G36 gave him a tour, he quickly found the room and pulled the door open, stepping inside the dark room and flipping the lights on.
His subordinates had tried their hardest to clean the room, but with the damages suffered in the attack, it still looked terrible, with its caved-in bar, the large hole in the ceiling, and the smaller, but no less nasty holes in the linoleum floor.
Walking into the room, the Commander ran a gloved hand along a glass table, seeing his reflection in the surface.
Despite the somewhat fatigued look in his eyes, he'd personally never looked better, at least when he didn't think to when he was a kid, and when he didn't have to worry about the horrors of the world or a potential attack on the States.
Too bad the Soviets had to do what they did and take his family away-
No, they never confirmed that Nikki was dead. She might still be alive... he told himself. He knew for a fact his parents had died, but as Nikki wasn't in the Becker residence when the bombings happened, he held fast onto the hope that back in the US, his sister was alive and well. The Becker twins had always been resilient, after all.
Finally looking up from the somehow-intact table, he cast the room one last glance before he turned the lights off and left, closing the door behind him.
Senior Officer Helianthus
"Alright, bring her in."
Helian watched as the Grizzly Doll left the blue-toned control center, bringing the Skorpion Doll with her a few moments later.
The repairmen had truly done a fantastic job at repairing her, and now, at first glance, you could never tell that she had been brutally tortured by the enemy, and when Grizzly let her go, she promptly approached Helian and sat down in the chair provided.
"Grizzly, you are dismissed." the officer told the brunette HG, who made a nod of acknowledgement before whistling a tune and leaving the room.
"Alright, Skorpion," she started once she was sure Grizzly was gone, sitting down in front of the Doll. "I have a few things I need confirmation on, and I believe you have the answers to them."
"Yeah?"
"First of all, did you make contact with a Tactical Doll named M4A1?"
She already knew the answer thanks to the video Station 794 showed her, but she wanted to hear it from Skorpion herself. The Doll in question waited a moment before speaking.
"Yes, I did." she finally said, words spoken slowly as if she wanted to be absolutely sure she was heard.
"When did you make contact with her?" Helian asked.
"About a day after our outpost was destroyed. At the time, M4 and her team were on some sort of operation, but they got compromised, so she contacted us and had us keep Sangvis off of their backs. We did it alright... until that Ringleader showed up."
"What Ringleader?"
"Some bitch named Agent." Skorpion answered through clenched teeth. "She tore through all of us like it was nothing, and when it was all over, she tossed me to Scarecrow so she could try and get the AR Team's position from me."
"And did you reveal any information to her?" the officer pressed, leaning forward in her seat.
The SMG Doll laughed mirthlessly in response.
"Nope, I lied through my teeth to keep them safe. The most information Scarecrow got was false coordinates."
"And you're absolutely sure of this?"
"Yup."
"I believe you, vz.61. As for Scarecrow, we need to figure out exactly what her objective is, and to do that, we'll have to capture her and remove her memory unit."
Skorpion shot up from her seat and stared her down.
"Miss Helian, please count me and Papasha in the capture mission!" she requested, the fires of vengeance burning in her eyes.
After looking around the center, she soon gave her answer.
"We don't have any vacancies here. If you truly want revenge, then I can assign you to a new Commander. He's new, but he contributed greatly to your rescue, so do not disappoint him."
"Okay! No matter where I go, I'll do my best as long at it's for Griffin!"
Commander Ian Becker
So that's all of it.
Ian carefully wrote down everything that was in disrepair on a piece of paper to give to Kalina, then sat down in his office chair. By now the sun had just started to come up, and the natural lighting outside seeped into his office from a window, reducing the need for his lamp.
The window in question was made of highly bullet-resistant glass, which was even capable of resisting Sangvis' plasma bolts somehow, and was put in at Commander Prokhorov's request, as he liked the view it provided.
Given how new he was, he was unfamiliar with his subordinates' schedules, and as such he was naturally surprised when the door opened and Kalina entered. Unlike usual, she had donned a white button-up shirt with a red tie around her neck, a black skirt, and dark brown boots.
"Didn't expect to see you up so early." he commented when she shut the door.
"Couldn't sleep." the ginger replied curtly, starting the coffee machine up. "Same for you?"
