Avrora was more than dizzy when she awoken.

Aside from soot and dust, the grimly familiar stench of blood and carbon left her reeling in disgust. Most damning of all, the sound of helicopters and Japanese battle cries was an unwelcoming spectacle. In fact, it was barely a moment after she opened her eyes and shook herself that three of these 'helicopters' began to approach her.

Behind them in the distance, one of those helicopters was gunning down a bunch of soldiers in green. Needless to say, her 'hydrophones' can clearly hear Russian chatter in all direction, so when she saw that helicopter gun them down, she aimed and fired her main battery … with a vengeance. In her salvo, seven shells let loose, obliterating the trio and, eventually, the fourth/faraway one.

"First the Germans, and now the Japanese?" She grumbled disappointingly, "Bozhe moi, it always has to be some pathetic little country…"

Scoping her surroundings, she slowly skated across the river, briefly familiarising herself with 14 knots before coming to a halt.

"The Fortress!" She gasped, spotting dozens of Japanese warriors and tanks surrounding the walls, especially the cathedral within its walls.

Appalled, she fired another salvo, showering seven shells upon the northern rim of the island. Dirt and shrapnel spewed everywhere, almost completely decimating the infantry. Among the eight Tsunami tanks, two were reduced to scrap piles, with the six others turning and driving towards the Russian shipgirl.

Turning around, she spewed a salvo from her port side, shredding the surprisingly amphibious war machines in seconds. But in her haste, she grunted as a stream of plasma bolts pecked at her back. Cringing her eyes and lips, she sidestepped and sped leftward, turned around, and popped a 76.2mm shell at a Striker VX overhead.

Watching its entrails shower into the river, she was about to turn back to the fortress when another stream of plasma fire struck her. Though they were much smaller and weaker, the extreme heat stopped her, earning an annoyed scrunch on her face. Along the Petrogradskaya Embankment, a total of fifteen Imperial warriors were shooting at her, who she replied back with her QF 2-pounder.

Within seconds, the foolish warriors were pulverised into bloody pastes, exploding like watermelons whenever a 40mm shell struck them. Still, a couple of those foreign invaders survived, attempting to crawl away, either having their legs shot out or their torsos blown open. As a finishing touch, she popped a 152mm shell, splattering gore and masonry upon detonation.

But upon hearing the explosion, a metallic 'chink' latched onto her back, suddenly developing an irresistible itch. Instinctively reaching behind her, she felt something other than her rigging, now wanting to frantically get it off. Having her back facing the embankment as she spun around, her grip was no use, and nor would her guns reach her back anyway.

Then, a burst of gunfire echoed nearby. Almost as quick as the itching appeared, it abruptly vanished a la a bunch of sparks. Turning and looking at her feet, she barely got a glimpse of a dragonfly-esque machine as it lifelessly sunk into the water.

"Comrade!" A Russian voice called, coming from the embankment, "Are you alright?"

Looking up, she saw a group of Russians in green and red military attire. Judging by their identical tunics, trousers, load-bearing harnesses, and weaponry (AK47s and AKMs, if she recalls), she was much relieved to see some friendly faces at last. Among the mishmash of colours, nine of them wore blue berets, one of them having Major-General markings.

However, upon seeing his face, she squinted momentarily...

"I know you..." She softly recollected and sailed closer to the embankment, "You used to visit me so many times."

"Eh?" The Russians frowned, all eyes focused on the Commander.

"It's nice to see you again, Mikhail~"

"Well it's- wait, how do you know ... my name?" He scrutinized, completely suspicious of the young woman in front of him, "In fact ... WHO are you? I have no memory of seeing you before. Neither as a kid or teenager."

"Yes you have." She softly chuckled back, "Do you remember the Great Patriotic War?"

"Da, of course. In fact, we- hold a second..." He paused, but his eyes quickly dilated, "Net..."

"Da~"

"Are you ... the Avrora?"

"Da! Avrora, reporting in!" She smiled, suddenly excited at the Commander's recollection, "It's been long time since I last seen you."

"Uh ... Comrade Commander?" Kuplinov frowned, completely lost in the exchange, "What the hell is going on here?"

Breathing a long sigh, the Commander explained, "It's a long story, but I was involved in the Siege of Leningrad. I was 19 years old when I was last aboard the Avrora, and at that time, I was a mere conscript."

"My, my~, how much you grown!" Avrora happily elated.

"It's Commander, now." He deadpanned, albeit sternly if not warmly, "While I have many questions about you, I don't believe I need to tell you what's happening here."

"Da, just like old times, but the dogs speak Japanese. What else did I miss, Comrade Commander?"

"Not much, but time is of the essence. You saw the Fortress?"

"Da. Nothing good…"

"We're trying to mount a counterattack and retake it. Trouble is, we don't have the manpower or equipment to take and hold it."

"Why not take the bridges?"

"They're demolished. Unless you got an idea, we're trying to regroup and gather any survivors, especially those with APCs."

Looking at the island to her left, the shipgirl paused, pondering upon the unfortunate circumstances surrounding the fortress.

"I can bombard those Imperialist dogs. It might buy you some time to-"

"Wait, you want to … shell the fortress?" The Commander interrupted, incredibly skeptical, "You can't. We can't risk friendly fire until we know who's inside those walls."

"Da, but somebody needs to save these people. Surely you can't be in two places at-"

"Helicopter!" One of the conscripts yelped, aiming his AK towards the Pirogovskaya Embankment.

Alerted, Avrora turned right, spotting a Striker VX transforming into its helicopter configuration from a distance. Sensing the danger, she fired several 76.2mm shells; however, the helicopter saw it coming, reflexively leaning into a sharp left break. But strangely, instead of pursuing Avrora and the Commander, it retreated and fired a missile salvo at the Smolnaya Embankment … straight towards a few amphibious BTRs swimming in the river.

