Welcome to Memories II! While waiting for Helian's intel to be comfirmed and attempting to establish communications with M4A1, the Commander and Kalina have nothing else to do but recall memories of their past while the former contacts an old friend.
With Raid I spanning 10k words— a first for one of my stories, that took almost two weeks to do, but I feel that it went rather well, especially since it's almost entirely Doll-less with the exception of first-gen Sangvis from World War 3 and the friendly units were all human. Also, Ian finally has a 2012-prototype AK-12, so there's that.
Concerning M4A1, I feel like it'd be good if I actually cut out a mission or two, although I could consider Raid I to be 2-2 as that op was about saving a team of Griffin Dolls, and Raid I ended with a bunch of Griffin Dolls being saved, so that's that.
For US squad formations, the typical real-world squad as of 2020 has two fireteams consisting of a Team Leader, an MG guy (Automatic Rifleman,) a Grenadier, and a Rifleman, with both teams lead by a Squad Leader, who is typically a Staff Sergeant. For this fic's Russian squads, it's a mix of the Russian Federation's BTRs (Motorized Infantry Squads) and a US infantry squad, with the two fireteams of a US squad and a designated marksman like a BTR.
To Culture-Hunt3r, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and the question now is if others will wind up in a ship with Becker or if he stays with only Kalina.
And by the way, 21-24 degree weather in Florida fucking sucks.
Anyways, please enjoy the chapter!
Station 794, Sector 09
Ukraine, Neo-Soviet Union
July 11, 2062
Commander Ian Becker
The ride back to Station 794 was rather uneventful, doubly so when they were unable to find M4A1 again, and while the Commander had gotten over being put up front to die first in multiple breaches, Kalina was still glaring daggers at the Staff Sergeant who put him there the whole way back.
Now, though, as he reported his success to Helian via hologram while wearing his Griffin uniform again, he kind of wished he was back in the military truck with Igor Gruzinsky's squad.
"Hmm, around twenty or so smugglers eliminated by your forces, along with about ten first-generation Sangvis T-Dolls, and you recovered enough of our Dolls to staff an entire base, all done without any Griffin casualties..." the higher-ranked Griffin officer recalled, reading a digital version of his report.
"The Soviets suffered a couple minor casualties, though, especially PFC Vitsin, the poor lad." Ian added, remembering how unlucky the soldier in question was.
"Regardless, this was an admirable performance on your end, Commander, and since you contracted Commander Kamalov to help you out, I suppose he should get some credit as well."
"The op would have gone a lot differently without him running tactical for us. Oh, I got some more good news."
In response to the statement Helian raised a eyebrow, looking at him with an inquiring look on her face.
"What is it?"
"I saw M4A1, right before the operation began." he told her in response.
"You saw what? Can you confirm?"
"Affirmative. Dark brown hair with fair skin and matching eyes, green and grey outfit with a green armband and hairstripe, carrying a tan M4A1 with an EOTech, suppressor, and twenty-round mags, yeah, that's about everything I could remember without making it sound weird." he recalled, leaving out the fact that the gentle-faced T-Doll was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, human or not.
"That means she's still in the area." Helian suddenly said, looking at the map of the air raid shelter, placed thirty-five miles east of Station 794. "That narrows it down quite a lot, Commander, but what if Sangvis knows this, too?"
Hearing his superior's slightly-worried tone, he decided to reassure her.
"The Soviets kept guard in case our teams failed, and they confirmed that SF was completely absent from the AO. They also found a communicator she had on her that she dropped when the bullets started flying, and Kamalov had it sent to us."
To show that, Ian pulled the smartphone-like device out of a drawer in his desk and held it up to show his boss, who nodded to herself as she eyed the item in his hand.
"Phew. Speaking of M4A1, there's someone you need to talk to that knows her, but I'll give you some time to recover from your last mission before you do so." Helian told him, putting the report away. "Feel free to launch another operation if you need to."
"Understood, ma'am." the Commander told her, looking to his desk to notice a few pieces of paperwork on it, along with the two other contracts she gave him, printed out in physical form and stored in folders.
"Good. We'll see if we can get a lock on M4's location in the meantime. Helian out."
As the Sub-Director's hologram faded, Ian couldn't help but pump his fist up into the air in celebration of finally being brought into the AR Team mission, even if it wasn't explicitly said so.