"Yeah. Oh, I compiled a list of things to repair when those supplies get here."
"You know that's part of my job, right?" she asked him flatly.
"Yeah, but it was better than wasting my time trying to get sleep I'm not gonna get." Ian countered, holding his list out to her, which she carefully took.
"So, in that case, what're we gonna do today?"
"Our construction materials will be getting here tomorrow, so I plan to start base repairs when they get here."
And that was when a message pinged on the projector.
Turning it on and flipping it to the messaging function, he saw a single message from HQ.
Wonder what they want. he thought as he checked the message out.
Dear Commander, I apologize for interrupting your sleep, but two new Dolls will be joining your roster soon: the vz.61 Skorpion you helped rescue last night, and PPSh-41, a former construction Doll. They will arrive in approximately five hours, as I have also sent you PPSh-41's construction mech to help aid repairs and a new mainframe for your M1895.
I once again apologize for the inconvenience, and I hope you enjoy these Dolls' presence in your base. - Senior Officer Helianthus.
P.S. I do hope you're ready for another operation, because Skorpion's intel gave us a very high-value target that just happens to be roaming in your sector.
"Fuck me." he cursed.
"Sorry, sir, don't know you well enough." Kalina commented cheekily, as if he directed it at her.
Yeah, I definitely committed war crimes in the war. Or I was horrifically cruel to puppies and kittens.
"Get the PA ready in a couple of hours. I'll get everyone gathered." he sighed after a moment of silence, in which he was cursing his luck.
"Yes, sir."
Tactical Doll M1911, Two Hours Later
Back in their dorms, M1911 was sat down on one of their ammo boxes with her phone in hand, texting to Grizzly. While the older blonde was a member of Station 794's staff, Grizzly was assigned to HQ, and as such, she had barely any time to talk to the Doll she considered a sister in person, so they compensated by texting instead.
Sure, they could have used Level 2 to do it, but there was something about physically typing that she enjoyed. Plus, she could stay in Level 1 while she typed.
Grizzly: So, Springfield told me you've taken a liking to your new boss.
M1911: Well, he isn't cold like Prokhorov was, you know, and he's a bit goofy. Then again, I guess that's what ten years alone does to ya. He's also pretty easy on the eyes.
Grizzly: Ahh. What's his name?
M1911: Ian Becker. He's the war vet you took to the registration center back in May.
Grizzly: The guy who insulted my driving?
The blonde laughed at the statement, typing her response and sending it.
M1911: Yeah, and you know he wasn't lying when he said your driving was only suitable for a warzone. Like I said, though, he's not too bad. You'd like him.
Grizzly: How much do you like him?
M1911: After that absolutely disastrous first meeting, we hit it off instantly. Hell, he says I'm his first friend in a long time, and I think he's pretty cool.
Grizzly: Yep, you've got it bad...
Now that caused her to blush a little, for she knew exactly what Grizzly meant.
M1911: I'm not attracted to him, Grizzly! And don't you dare bring that damned story up!
The minute she sent that text, she knew she fucked up.
Grizzly: Oh? What story?
Cursing herself for being foolhardy, M1911 growled when she typed her reply in.
M1911: If you tell anyone this, I'll have you scrapped.
Grizzly: My lips are sealed.
M1911: Some asshole wrote smut about me and Becker when he was in the academy. The guy gave the only copy to him, though, but it's bad enough that he wrote it in the first place!
Grizzly: Was it good?
Now her face was beet red from both embarrassment and anger, and she angrily typed away her denial and sent it.
M1911: That's not the point! I'm not crushing on him, Grizzly, and that's final!
She knew in the back of her Digimind that Grizzly was laughing raucously at her expense and was probably enjoying flustering her quite a lot. And the worst part of it was that while she was the older Doll, Grizzly harnessed the "big sister energy" a lot better than her, and she was able to consistently tease the blonde to hell and back because of it. And based on her earlier replies, she was not backing down.
Grizzly: Yeah, sure. I'll it see for myself on my next visit.
M1911 was about to type another reply when she was saved by the Commander's voice on the PA.
"Can all Doll units come to my office, please? Thank you."
M1911: Gotta go, Grizzly, Commander's calling all of us.