"Oh no you don't." She grunted, turning and pursuing the Japanese rotor-bot.

"Avrora?!" The Commander hollered, apparently unable to see what was happening.

"What's it doing?" A paratrooper uttered, equally perplexed as much as the Commander and the others.

Nonetheless, Avrora sprinted a short distance and eliminated the helicopter; however, she quickly spotted a couple Tsunami tanks a short distance down the river. Narrowly sidestepping an incoming plasma bolt, she fired a 152mm shell, not at the tanks, but at the water. While the duo capsized apiece, three out of four of the combined tank crews broke the surface, where the shipgirl fired two 152mm shells, fulminating if not drowning them in a bloody mess.

But upon seeing the amphibious vehicles in question, she needed to rub her eyes momentarily, as there was no way she saw a comically large 'mortar' barrel at the back of each vehicle. Letting them pass her, she watched as they finally swam into the Commander's view. In the meantime, she escorted them from the right, getting a closer look at their twin-barrelled 23mm AA turrets.

"The KDB-2." He muttered, "I thought they were still in development…"

"What was that?" Kuplinov chirped … curiously, only to spot the APCs in question, "Oh … they look like mechanical bullfrogs."

Pretending he didn't hear that, the Commander waved at the trio, signalling them to their position. Once near the embankment, the front hatch on the leading Bullfrog opened, revealing a man in his late 30s. But when the conscripts saw him, they smiled.

"Comrade Oleg." Makarov called, instantly recognising the man, "You're alright!"

"Good to see you again." Oleg Vodnik (Dimitri Diatchenko) nodded with a smirk, "Where's the rest of the 16th?"

"We've been scattered, but Comrade Commander over here saved us." He shrugged towards the [paratrooper] Commander.

"Ah, so you are the Commander that I've been informed of."

Climbing and reaching his arm up, he exchanged a handshake, "Oleg."

"Mikhail." The Commander returned the favour before spotting the Major-General markings, "Who are you in charge of?"

"Ah, why the Soviet Armour Divisions, particularly the Motor Rifles of Leningrad."

"I've been informed you been through hell since Petrozavodsk. I'm here to rescue you."

"Ha, very funny~" Oleg chuckled, "I need no rescuing. I'm more worried about the city if anything."

"Da, and on that topic, we're trying to mount a counteroffensive for the fortress. Taking it is easy, but holding it will be the hard part."

"Say no more. I got more than a dozen of my men aboard to help."

"That would make us 31 strong, and 61 strong once we're inside."

"49 strong, then 79. Say, speaking of men…" Oleg turned and nodded to Avrora, "Who's that lovely Anastasia over there?"

"Oh, well … it's a long time."

"I got time~"

"Trust me, you won't believe me, Comrade Oleg."

"I've seen plenty of crazy. How bad can it be?"

Pausing momentarily, the Commander swivelled and stared at his subordinates in either direction. Only Kuplinov could sense his discomfort, exchanging a subtle frown and shrug to his superior. Seeing no other choice, the Commander sighed and turned around, "Oleg, how much do you know of the Avrora?"

Almost instantly, the Colonel frowned, "Oh I- chto? Who?"

"The Avrora. The tsarist cruiser?"

It took a few seconds until he chuckled back, "Ah, well, I'm no sailor, Commander. I don't think I be much help."

"You don't need to." He sternly, albeit amicably, informed, "Because that woman … is the Avrora."

A somewhat unconvinced chuckle was about to form on Oleg's face ... when Avrora shouted, "Look out! Behind you!"

Reflexively, the Comrade Commander - as well as the paratroopers and conscripts - looked behind him, spotting two Tsunami tanks and a Striker VX heading straight for them.

Startled, he shoved Kuplinov aside, which was enough prompting for the group to flee. He and another conscript were only a few steps away behind a building when a giant plasma bolt flew over them. While the conscript was unscathed, the Commander's beret was blown and incinerated midair.

"Oof!" He grunted, unconsciously patting his left hand atop his head.

Once he got around the corner, a 152mm shell thundered across, smashing the left tank, but decapitating the right one of its turret. The Striker VX was about to touchdown, but Avrora popped another 152mm shell at it. Unfortunately, it only sliced the rotors off; however, the kinetic energy from the near miss did knock the Japanese transformer off balance.

Spinning halfway around and leaning against the building, Avrora sprayed it down with her QF 2-pounder. While some of the 40mm rounds ricocheted, most of them shredded fist-sized holes, although the subsequent explosive warheads transformed them into beachball-sized cavities and craters. Before long, there was nothing left but the legs, which ... comically stood in place for a moment before collapsing into a kneeling heap.

Meanwhile, the turretless, albeit furious, Tsunami tank reoriented itself, quickly driving around the wreckage. Shaking her head disapprovingly, she fired a 152mm shell at it; however, when the explosion cleared, a sparkling blue mist surrounded the neutered tank. Blinking momentarily, she fired another 152mm shell, which had no effect.

"Comrade Commander!" She shouted as loud as possible, "These tanks have shields!"

The Commander was about to ask what she said, but upon seeing the tank round the corner, he and his fellow comrades staggered. Much to his surprise, Makarov sprinted ahead, sloppily jumping on top of the tank before it began to accelerate again. While the others sprinted inside the adjacent synagogue, the Commander ran around the tank, almost getting sideswiped by the treads as it not only tried to shake the sergeant off, but keep the Commander in its sights.