"Kalina's gonna love this." he muttered, mindful to keep his voice down as he got to work on the paperwork on his desk, eager to get through it before it piled up on his desk and he had to spend hours on it, the thought of finally being able to find the AR Team and satiate his curiosity keeping him going.
Kalina
"Haah, feels good to get that thing off..."
After returning to the base and checking how many resources were used in the operation, Kalina wasted no time in retreating to her bedroom, in which she immediately tore her vest off, breathing easier without it constricting her chest. Next up was her helmet, which was dropped off next to her vest, and her boots, gloves, and holster followed soon after, landing in the same pile as the others.
With those out of the way she immediately pulled the hooded camo jacket off of her person along with her matching trousers, then as she pulled her sleeveless shirt off, someone knocked on the door, startling her thouroughly as the sweat-stained tank top went flying from her hands.
"W-who is it?!" she called out somewhat shakily, cheeks red.
"It's me, Ian. Did I get you at a bad time?" the Commander calmly replied through the other side of the door.
One look at her underwear-clad body told her the answer, and she quickly grabbed a white T-shirt from her closet and pulled it on before she went to the door.
"N-not at all, Komandir..." she told him as she opened the door, the first thing she saw being an amused look on his scarred face as he soaked in her frame, her long, slender legs on near-full display as she stood before him.
"Yeah, sure." he smirked, looking into her sapphire eyes. "Mind if I come in?"
Looking back into her room, the ginger pondered whether she'd grant him entry or not, eventually deciding on letting him in, stepping aside and letting him walk right on in, his eyes landing on her discarded military gear in the process.
"Wow, you must've ripped it off real quicklike." he chuckled in response to seeing it.
"Hey, it felt like I was wearing a door!" Kalina countered in protest as she sat down on her bed, crossing her legs.
"Heh, no arguement there, you just gotta get used to it."
Not saying anything to counter that claim she watched as the Commander's eyes flashed over the numerous pictures on her wall, some taken during childhood, some taken during her time in Griffin, and some hand-drawn, backing up her claims of being a skilled artist.
"Wow, you weren't kidding about being a talented artist." he commented as he picked up a hand-drawn portrait of M1911 and Grizzly, examining it closely. "When was this one drawn?"
"Uh, 2057, a year after Grizzly left the base." she replied after a moment. "I actually gave a copy to 1911 as a gift, but it was destroyed during the attack."
"Damn. This one?"
The Commander indicated a picture of herself in a park sitting next to a tabby cat, clad in casual wear and flashing a peace sign with a smile on her face, awaiting her reply.
"2060, just for fun. Took about an hour to complete it."
"You remember the time it took to finish?" he asked incredulously.
"When you spend most of your time keeping count of things, you wind up keeping track of weird things."
Nodding in understanding, the Commander's eyes darted to a work-in-progress drawing on her desk, gently rearranging the other papers on the desk so he could see it better, his arm obstructing the picture from view and making her get up so she could see it— a light blush dusting her face as she saw her unfinished picture of the rookie Commander himself, secured under the real version's gloved hand.
Blyat, he saw it before I finished it!
"Uh, are you sure you didn't idealize a couple parts of my face, because I do not look this good." he stated, a confused look on his face as he regarded the drawing.
Unsure of what to say the ginger immediately slid the paper out from under her boss' hand and stuffed it under the other papers on her desk.
"N-not at all, sir, you look like that normally...!" she said hurriedly as she did so, causing the Commander to look her way.
"And you're not joking about it...?"
The hesitant way he said it was so unlike the normally-direct war veteran that the ginger couldn't help but notice the change in his voice.
Is he self-conscious about his looks? That seems a bit wrong for someone like him...
"Nope. You're not the kind of guy a lady would fall head-over-heels for over just because he looked at her, but you're good-looking in a more... natural way." Kalina told him, looking him in the eyes. "Not to mention, I think you're the friendliest Commander we've had so far."
"Guess the war didn't take as much of a toll on me as I thought." he commented in response, taking his hand off of the desk and walking to the door when he seemingly remembered something. "Oh, if you want, we could try to call M4A1 with that communicator— God, I wish we could get a different name for it— we found during that op."
That sounded like a good idea to her, but when a gust of wind from her ceiling fan brushed against her bare legs and reminded her that she had to shower, she found herself reconsidering the offer.
"Maybe later, I need to get cleaned up first." the logistics officer told him instead, heading to her bathroom door and opening it. "Uh, I'll be there at 2:15 or 2:30."