Grizzly: Bye, sis.
Turning her phone off and putting it away, she immediately got her stuff gathered and hoofed it to the Commander's office.
Tactical Doll G36
"Hallo, Alexei. It's been a while."
The maid was currently at the edge of the forest, fully geared up in case her little moment was interrupted by Sangvis and crouched in front of a single weathered tombstone. Despite only having been dug three months ago, nature had still reclaimed the spot, with numerous flowers growing to the tombstone's left and right. While there were numerous individuals buried here, the one she had visited held a special place in her heart.
Here lies Alexei Prokhorov, a stalwart defender and a good man.
2028 - 2062
Ever since the attack on Station 794 that took Prokhorov's life, G36 had always made sure to visit his grave and tell him of anything that happened or how she was holding up, and even though he was gone, she felt that he could still hear her from wherever he went. However, as she hadn't paid his grave a visit since Commander Becker's arrival, she had decided to remedy that.
"I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you in a few days, but it's been very hectic at the base. You see, Frau 1911 saw fit to find a new Commander to lead us, and after about a month of trying, she had succeeded. Your successor was also a military man, although he's an American, unlike yourself. You'd like him, though, I'm sure of it."
A solitary tear slipped down her cheek, but G36 pressed on.
"After he arrived, Griffin HQ's been giving us a lot of work, and we've spent the last few days trying to get the base into a better state. Even Frau AK put effort into it, if you can believe it. Then again, she isn't M249."
Laughing sadly at her comment, she placed her left hand on the tombstone and rubbed it softly.
"Concerning the old blood's attitude about your successor, Frau 1911 is the happiest she's been since the attack, and Frau AK's finally made some progress in properly coping with A-91's death. If only I could do the same for you, mein Liebe..."
A rustling in the bushes caused the maid's head to shoot towards her left, where a small squad of Sangvis consisting of three Vespids emerged, likely trying to scout the base out, but it didn't matter what they were there for. What mattered was that they had disrupted a very private moment, and that she was still very, very vengeful, even if she didn't show it on the outside.
Raising her Imprinted rifle, she set it to semi-auto and placed the crosshair directly on the center Vespid's head, her finger slipping to the trigger.
This is for Alexei and everyone else you took from us.
With carefully-measured aim, G36 pulled the trigger three times, with each short burst fired downing a Vespid before it could get a shot out, the spray of purplish oils strangely satisfying as her bullets perforated their helmets and heads.
As she looked at the freshly killed Sangvis Dolls in front of her, the rising sun alerted her to the time, in which her duties would soon begin. It only then occurred to her how beautiful it was in the early mornings, and that they couldn't have laid Prokhorov and the others lost in the attack to rest in a more beautiful place.
"Can all Doll units come to my office, please? Thank you."
"Jawhol." G36 reported, heading back to base with a single oath in mind.
I will never lose another Commander if I can help it.
Tactical Doll AK-47
"Gosh, this place is such a mess."
Standing in the destroyed Café, the Russian AR ran a white-gloved hand along the caved-in counter, her fingertips turning grey from whatever dust hadn't been wiped off by whoever cleaned the room. Despite the heavy damages dealt to the room, a few pictures managed to avoid getting knocked off the walls, and while they were weathered, they were still intact, allowing AK-47 to abandon her idle dusting, approach the center picture, and gently pull it off the wall to look at it.
It was a picture of the old Echelon One in Springfield's Café, with M1911 standing in the center of the photo with a bright grin on her face, MP40 and Type 64 to her left, strict and quiet as ever, and AK-47 and A-91 to her right, highly intoxicated as usual (although the former was a little less of a drunk than A-91 was).
The photo in question had been taken after an important operation against a nasty Sangvis detachment who had been responsible for a ridiculously high death toll on Griffin's end, and after he got lucky and spotted the group in an abandoned factory, Prokhorov had wasted no time in organizing his troops and destroying them. While they did lose a lot of Dummies in the fight to destroy them, no Doll mainframes had been injured or damaged, and as such, Echelon One and Echelon Two wasted no time in having a celebration, and the picture in her hands was the result of said celebration.