Clinging, if not crawling, on the tank, Makarov dared looking through the viewports, catching a glimpse of the furious, animalistic faces of the Japanese crew inside. As he began to kneel, the frontal section - which he was holding onto - flipped up, throwing him off and onto the windshield of a nearby car. Of course, the Japanese metaphorically shot themselves in the foot, as their immobility allowed the Commander to brandished a molotov - courtesy of a thoughtful conscript - and hurled it at the exposed turret ring.

While the nanomachines protected the tank, it couldn't protect the exposed wiring, hydraulic lines, and crew compartment from flaming synthetic alcohol. So when the tank recomposed itself and sped towards Makarov, a geyser of flames slowly jettisoned from the middle of the tank. Lackadaisically, albeit frantically, rolling leftward, the sergeant leaped off the car, splashing into the river as the tank thundered past him ... and mindlessly crashed into the water as well.

"FWA!" Makarov sputtered as he broke the surface, slowly swimming towards the Bullfrogs, "Barely got away."

Meanwhile, a bunch of Imperial warriors began to shoot at the Commander from the rooftops.

The trees and benches that lined the embankment provided very little protection, spewing burning and molten leaves and wood as he sprinted across the pavement. Fortunately, he didn't need to run for long, as a 152mm shell tore into the marauding Japanese riflemen. But, there was still a handful of warriors atop the synagogue, who witnessed Avrora's awesome firepower and fled; however, they still had a visual of the Commander down below.

Upon looking over the edge, the Commander had pressed himself against the wall, managing to fire a burst and scoring a headshot. Paying no attention to the body falling off the building, he was forced inside the synagogue when five others poked over the edge and shot at him. Just as they were about to repursue, another 152mm shell hurled towards them, reducing them to bloody giblets and scrap metal.

Lowering her right rigging, she drew a long blow at the smoking barrels, forming a light smile on her face afterwards. But a startled gasp formed when 7.62mm bullets whizzed to her left. Tracing the source towards the Bullfrogs, she stared at Makarov with an appalled look ... until he pointed at the water, where a fizzling Burst Drone drowned and short-circuited.

"Be careful of your surroundings, Princess." Oleg jollily reminded her, "You might have more firepower than an entire division, but you're still human."

Pretending that he wasn't there, she reached to her earpiece, "Comrade Commander, are you okay?"

"Da, we're fine." He replied remotely, "Where's Makarov?"

"He's with Comrade Oleg."

"Tell him we're going to need a lift. We're going on the offensive, now."

Curtly nodding, she sailed beside the Bullfrogs, relaying the order, "Comrade Oleg, the Commander needs a ride. You got room?"

"Uh, only for a few more. Otherwise, I'm packed to the brim."

Just as she was about to call the Commander, he and the others peered over the railing.

"Comrade Avrora, give us covering fire until we beach."

"Right away~" She happily hummed, sailing in the middle of the river and blasting a distant Striker VX out of the air.

"Comrade Oleg, you got room for 19?"

"Net, only three, maybe six if you cram yourself inside the man-cannon."

Ignoring the problem, the Commander simply nodded to the conscripts and paratroopers, "Come on, jump on. Move, move, move!"

Within seconds, excluding three lucky conscripts, everyone clambered atop the Bullfrogs. Some of them sat on the turret; some on the man-cannon; the others clung to the sides. Being the last one, the Commander almost slipped into the water upon jumping on the bonnet, saved only by grabbing the twin 23mm gun barrels.

"Okay, let's go." He barked and sat down, his boots in the water as the Bullfrogs accelerated and turned.

Concurrently, Avrora's QF 2-pounder shredded a northbound Burst Drone swarm, with one of her 152mm cannons independently firing at the Arsenal'naya Naberezhnaya. Ten out of fourteen Imperial warriors were caught in the blast, most of them surprisingly unharmed; however, the loss of their footing or balance meant they were helplessly dragged or thrown into the river. Half of them managed to recover and take refuge in the remains of the Liteyniy Bridge, but everyone else, who stuck around the embankment or water for too long, was either pulverized - courtesy of another 152mm shell - or crushed by concrete.

Along the Palace Embankment, four Tsunami tanks took potshots at Avrora and the overcrowded Bullfrogs. But the Japanese armour platoon was barely ready for a second salvo when two 152mm shells tore into them. The rearmost tank survived, however, and reversed, disappearing into an adjacent alleyway before a 76.2mm shell harmlessly grazed across its front section.

Avrora was unforgiving, however, slowly sailing alongside the Bullfrogs as they advanced downstream. Upon seeing the cowardly tank, a 152mm shell split it open. Incidentally, the subsequent fragmentations sliced through a passing squad of Imperial warriors, with the remaining half walking away with minor concussions or bruises.

"Bozhe moi...!" Oleg awed at Avrora's firepower, "How come there's not any others like her?"

"Don't ask me." The Commander humbily shrugged, "At least she's on our side."

"Da, but ... I don't get it. How can a ship be a person? And why now?"

"Comrade Oleg, less questions and more doing."

Seconds later, the leading Bullfrog rocked slightly, crossing over a hunk of submerged concrete, belonging to none other than the Troitskiy Bridge ... or what's left of it. But up ahead, just as the island loomed into view, a parachute was seen in the distance. Frowning, the Commander looked through his binoculars.

"Comrade Natasha." He grumbled, spotting the black-red camouflaged tunic, trousers, and beret, "Somebody's taking the initiative."

"Did you say something?" Oleg turned and chirped.

"Comrade Commando Natasha is taking the south end. Her lack of communication is problematic, though."

"Maybe she's trying to be stealthy."

"Or maybe ... she smashed her headset."

Once she descended out of sight, he lowered his binoculars, refocusing his attention at the northern gate. As they closed near the shore, the Commander ordered, "Comrade Avrora, blast the gate."