"Okay, I'll see you then."
As he opened the door and left the room, Kalina couldn't help but let her eyes linger where he stood, a weird feeling twisting in her gut as she did so, as if she'd wanted him to stay for some reason— before she shrugged it off and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
Yeah, maybe that'll clear my head a bit.
Commander Ian Becker
The beginning guitar riffs of Kino's Calm Night (Спокойная ночь) rang through the Commander's office as he carefully examined the recovered comms device, noting its design's similarities to his old tacpad as he did so.
"Kryshi domov, drozhat pod thazhest'yu dney..."
The thing still turned on, at least, but Ian was frustrated to learn that it was encrypted and that he could not undo said encryptions.
"Nebesneyy pastukh, paset oblaka..."
And even if he could decrypt it, unless M4A1 left some kind of clue or something (which was unlikely for a spec-ops elite,) he had no way of finding her signal.
"Gorod strelyaet v noch' drob'yu ogney..."
This left him in a bit of pickle, as the only old tech specialist he knew at Station 794 was currently showering to clean up after that operation, and most of his Army buddies were dead.
"No noch' sil' ney, ee vlast velika..."
"Guess I'll just wait for Kalina to come back..." he muttered to himself, setting the phone-like device down on his desk and sighing.
"Tem' kto lozhitsya spat' - Spogoynaga sna..."
"Spokoynaya noch'..."
Now drumming his fingers on his near-empty desk in-tune with the song, he pondered what he could do while waiting for his adjutant to return, when his mind wandered to what he considered simpler times, back to the war that had such a massive impact of his life that it for whatever reason seemed incomplete without.
Berlin, Germany
2049
Sitting on the rooftops of a recently-retaken Reichstag, Private Ian Becker looked upon the expansive, smoke-filled skyline of Berlin, Germany as the United States Army and British Army ratted out whatever Neo-Soviet resistance remained in the city, causing him to reflect upon the sixteen-day-long battle he'd just helped fight and eventually win.
His M4A1, a weapon designed in 1992, was leaned beside him on a sandbag, likely requiring a very thorough cleaning after the sheer amount of rounds put through it but still managing to defeat the Soviets' new war machines despite its age, and his uniform reeked of mud, blood, coolants, and sweat, a testament to how hard the sixteen-year-old had fought to break the Soviet defenses and take the city back.
However, as he looked down below, where US and NATO forces were still recovering their dead and wounded, he began to wonder if it was worth it, if the lives they'd inevitably lose on the way to Moscow would be preventable—
'No, if we stop now, then we'll be handing the Soviet Union the entire world. We have to win this, no matter the cost!' he thought in his head as footsteps behind him caused him to turn around to see a red-haired teenage girl in uniform approaching him, her uniform and face as dirtied and bloodstained as his and her HK416 hanging off a sling. Furthermore, her helmet was off her head and hanging off her belt, allowing her normally silky red hair to be exposed to the elements, the bun that held it in place threatening to come loose thanks to fighting for sixteen days straight.
"Hey there, Soph." the worn-out soldier greeted softly, picking his old rifle up to give his fellow Rifleman a place to sit.
"Hey, Ian." Sophia Autumn greeted back, sitting down and setting her rifle down as she did so. "How're you doing? Holding up alright?" she then asked softly, looking at him with concern in her grey eyes.
"A little shaken-up, but I'm cool. Not every day you have to invade a country or nearly get killed by stripper‐bots wielding particle weapons." the Rifleman laughed in a hollow sort of way. "But hey, this is what we signed up for, right?"
Sophia simply nodded, looking outwards towards the Berlin skyline like he was, but with a hollowed, detached look he instantly recognized as a thousand-yard-stare. He was sure he had a similar expression, but to see it on someone like her was unsettling, to say the least, even with how much basic training and the war had toughened her up.
"And we've got a lot more of this to go through. Poland, Ukraine, maybe Belarus, and Russia herself." the redhead mused. "All those places, all those battlegrounds they've spent years familiarizing themselves with, and we've got to break through them one way or another."
He simply nodded in response, he cast his gaze to the burning, utterly leveled skyline of Berlin, briefly entertaining the thought of how they had taken the role of clearing out Berlin that the Soviets had once held, before he shook his head and thought about their current predicament.
"It's bad enough that Seth lost his eye and nearly everyone in our platoon has died, but are we even gonna have anyone left by the time we march upon Moscow? Will we ever live to see the fall of the Neo-Soviet Union?"