"Goodness, how long ago was this taken?" the blonde said, scanning the photo with her optics- finding it to have been taken in February, only three months into the Griffin/Sangvis conflict.
How long has this thing been going on? Months? A year? she wondered, putting the picture back where it was, then picking another, smaller one off of the wall, which featured her and A-91 atop a destroyed Sangvis Manticore combat mech, the former's rifle propped on her leg and her hand on her hip as she set her foot on the metal beast's broken optic, and the latter sitting on a heavily-armored leg, her flask in hand as she held it out towards the camera.
"Oh, yeah, I remember this thing. It was nasty." she told herself, putting the picture back and picking up the one next to it.
It was probably the oldest of the pictures, dated two years before the start of Sangvis' uprising, with M1911 and Grizzly standing side-by-side making the victory hand-sign, the two Dolls wearing the same uniforms they always wore and bearing lovely smiles.
Of course, at this time, AK-47 wasn't part of Station 794's staff yet, as M1911 told her Grizzly was reassigned to Griffin HQ before her arrival, but thanks to her monthly visits to see her sister, she had managed to meet the "Grizzly bear," as Commander Becker had once called her.
"Wonder if we should petition for Grizzly to come back..." she said, putting the picture back as the PA sounded.
"Can all Doll units report to my office, please? Thank you."
"Damn it. Coming, Boss." the Doll muttered, casting the photo wall one final glance before she left.
Tactical Doll Springfield
Clad in only a bathrobe, Springfield stepped out of the shower with a soft sigh, the stench of the battles from yesterday washed away from her body as she laid down on her bed, as Echelon Two's dorm was the only one that still had a bed, even if it had no frame to support it.
As she cast a gaze around her room, she saw a picture of her laughing at some sort of joke, at the expense of a Doll with somewhat-muted violet and vivid red eyes in a black and yellow uniform, who was glaring at Springfield with red cheeks, her arms flat to her sides as she did so.
Hah, maybe I should give her a call...
Rolling over, Springfield picked a laptop up and placed it on her bed, flipping the screen up and turning it on, logging herself in when the login screen showed. She then selected the Grifchan media site exclusive to Griffin and Kryuger employees and found the Doll's profile on it, then without a moment of hesitation she called it, and two rings later, she appeared on the brunette's screen.
"What do you want?" she asked exasperatedly, a thick German accent in her voice.
"Why so harsh, Wa-chan~?" Springfield replied in a mock-hurtful way. "I just wanted to talk to my sweet, adorable junior and see how she was doing~"
"H-Hey, don't tease me like that!"
"Fine~"
Her tone indicated that she wouldn't stop doing so.
"Anyways, if you want to know, I'm dealing with idiocy day in and day out." the violet-haired Doll, Wa-chan, told her. "From my Commander, from my colleagues, they're all stupid... What about you?"
"We have a new Commander now, and we're going on operations again."
"Is he a dummkopf?"
"No. He's quite lovely to be around, and I'm sure he wouldn't drive you crazy like your current Commander is. Plus, I'm sure he'd love to have an adorable Doll like you around the base~"
"I-I told you to stop that!" Wa-chan squeaked indignantly, her scathing glare ruined by the blush on her face.
"But you're so cute when you get flustered, Wa-chan~" the older Rifle pouted.
"Ugh. D-Dummkopf."
"Can all Doll units come to my office, please? Thank you." the PA sounded.
"Aww. It looks like I have to go, Wa-chan. Bye now~" Springfield shut the call off and fetched her normal outfit from a wardrobe, quickly changing into it and tossing her bathrobe in a basket before leaving the room.
Tactical Doll P38
"Hallo, Nagant."
P38 stood alone in the Repair Bay, the blueish light of the bay reflecting on her glossy hair as she spoke to the inactive M1895. She knew for a fact that the Russian wouldn't hear her, but she didn't care about that.
"So uh, turns out, Griffin forces were able to find us after all, even with how things are going for our base, and they were able to find a dependable Commander, which is why we got saved in the first place. Oh, we've got a few new faces here, too! There's a Sten now, and there's also an FN-49, an FNC, and an IDW living here. We don't have enough living space or memory storage for the new Dolls yet, but they still like it here."