Receiving his command via earpiece, she turned, elevating one of her 152mm guns and fired. The makeshift barricade - courtesy of the Japanese invaders inside - was effortlessly leveled, with another shell clearing the rubble. With no tanks, helicopters, infantry, or other obstacles in sight, the Bullfrogs came ashore, allowing everyone to dismount.

"Take the lead, we'll be on your six." The Commander ordered before sliding off.

"You got it." Oleg nodded, jumping back inside and closing the hatch.

With the three Bullfrogs rumbling ahead, the Commander and his comrades followed them. Plowing through the mess, Oleg drove and turned slight rightward, spotting and gunning the closest Imperialist squad he could find. Unfortunately for the other two, a pair of Tankbusters popped out from either side, surgically and swiftly cleaving through their sides.

Fortunately, the conscripts and paratroopers saw them, quickly eliminating them before any further damage could be inflicted. On the other hand, one out of the two Bullfrogs had all of its rightward tyres and tracks flatten - it was no longer operational. As for the other one, its troop compartment was partially blown open.

"Covering fire, covering fire!" Sergeant Kuplinov barked, kneeling next to the immobilised Bullfrog and firing bursts at a fallen Striker VX.

Safely, the two drivers killed the engine and climbed out, armed with nothing but an AKM-S apiece. Loudly racking the action of their guns as they jumped down, they knelt and provided further suppressing fire with Kuplinov. Cooperatively, two conscripts dashed around a nearby barracks structure, where they eventually peered around the corner and ambushed the warriors from their vulnerable left flank.

While Oleg's 23mm guns couldn't elevate low enough to hit any prone or kneeling individuals, the conscripts and paratroopers took advantage of their firepower and numbers, gradually cornering the Japanese. But as they closed on the seven remaining warriors, the squad in question suddenly dropped dead, all of them forming a telltale red mist from their heads.

Silent at last, the Commander cautiously peered around Oleg's Bullfrog, relaxing into a patrol carry stance upon spotting Natasha.

"Comrade Commando, you made it." He greeted as he walked towards her, "You alone?"

"Da." She nodded, all the while loading a fresh magazine into her Dragunov, "Looks like the enemy wasn't so stiff on your end."

"We got some ... unexpected reinforcements on the way."

Glancing at her load-bearing harness, a telltale piece of mangled plastic and wiring peaked his curiosity, "Huh, no wonder we couldn't call you. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Khoroshiy." He nodded, "Check the cathedral for survivors, we'll search outside."

"On the move." She amicably complied and jogged away.

"Huh … the barracks are still intact." Oleg noted as he poked his head out … speaking directly in earshot of the Commander.

Quietly, the Commander ran past the Bullfrog, finding both doors shut on either side.

"Comrade Dasha." He called via headset, "The fortress is secure, but the barracks are still on lockdown. Can you patch me through the complex?"

"Right away." She unitedly acknowledged.

Moments later, there was a muffled metal 'cla-chink' from each door, slowly opening to reveal five conscripts each side apiece. On the opposite side of the fortress, an identical barracks building opened its doors as well, pouring an additional ten conscripts out as well. But shortly after their arrival, the doors closed again, albeit without locking.

"That makes a hundred men plus one 'cruiser'." Oleg chimed in via headset.

"That was an approximate, Comrade Oleg." The Commander corrected, "For now, we have a lot of work to do."

"Agreed. In fact, I'm going to check in with Natasha."

"Go ahead, but her radio is broken."

Quietly, the transmission ended, allowing the Commander to turn and speak, "Comrade Soldiers, get every stretcher available, we might have possible casualties."

"Da, Comrade Commander." The ten fresh conscripts saluted.

Once inside, the group descended via freight elevator, where they came upon an underground station. Bustling with workers and mechanics, a metro train was arriving at the station when the conscripts flagged it down. Climbing into the cab, the sergeant ordered, "Comrade, do you have any stretchers aboard?"

"Sorry, nothing here. But check out that freight train over there, they might have something."

"Spasibo."

Climbing off, the group briskly crossed over, finding lots of workers hauling boxes with handcarts. The train - consisting of nothing but boxcars - was still unloading when they arrived, particularly ammunition, grenades, and AKs. On some of the cars, however, were the Red Cross insignias…

"Comrade Foreman," The sergeant hollered, spotting him besides the conductor, "We need stretchers. Do you have any?"

"Da, 40 of them. Are you medics?"

"Net, but we need them at once."

Sensing the urgency, the conductor nodded, taking over the situation and gesturing the group. Moments later, upon popping some of the boxes open with crowbars, each conscript was hurryingly carrying three folded canvas stretchers. But a few of the conscripts were hauling five stretchers, unfortunately incumbered by partial awkwardness and slowness.

Just as they began to reenter the freight elevator, the seventh conscript dropped two of the stretchers, obviously overburdened by the load. Fortunately, a bunch of flak troopers were dismounting from the train, jogging over and picking up the fallen stretchers. To the conscripts' slight chagrin, however, the flak troopers dumped their cannons on the stretchers, using them as makeshift carts.

"Comrades, this way, please." The tenth/last conscript directed the flak troopers, gathering them aboard the freight elevator, "Here, take this."

Offering four of the flak troopers his stretchers, the conscript knocked on the cab again, "Comrade, empty your train, we got wounded and dead incoming."

"Right away." The driver nodded and began to clamber into the back.

Narrowly missing the elevator, he barely squeezed himself between a couple flak troopers, "Eh, 'scuse me."

Simply rolling their eyes at him, the flak troopers kept their spot, reluctant to consider their comrade's comfort.

A minute later, everyone hustled outside.

"Comrades, we need those stretchers." The leading conscript ordered the flak troopers, "We got to load a hundred people within ten minutes."

