Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear, as I am not Hideo Kojima. Or… am I? No, I am not.

As we last left Snake, he had ventured into the tanker Discovery, carrying the latest Metal Gear onboard. As he finished dispatching the guards in the ship's lounge with his kung fu, he glanced around. Pretty sweet place these Marines have. All those breakable bottles, and this ice. Man, it's suck if my adventures would take me from this really cool, highly detailed and interactive tanker to someplace lame, like a series of hexagonal rooms connected by bland orange bridges.

And so he continued throughout the ship, up one deck, dodging yet another surveillance camera, and up again, to the crew quarters. After taking out Faceless Guards 88 and 89, and dodging a laser tripwire/plastic explosive trap, Snake reached the bridge. Ignoring the dead marines, Snake set to work examining the navigation computer. Confirming the tanker's course, Snake called Otacon.

"Otacon… looks like the ship's heading for some random stretch of ocean far away from everything…"

"It must be going for solo testing, so it's fully armed and combat capable…"

"Please tell me they've still designed it so that there's some sort of inane fetch quest involved in activating it, okay? Because then the terrorists would have to do the whole 'room temperature, cold, and hot' thing, and it'll take them a while…"

"Nope, they just have to jump in the cockpit and start kicking ass."

"DAMN!" Noticing a figure outside the room, Snake ended his call…

Outside on the deck, the rather androgynous soldier was conversing over the radio in an thick Russian accent.

"Okay, ve haff isolated ze holds, taken command of communications, and set up C4 all over ze place."

On the other end of the line, yet another distinctly Russian voice rang out "Ze tanker iz ourz now. Shalashaska haz landed…"

"You know, I don't think ve can trust him…"

"Why? He is my old friend. I'm sure he wouldn't betray us like he did to Volgin, or the Director of Central Intelligence, or Liquid Znake, or ze United Ztates government, or…"

"And yet ve can still trust him?"

"Uh… Don't question me. Your part in this iz over."

"Papa! I vant to stay and help you hijack the ultimate weapon!"

"Look, I can zee the moon. It'z az pale az death. I haff a bad feeling about zis. You go home, and I'll stand right next to Backstabby Eastvoodovich…"

"I told you ve can't trust him…"

"It's just a nickname. Anyvayz, you are carrying my grandchild. Get out of here at vonce!" With that, the other speaker hung up.

"Damnit…" The androgynous Russian said.

"Freeze!" Our hero said, pointing his tranquilizer gun at his new opponent. "Okay… toss your gun overboard and put your hands up…" noticing his enemy's rather long armpit hair, he hastily added "…put 'em down! Put 'em down!"

"Zo… you Americans zhoot unarmed vomen az well?" the Russian soldier replied, removing her cap.

"…You're a woman?"

"Fuck you…"

"Who the hell are you people anyways? And why do you assault an indoor environment wearing orange an brown camouflage? And why do you have more hair under your arms than on your head? And how can I get this image out of my mind?"

"Ve are nomads… vanderers…"

"…Okay, just toss your knife overboard and put on a long sleeve shirt…" suddenly, the tanker jerked while the opponent held the knife over her head…

"Hmm… it ztopped raining… it'z not too zhabby, is it? New York, I mean." Suddenly, a bullet shot out from the end of the knife... and missed Snake by a mile.

"Scout knife with a trick… you're Spetsnaz? Man, either nepotism was involved or they really lowered their standards."

"No one's ever dodged that shot before…"

"Have you ever fired that shot before?"

"…no…" The Russian replied before pulling out a second handgun. The two began trading shots.

The Russian, (whose lifebar read "OLGA") began to monologue. "I've been on ze unit zince I waz born. I grew up on ze battlefield!"

"Yeah, well I've been with my unit since… well, since Otacon got bored and decided to start an anti-Metal Gear group! And I've scientifically confirmed that love can bloom on the battlefield. Who has the better résumé now, huh?"

Angrily, Olga shot out the ropes holding onto a tarp, hoping to distract Snake. Unfortunately, it came loose and flew into her face, leading her to accidentally stumble into a pile of crates. Frustrated, she ranted again… "Conflict and victory vere my parents! The unit iz my life, my family."

"Yeah, well the greatest soldier that ever lived was my parent, and I killed him. And my evil twin! So yeah, I don't have a family, but I'm still more badass than you!"

"Whoever you are, you're not stoppink uz!" Olga yelled, cartwheeling to the side and shooting a light fixture, hoping to blind Snake. But she had to look where she was aiming, so she left Snake to shoot out the light at his bulb at his leisure while she blindly ran into the wall.

"I haff no one… nothing except ze unit!"

"With your personality and skillset, I am not surprised…"

And so, the battle continued, until Snake finally subdued Olga. As she lay unconscious, Snake was unhappy to find that the reason she shot very sporadically wasn't because she was bad at her job; but because she was out of ammo. Suddenly, he glanced up, at a camera-bearing UAV. It clicked off a few snapshots before flying off…

"Otacon. They've got control of the ship. They're a wacky bunch. They suck just as bad as the Genome Soldiers, and their leadership arent exactly top notch either. Granted, Ocelot was also a Russian handgun wielder, but at least he had a cowboy gimmick. This lady was just bland."

"Snake, that old guy you photographed? He's Ocelot's old pal Sergei Gurlukovich."

"So, after the Shadow Moses thing failed, he still felt the need to get his hands on a mech? Jackass. By the way, I just saw Army-model Cypher…"

"So, the Army is spying on an ex-Fox-Hound member who's battling Russians over a Metal Gear built by the Marines to act independently of the Navy?"

"Let me guess… the plot just got a lot less simple?"

"Uh, Snake… remember when you thought this was a trap, and I said it wasn't, because I made sure the existence of Metal Gear was legit?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, actually… I didn't get this info on my own… It was kinda given to me by anonymous tip."

"…Anything else you haven't told me? Heart attack virus... you're being blackmailed… you're actually Liquid, who cheated death yet again, killed Otacon, and yet again assumed the identity of my best friend? Anything?"

"Hey. The sender of the tip used the same initials as my stepsister, E.E., whom I knew for only two years and haven't seen in a decade. I think that's plenty trustworthy. I admit, I might've messed up…"

"MIGHT'VE? You sent me aboard a tanker full of armed Marines, being hijacked by ex-Spetsnaz mercs, to take pictures of a giant killer robot! Because it's impossible for anyone to have the same initials as your sister! Christ, and I thought inventing the ultimate nuclear threat by accident was the craziest thing you did."

"Anyways, you have a real handgun now, so get to the cargo holds, where the heavily armed Russians are preparing to steal an unstoppable killing machine from equally heavily armed Marines.."

Sighing, our hero signed off, to continue his descent into idiocy…

Author's Note: Probably should've put this in the first chapter, but it's great to be back. Anyways, glad to see you guys still care about TIA, and I will endeavor to try to update more often. But as a side note, when I first started the original, I had weekly updates for quite some time before the delays started to kick in. (PROJECTED DATE OF COMPLETION: 2018)