The idol looked around the repair bay, looking for something to say, but soon, she fell quiet for a minute or two, the only noise other than her breathing being the gentle buzz of the lights. Finally, after three minutes were up, she spoke up once more.
"I'm so sorry you can't be here to see this, because things are finally getting a bit better here compared to three months ago, but I promise you that when you return, I'll make a wonderful performance to celebrate it, ja?"
That was when the PA chose to go off, interrupting her talk with M1895.
"Can all Doll units come to my office, please? Thank you."
"I'll see you later, Nagant!" she hurriedly called out as she left the room.
Commander Ian Becker
Precisely fifteen minutes after using the PA, the ten or so Dolls on-site were stood in his office, awaiting whatever he would tell them to do, for the fact he didn't call them to the Command Room meant he wasn't sending them on a mission. However, they were a bit crowded in the small room, and the man was sure that some of them were claustrophobic.
"So... what are we here for, sir?" M1911 carefully asked.
"Good news from HQ. Read it." Ian replied, showing the Dolls Helian's text message, with M1911 adopting a surprised look after she read the message.
"Hang on a minute, the sender was the Helianthus?" the HG asked incredulously.
"Uh, yeah. She's my correspondent with HQ." he replied somewhat lamely.
"She's the Sub-Director of the entire company!"
That made him do a double take. Helian was actually the Sub-Director of Griffin and Kryuger? Why didn't she tell him that in the first place?
"Wait, really? She told me she was just a senior officer!"
"Sir, that's just because she figured you'd try too hard to impress her and make an ass out of yourself if you knew her real position." Kalina told him, sighing as Sten spoke up next.
"Wait, so Skorpion and Papasha are coming here?" she asked slowly.
"Didn't the text say that? Although I'm not sure if it's the same PPSh-41 from your outpost, but it might be."
"Woohoo!" she cheered.
"Aw, hell." AK-47 cursed as she read the P.S. "We're going to be fighting a Ringleader, aren't we?"
The look on his face told her all she needed to know.
"Blyat."
"Yeah, that's about what I said." Ian told her, sighing. "Anyways, those two will be coming here with M1895's new body and we're on standby for another operation, so be ready. Dismissed."
As the Dolls filed out of the room one-by-one, he turned to Kalina.
"This is gonna suck, isn't it?"
A few hours later...
Standing by the front door of the base, Ian patiently waited for the new Dolls to arrive, his glasses hanging from his collar while he waited for them. Beside him stood Sten, her bright red jacket contrasting with his maroon trench coat quite nicely, and also reminding him of two characters from an old machinima webseries he and his squad used to watch.
Soon, though, two grey trucks with Griffin's shield marked on them rolled in, one of them with a canopy over the bed and the other toting an orange construction mech in a trailer.
"That should be them." Ian told Sten, pulling out a radio for the guard at the gate. "Let 'em in."
The gate opened and the trucks drove in, throwing clouds of dust up behind them as they drove in and parked in front of the base. Opening the door, the Commander and Sten stepped outside as two SMG Dolls stepped out into the early morning light.
He had seen the first one before, but unlike in that accursed video, she was intact and her face held a look of wonder as she took in her new surroundings. The second one had blonde hair in twin braids, baby blue eyes, a round, freckled face, and a short stature. She wore a brown ushanka with a matching shawl that had a white trim, with a blue and white-trimmed jacket with a matching skirt that covered white stockings with white rhombus patters on it and white boots with green laces. Brown gloves covered her hands and she had a PPSh-41 submachine gun strapped to her back.
"Hello, you two. I'm Commander Becker, the guy in charge of this place." he introduced himself softly, causing the Dolls to turn to look at him, introducing themselves in turn.
"I'm vz.61 Skorpion, and I thank you for enabling my rescue."
"I'm PPSh-41, but it's fine if you call me Papasha!"
Okay, let's completely and utterly ignore the fact that Papasha means "daddy" in Russian. Ian told himself as he shook their hands. Or is it "father?"
"Okay, if I'm not mistaken, you should be familiar with this Doll--"
He was instantly cut off as the two new arrivals blew past him to embrace Sten.
"Sten! You made it!"
"Thank goodness you're here!"
"Commander, a little help?" Sten asked feebly, squished between her two teammates.