Of course, he was partially lying, but it was enough to convinced the flak troopers. In fact...

"Ten minutes is not much time." One of the flak troopers innocently deduced, "Mind if I give a hand?"

"Da, da!"

"Hey, I'll go too." Another flak trooper joined.

Unloading their cannons, the duo joined alongside the conscripts.

Unknowingly, they sprinted past the Commander, who was exiting the cathedral.

"Comrade Dasha." He called, albeit from a safe distance, "Can you get me the names of those two?"

"Da ... uh ..." She complied, pausing momentarily, "Dimitri Petrenko and Ivan Sarapuu. The former is a convicted thief, and the latter has ... two counts of burglary and thirteen counts of illegal graffiti."

"What's their backgrounds outside of that?"

"Dimitri ... well, he was a Moscow college student until he was arrested for grand theft. As for Ivan ... he was an Estonian car mechanic, at least before he became a vandal."

"Well, keep an eye on them. For every comrade they help and recover, shave a month off their sentence."

"Comrade Commander..." She gasped, moderately flabbergasted, "You can't be seriously. That's EXTREMELY generous for a convict, never mind non-violent ones."

"If they survive and on good behaviour, give it to them. If whoever they recover is a corpse or dies, divide it by half. But if they behave badly above all, divide it by a tenth."

"Hmm, okay ... that's fair enough. Anything else?"

"Tell Moscow we got a trainload of casualties, specifically 47 dead and 151 wounded."

"Moscow is close to the front, Comrade Commander. Perhaps Nizhny Novgorod or Kazan - they would be safer."

"Net, that's an eight to nineteen hour train ride. Take them to Moscow. The Premier would understand."

"Very well."

"Khoroshiy. That'll be all." He comfortably concluded.

Just as he reached the bottom steps, however, his eyes dilated slightly. Reversing his direction, he began to climb up the bell tower when he called into his headset, "Comrade Avrora, what's your status?"

"Not much except for some dragonflies and tanks; lots of the latter, so to speak." She kindly reported; however, the Commander paused, incidentally sensing a more sheepish tone, "Tell me something, though."

"Hmm?"

"After I destroyed the gate, I destroyed more than 150 tanks, 94 helicopters, 20 dragonflies, and 351 soldiers. Does this not seem ... unusual to you?"

"Unusual?"

"Da."

"UN-USUAL...?" He parroted ... slowly, if not increasingly surprised of all, "Comrade Avrora, it's been twenty minutes since we landed, and that's a lot of stuff you destroyed, excluding what you destroyed before that."

"Ah ... well ..." She giggled ... meekly, "Somebody's mad right now."

"Of course, no doubt that-"

A burst of garbled static almost led him to yank his headset. Only the briefness and his discipline stopped him, although it couldn't stop him from forming a momentary cringe.

"Ah, why isn't it my favourite kind of scumbag." An unfamiliar Japanese voice complimented him ... darkly and gluttonously.

"Speak of the devil..." The Commander murmured internally, deciphering the Japanese accented Russian.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. Or ... rather, you can simply infer me as your demise."

"You have my attention, most of all." The Russian countered with a stoic deadpan, "I suppose you want to explain to me why you're opening your little mouth?"

"Sō sō~" His Japanese counterpart chuckled, although the Commander sensed a hidden sneer on the receiving end, "I couldn't help but wonder, but that's nice little boat you have there. It would be a shame if someone poked a hole in it."

"Likewise for your wallet and honour."

"Nrgh, don't be so confident in yourself. You just wait and see, as that was only the beginning. Let me show you what some REAL firepower looks like."

"With pleasure. Sayo-nara." The Commander happily bid farewell, albeit in a mild mocking manner.

Unsurprisingly, Dasha chimed in, somewhat unsettled, "Comrade Commander, that was very ... audacious, so to speak."

"I figured that adding insult to injury would fire him up." He calculatingly sighed, "After all, they are motivated by honour."

"Oh, well, you did more than just that."

"Oh?"

"The 76th Air Army spotted one of their cruisers entering the inner city canals just now. They are, what I believe the Americans infer, 'Hauling Ass', towards you in eight minutes."

"It's just one ship. Surely if take it out, it will block the river for the others."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. There has been increasing reports of Imperial battleships, apparently having made greater progress than expected."

"Alright. How soon will they be here?"

"Ten minutes."

"Hmm..." The Commander nodded, though he suddenly elated after an analytical pause, "Comrade Dasha, I have an idea."

"Da?"

"Can you get me the size and dimensions of the Imperial ships?"

"Right away."

As soon as Dasha left the call, he refocused his attention elsewhere, "Comrade Oleg?"

"What's up?"

"Have you got any word from the other Motor Rifle Divisions?"

"Uh ... lots of them. Which one?"

"Any as far as Krasnaya Zarya."

"Ah, nothing; however, remnants of the 16th and 85th are all over the place neighbouring that vicinity. Specifically, Kar'yer Myaglovo and Lensovetovskiy."

"Blyat..." The Commander grumbled under his breath, "Tell them to fall back."

"I can't, the E105, especially around Shushary, are swarming with helicopters."

"What about the M11 and E95, towards the Moskovsky District?"

"Are you kidding me? The adjacent Pulkovo Airport has been captured; the Imperialist dogs are using it to secure the highways."

"I'll send Avrora upstream to provide artillery support. All you need to do is provide her the firing coordinates once she's there."

"Ah ha~! That's brilliant!"

"Get your troops ready to pull out, but don't go until she's in position."

"No problem!"

Once Oleg was offline, the Commander redirected his attention to her, "Comrade Avrora?"

"I'm here~"

"I have an assignment for you."

"A new mission!" She elated, much to his surprise.

"Easy now." He soothingly disciplined, "Don't want to be too 'trigger happy', okay?"

"Sorry~, I'm more excited than I should be."

"Right ... I need you to head upstream and intercept the Japanese Fleet. While they're forced to sail in a single file line, they'll be here in a matter of minutes. You're not going alone, however. Natasha will be trailing you along with a couple flak troopers."

"I don't think they would be able to swim with me."

"They'll be taking one of the APCs and trail behind you. Stay close to them, however, there's a lot of drones and rotor-bots."

"Sounds good. When will they be ready?"

"Standby."

Just as he was about to contact Natasha, he turned upon hearing footsteps beneath the bell tower. Lo and behold, Natasha was ... relaxingly ... climbing the stairs, her Dragunov slung on her right shoulder.

"Comrade Natasha, glad you're here."

"Da, nice to see you, Comrade Commander." She calmly greeted back.

"Before you do anything, you're going to need a new radio or headset."

"I've already got one." She patted the radio on her left hip, "You can thank Comrade Oleg for that."

"Hmm. That's funny you mention him, because he's going to need some help."

"Oh, I better head back down, then."

"Hold on, hold on, you're going with Avrora."

"Comrade Avrora?" She chirped ... suspiciously.

"Da. And, net, you're not swimming. You're going to gather a couple flak troopers and hop aboard the only other Bullfrog. Aside from me, do what she says, but keep the skies clear at all cost."

"I'll keep it in mind." She firmly nodded before turning and rushing back downstairs.

"Comrade Avrora, she's on the way." He informed the shipgirl, "Once you see her, get going."

"Acknowledged."

A couple minutes later, the other surviving Bullfrog rumbled northward, sliding into the river and accompanying Avrora. Once the duo made headway upstream, the Commander turned again, staring towards the Strelka Vasil'yevkogo Ostrova...

It was only a few minutes later upstream, that Avrora saw five Tsunami tanks swimming downstream.

Looking over her shoulders, the Bullfrog kept close, occasionally swivelling its turrets, with Natasha poking out of the man-cannon. From the shipgirl's perspective, she could hear gunfire throughout the city, courtesy of her 'hydrophones'; however, the whirring electric turbines of the tanks were even louder as they drew closer. Silently, the two women shook their heads, with Natasha sitting back as Avrora turned to confront them.

Lobbing two 152mm shells, the subsequent splashes capsized three out of the five tanks, with the others briefly disoriented. Two crew members from the three tanks eventually broke the surface, flailing and swimming for refuge aboard the two others. Unfortunately, while the duo saw their compatriots and opened their turret hatches to allow them inside, a barrage of 23mm and 40mm shells pounded the tanks, shredding them to bloody giblets while punching deep dents or scorch marks into the armour.

Eventually, the tanks caught fire, one of them exploding violently as a geyser of flames spewed from the others. Simply plowing the wreckages aside, Avrora and the Bullfrog pressed ahead, eventually coming to a dead stop a few moments later. Silently, Avrora sailed ahead, leaving the amphibious APC to lag behind, wondering why she was speeding upstream against nothing.

A minute later, she past the Vantovyy Most, where she saw a Naginata Cruiser around the subsequent corner.

"I found the cruiser!" She alerted the Commander.

"Immobilise it. We need to clog the river."

Simply nodding, she barely saw a pair of underwater menaces heading her way. Startled at the last minute, she sidestepped and leaped over them, briskly stumbling as she landed back in the water. Has she been standing there for two more seconds, the torpedoes would have corrected their coordinates and turn into her.

Almost to her annoyance, another torpedo volley sped for her, who she simply veered left near the embankment. At the last second, she leapt over the torpedoes, narrowly catching a glimpse of the right one turning into her. Moments later, two plumes of water shot into the sky, spewing concrete and freshwater all over.

Contorted her lips inward, she hurled three 152mm shells at the cruiser. Unfortunately, the salvo ricocheted, forcing her to dodge another torpedo salvo. Quickly realising her mistake, however, she turned a full broadside, aimed slightly higher, and lobbed six shells downrange, earning her a smouldering, decapitated superstructure.

For the Japanese crew aboard, the loss of the bridge meant they were only able to follow their last orders - a fact made absolute by their discipline and warrior code. Thus, the torpedo bays did nothing, simply awaiting for their next command … which never came. Moments later, a pair of vigorous, if not thunderous, rumbles shook the ship, courtesy of Avrora plunging fire on the cruiser's port side deck.

Outside, realising their peril, some of the officers - accompanied by equally concerned sailors - rushed to the upper deck areas or remaining superstructure. Brandishing plasma rifles, or whatever firearm was available in the armoury, the frantic crew members shot at Avrora, attempting to shoo her away if not destroy her.

While Avrora was no speed demon or ballerina, her rigging passively blocked some of the shots while she zigzagged at a distance. At the same time, her QF 2-pounder hurled a firestorm of 40mm shells, either mowing them down or frightening them to take cover. Those that were close to the [flaming] bridge cowered behind a corner or fled downwards, realising that the stairs and catwalks offered no protection.

Concurrently, the ship was veering leftward, taking in water and speeding towards the embankment. With the bridge incapacitated, damage control nor the engine room had any idea what was happening, allowing Avrora to backpedal as it drew closer. Within minutes, the bow plowed into the embankment, disorienting everyone on deck while tossing both man and machinery on the inside.

Almost conveniently, the Naginata wedged itself beneath the Vantovyy Most, effectively blocking much of the Neva. Ceasing fire, Avrora stopped and inspected her handiwork, musing as she watched the sailors recover and frantically comprehend the situation. Some of the sailors had been thrown overboard, most of them - aside from the excruciating pain from landing in the water - were well, with the others gravely injured, dead, or already dismembered.