"You two don't need to kill your teammate, you know." he sighed, causing them to look back at him.
"So, uh, what Echelon are we being assigned to?" Skorpion asked him.
"Seeing as both current Echelons are full, I guess I'll be putting you in a new one."
Behind the two Dolls, the second truck's occupants unloaded the construction mech into a garage, then they entered the first one's bed and withdrew three crates and a white, human-sized pod of sorts.
"Oh, uh, this here contains a new body for your M1895." the driver explained, patting the pod.
"Got it. Get it to the Repair Bay, Sten here will take you to it." he told the man, sending the Redcoat to them to aid them.
"Yes, sir! Follow me!" she told the driver, directing him and the guy he brought with him to carry the pod into the base.
"Uh, you need to sign this." a Griffin employee from the other truck said, handing Ian a piece of paper on a clipboard with a pen. Taking them, he carefully signed his name on the form and gave it back to him, going to the crates and fetching a box of ammo labeled as 7.62x25 Tokarev to take it to the storeroom.
"Hey, Skorpion, Papasha, can you help me take these crates to the storeroom?" the Commander asked the two Dolls, who promptly ran to his aid, picking up a crate of .32 ACP rounds and a crate of 7.62x38mmR rounds. After making sure he wouldn't drop it, he left for the storeroom, the two new arrivals following closely behind.
After putting the ammo in its place and introducing the new SMGs to the others, Ian had returned to his office to find a note on his desk, promptly swearing when he read it.
'Helian called again. I told her you were busy welcoming the new arrivals, and she's been waiting for you. I think she wants us to go after the bitch that tortured Skorpion. - Kalina.'
Turning the projector on, he called Helian and set the note aside, sighing when she appeared.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Sub-Director." he greeted irritably, a little incensed that she lied to him.
"So the cat's out of the bag? Should have figured that would happen sooner or later. Anyways, this is very important, so listen closely." Helian instructed. "Do you remember the note I sent you?"
"Yup. You mentioned an HVT roaming in my Sector. Is this what this is about?" he asked next, voice even despite his irritation, as he knew the consequences of getting angry with one's commanding officer all too well.
"Yes. Say hello to Sangvis Ferri Production Model SP65."
A digital file of the Sangvis Doll that tortured Skorpion appeared in front of Helian, large enough for Ian to comfortably read.
"'Using the callsign Scarecrow, this Doll is a low-ranking Ringleader that specializes in intelligence gathering and interrogation. While she is a stellar forward scout, she in less than stellar in direct combat and prefers flight over fight, which causes other Ringleaders to look down on her. Her weapons of choice if she has to fight are an array of small, wirelessly controlled drones armed with green-hued plasma weaponry.'" Ian read, his anger skyrocketing as he read the heartless Doll's file. "'She also lacks an emotion module, as a lack of emotion helps her extract information better.' Now that I've read this, I really want to take her out now."
"Unfortunately, we need to recover her memory unit, and destroying her runs the risk of destroying the aforementioned module, so your objective is to incapacitate her and recover her memory unit. Do you understand?"
Sighing, he settled for a nod.
"Good. I've assigned Stations 601 and 737 to push her into the old carnival site a mile to the west of the city, but ultimately, it will fall to you to secure Scarecrow. I have already uploaded the coordinates to the carnival your colleagues are to push her into, as well as a list of recommended equipment to use against her. Good luck and godspeed."
Her hologram swiftly dematerialized from the projector, leaving only Scarecrow's file on it before he filed it away and turned the PA on.
"All Doll units, report to the Command Room." Ian said into it clearly. "You're gonna love this."
Next up, Operation Uproot! I know the anime used a carnival for the Scarecrow fight, but the carnival site was pretty unique, so I'll still use it. Concerning Mirror Stage, may all readers who played or watched its story drop an F in the chat for Machlian and Light, as well as respects to MICA Team's writers for making this event's story such a banger?
Anyways, I was planning on adding more content to this chapter, but unfortunately, I couldn't find it in me to do so, so I'll add the cut content to the next chapter. Also, I hope I wrote the part with G36 talking to Prokhorov well, as well as Ian's nightmare and Wa-chan's cameo.
Gah, I'm rambling again, so I'll see you next chapter!