"Comrade Commander, it's done~" She reported into her headset.

"Khoroshiy. That should hold them for a bit." He sighed softly, "Now, I'm going to patch you through Comrade Oleg, your firepower is needed."

"What about the other ships?"

"Other ships?"

"I managed to wedge the cruiser under the Vantovyy Most, but if I recall from Tsushima, they'll scuttle their ship if anything."

"Oh, I see. Then fall back to the Volodarsky Most."

"Negative, it's in pieces. But the Finlyandskiy Zheleznodorozhnyi Most is still intact."

"Nu khorosho. Once you've assisted Comrade Oleg, continue to fall back and stall their fleet."

"Net problem~" She smiled upon turning and sailing downstream.

A few seconds later, there was a minute cringe of static, and Oleg appeared, "Avrora, do you copy?"

"Reading you loud and clear, comrade."

"I need you to fire at these following coordinates: 59.46 North, 30.27 East."

Instinctively, she frowned at the direction, but her eyebrows arose, realising what he meant, "That's Lensovetovsky."

"Da, fire at those coordinates. The 16th and 85th Motor Rifles are pinned down!"

Without a word, she stopped, turned southwest, elevating her guns for a few moments before hurling three 152mm shells.

Traveling at 792 metres per second, the shells whistled over Leningrad, completing a 9.6km journey to the town in question. Once there, the leading shell smashed into a dacha, with the other two pulverising the E105. In their wake, more than eleven Imperial warriors were incinerated, with two Tsunami tanks reduced to piles of twisted metal.

Across the street, a bunch of conscripts, accompanied by two BTR-60s and one Bullfrog, rushed out of a warehouse complex, heading straight onto E105 and slowly northward for a minute. As they began their retreat, three more 152mm shells showered onto the battlefield, demolishing a Tsunami tank and two Striker VXs southeast of the complex. A few minutes later, five more Bullfrogs and three BTR-60s trailed behind, no longer pinned down as they hauled exhausted and wounded soldiers aboard.

Near a bus stop down the highway, a pair of 152mm shells rained down upon four Tsunami tanks, allowing the 16th and 85th Motor Rifle to continue unimpeded. But not far westward, three more 152mm shells appeared, smashing into the Tamozhnya-Pamiatky railway customs offices and adjacent train yards. In a followup barrage, twenty Tsunami tanks (plus infantry), who were positioned around the terminals and railyards, were disabled or destroyed, unable to intercept the retreating Motor Rifle Divisions.

While the Striker VXs made their own interceptions, the 23mm cannons on the Soviet APCs easily countered the aerial assaults. Up ahead in Shushary, another pair of coordinates allowed Avrora to pummel an Imperial armour platoon, who were awaiting near an onramp to ambush the fleeing Soviet APCs. Thankfully, the overpass was still intact, allowing them to speed down Vitebskiy Prospekt and escape the Japanese encirclement.

"Okay, we're good - they can take it from here." Oleg sighed in relief, instantaneously clearing his throat before recomposing himself, "Now, fire at these coordinates ... 59.84 North, 30.67 East."

"Copy that." She computed, turning eastward and elevating her guns, "Within the light of dawn are spilled blood and raging flames..."

Unfortunately, her last few words were deafened by a full broadside of eight 152mm shells. Each gun fired a 41.4kg shell, which, combined with their muzzle velocity, was enough to not only cross 10.3km, but smash into a rail station and pulverise a few hidden Tsunami tanks. Nearby on a hill, squads of Imperial warriors were torn down by shrapnel, with the other shells landing in the backyards of other dachas.

"Target the 41K-78 a la following coordinates: 59.85 North, 30.67 East." Oleg rapidly relayed, "Repeat: 59.85 North, 30.67 East."

Obediently, she traversed slightly right, firing two more shells at a range of 10.26km. Within seconds, the shells landed beside another Tsunami tank squadron, who blockaded the southernly split. In their place, a pair of enormous craters leveled much of the split, so much so that a handful of pine trees were reduced to mere twigs and splinters.

Nonetheless, it was enough incentive for six BTR-60s and a Bullfrog to hurryingly turn from a nearby alleyway. Navigating around the craters and Japanese wreckages, the APCs paid no attention to a few surviving Imperial warriors. Speeding down the 41K-78, the APCs hardly stopped as they began a sharp right turn down a dirt road, with three other BTR-60s and two Bullfrogs following not far behind ... after running over the marauding warriors.

Down the road, there was a platoon of seven Tsunami tanks rumbling away from the fleet-footed APCs, apparently unaware of their enemy's newfound speed and naval artillery support. So when the APCs were only 0.2km away, several 152mm shells cleared the way; however, the ensuing destruction left the road too unstable for the Motor Rifle Division to trudge into Dnp Ryzhiki. Fortunately, a simple leftward veer allowed them to skirt around the craters, wreckages and, most importantly, the residential town's main thoroughfare.

Using the back streets and alleyways to sneak around or outright avoid detection or ongoing skirmishes, the nine BTRs and three Bullfrogs neared a corner of the town, 1-Ya Liniya. But before they arrived at the corner, four 152mm shells demolished half a dozen trees, allowing the APCs to turn rightward, discovering and following the railroad tracks.

Minutes later, upon destroying the guardrail and a couple dozen more trees, the survivors rumbled onto the E-105. Miraculously, there were no Imperial forces to intercept or ambush them, as they were too preoccupied in Razmetelevo. By the time the closest Imperial armour battalion arrived on the scene, the Soviet APCs have crossed an overpass outside of Kudrovo.

"Fine shooting, Princess." Oleg congratulated, grateful beneath his jolly voice, "I'll send word to have them regroup at the Volodarsky Most. They would be a fine addition to-"

"Net, the bridge is destroyed. Have them fall back at the Most Aleksandra Nevskogo; it's still largely intact."

"It'll be a long way up there, but I'll see what I can do. Oleg out."

Once Oleg was gone, she refocused her voice elsewhere, "Comrade Commander, I'm on my way back."

"Copy that. Be care-"

His never got to finish his orders when a tumultuous explosion rippled through the Naginata Cruiser; however, instead of a fireball, a large imposing vessel bisected the ship and bridge at tremendous speeds. An enormous, albeit angular, catamaran warship emerged from the destruction, spewing nano-steel and concrete in all directions.

Spooked, the Russian shipgirl dashed downstream, finding Natasha and the Bullfrog resting behind the Volodarsky Most. Through her scope, the Commando didn't need to know what was happening when she saw the terrified shipgirl fleeing for her life. The sight of the Shogun Battleship plowing through the Neva River was enough for her to activate her laser sight and call in an airstrike.

Moments later, a distant whirring sound of overhead propellers was heard, belonging to a four-engine Badger bomber.

"Bombs away!" The bomber pilot hollered on the radio, "Impact, 15 seconds!"

Veering her rifle slightly left, the laser beamed onto the Shogun Battleship, particularly its port side deck.

"Ten, nine, eight…" She counted internally, "…seven, six, five-"

Suddenly, an explosion shattered her concentration, coming directly from the Japanese dreadnought itself. Once she instantly regained her senses, fire and smoke was spewing from starboard side, with the laser-guided bomb grazing the port side, harmlessly splashing into the river. Despite the singular impact, the battleship began to list to starboard, its catamaran design now unstable as one side began to flood, completely upsetting its centre of gravity and stability until it was almost 110 in the water.

"Comrade Natasha, what's happening over there?!" The Commander barked through her radio, "I can't get a hold of Avrora!"

"The Japanese broke through the bottleneck." She calmly reported, though there was a tinge of confusion in her voice, "From the looks of it, their battleships are leading the charge."

"The Shogun Battleships. You can thank Dasha for that intel."

"Da. I just sunk one just now, but looks like there are more heading this way."

"Speaking of sinking, where's Avrora?"

"She's in front of us." Natasha turned and spotted her, who was apparently panting as she saw the once-mighty battleship capsized, "A bit shaken, but okay, nonetheless."

"Tell her to get back here as soon as possible! It's not safe anymore."

"On the move." She curtly nodded.

Knocking a couple times on the driver's hatch, she relayed to him, "Take us alongside her."

With a nod, the Bullfrog sailed beside the shipgirl, where Natasha sternly commanded, "Comrade Avrora, the Commander needs us back at once. If you can't sail on your own steam, we'll do it for you."

"Huh? Net, net." She exclaimed with surprising ponderousness, but she hastily recomposed herself, "I-I'm okay, I'm okay. Da, let's get out of here."

Sailing downstream, the group underwent five minutes of uneventful adventuring ... until a trio of 400mm superheated slugs landed not far behind them.

"Badger squadron on my mark!" She loudly ordered on her radio, resting her Dragunov on the man-cannon beforehand.

Peering through her scope, she almost missed another lumbering Shogun Battleship, who was beginning to lurk behind the capsized ship of the same class. After locking her laser sight upon the impending Japanese leviathan, it wasn't long until her radio buzzed to life...

"Special delivery~!" The pilots tooted, "ETA 23-"

Two impacts tore into the Shogun Battleship, where a large explosion ripped it open a few seconds later. Nano-steel plating and embers were spewed in all directions, with some unexploded 400mm shells caught in the mixture. But seconds later, most of those munitions detonated, either in the water or, more frighteningly, in midair, with one of those shells exploding above a skirmish between some warriors and conscripts nearby.

"Comrade Natasha, that was a HUGE explosion. Was that another Shogun?" The Commander chimed in with utter surprise.

"Da."

"Well ... spasibo! That was a fast airstrike. I hope you-"

"Commander…!"

"Huh, what's wrong? Is everything alright?" He worrisomely uttered, finally sensing her dismay.

"Someone or something is destroying those ships, and it's not me."

"Don't kid yourself, Comrade Natasha. Those were-"

"That wasn't me."

"Well, it surely wasn't Avro- wait…"

"Da?"

"If it wasn't you or her, then..." He tried to deduce, but Dasha's frequency interrupted him, "Hold on a second."

Moments later, the intelligence officer frantically appeared, "Comrade Commander, you're not going to believe this!"

"Whoa, slow down, slow down, Comrade Dasha. What is it?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of you, as there was another 'Kamikaze' on the Vasilyevsky Island!"

"Where near or on it?"

"The Ordzhonikidze Shipyards."

"Another- wait a minute…! Do you see someone walking on water in that vicinity?"

"Uh, net. But if the 76th Air Army's reports are correct, those felt like 305mm shell impacts."

"305mm shells? But we don't have any artillery of that magnitude, and I seriously doubt that Avrora could cause that kind of damage."

"Da…"

"Well, do me a favour. Give me the records of all the ships that the Ordzhonikidze Shipyards built or repaired in the last 50 years. We had to have built something with 305mm guns."

Before her lips could open, Avrora chimed in with a meek voice, "Um, Comrade Dasha?"

"Hold on, Comrade Avrora. We're a little busy."

"I overheard that you and Comrade Commander were looking for a ship with 305mm guns. I believe I know who you're talking about."

"You do?" The Commander and Dasha asked in near unison, perplexed excitement abound in their voices, "What do you know?!"