Looking at his gloved hands, one covered in bandages thanks to a very painful handshot from one of those Sangvis Ferri androids about nine days previously, he pondered his words heavily, unsure of what the future held for him and his squad.
"We will make it through this." Sophia told him, eyes filled with sudden determination. "Moscow will burn, and every last politician or officer who dictated the attacks on us and the rest of the world will die for what they've done."
He was taken aback by the older girl's words for a moment, by the sheer animosity and hatred in her normally-sweet voice, by the malice in the eyes that he'd mostly only seen fondness and sometimes sadness in, but when he thought about what she said, he found himself agreeing, as his personal creed, where a nation's government was the main planner of any atrocity committed by them while the soldiers or law enforcement were the executors, dictated the same response: if Neo-Sovietism was to be taken out of the Russian people, the politicians who brought it into play would have to be taken out of the equation first. At least, that's how he felt.
"Yeah, but how long will it take? Years? A decade?" he asked.
"However long it takes, I don't care, as long as you're alive to see the end of it."
"Even if you died?" he asked, wondering if his squadmate even valued her own life anymore.
"Yes. The Chinese killed my brother, and Dad died from ELID a year ago, so I have nothing to go back to, but you at least have a sister over there, even if she's MIA, and honestly, I don't care what happens to me anymore—"
Without thinking the soldier pulled his squadmate into a close embrace, ignoring the bulk of her gear as he held her close and quickly making his thoughts known.
"I won't allow it. You've still got me, and I'd rather blow my own brains out than let you die." Ian told her, feeling her shoulders slack beneath him. "You got that?"
Sophia nodded slowly, and the young soldier took that as a sign to let go of her, letting her sit up on her own again. Once again, their eyes were drawn down to the destroyed city below as a squad of American soldiers executed a group of unarmored Soviet soldiers, uncaring of their cries for mercy as their bullets tore through their enemies' flesh. It was technically a war crime, but given how many times the Geneva Convention had been broken in this damned war, they didn't feel compelled to report those soldiers.
'Three whole nations before we win this thing...' he thought idly. 'Am I even prepared for that?'
Looking back to his closest squadmate, he soon got his answer.
'Yes, you are, because this is what you chose for yourself. Sooner or later, you will win this thing, because I didn't raise a quitter.' the voice of his father told him, causing him to pick up his rifle and stand up.
"Where're you going?" Sophia asked when she saw him stand up.
"To get new orders. I'll see you soon."
Unheeding of his friend's questions about his plans, the soldier simply walked away, eager to leave the place the long-gone Nazi Party once called home.
As the memory concluded, a wave of disgust suddenly washed over the Commander, who immediately punched his desk and swore loudly in anger as the memories of the raid played in his head.
"Why?! Why did I have to do a job with the goddamn SOVIETS, the same motherfuckers who bombed our home and murdered my friends and family, of all people?! WHY?!" he yelled angrily.
Ignoring the pain that lanced through his hand, the dark-haired veteran simply slumped back in his chair, highly disappointed in himself for committing such a heinous act mere hours ago. He was a soldier of the United States Army, goddamn it! So why the fuck did he take a job for the Soviet Union when there were other people that could have genuinely used his aid?!
My dead squadmates must be rolling in their graves right now... he thought bitterly as he slumped back into his chair, the thought of his old friends causing him to think of a very alive squadmate of his, who sat literally two bases away from him and had been in service of the company for years.
Haah, guess I should give him a call, see if he remembers me...
Sitting up a bit straighter in his seat, Ian activated his projector and switched it to the call function, looking for Station 601's number in the contacts list and, after taking a deep breath to calm himself, calling the number.
Commander Shi Jun
Station 601, Sector 09
It was rather calm at Station 601, despite the current conflict with Sangvis Ferri. The paperwork was light, the Dolls weren't causing shit, and the recently-restaffed Station 794 was kicking Sangvis ass like nobody's business, leaving Commander Shi Jun of Station 601 with plenty of time to kill, which he did so in one of his favorite ways possible: reading old-world manga while playing J-rock in his otaku-fied office and leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk.
The man himself had jet-black hair in a military cut with thickish eyebrows and brownish eyes hidden by a pair of rectangle-lensed glasses, along with pale skin and a tall, fit frame befitting a soldier. His customary coat and beret were ditched for the moment, leaving him clad in a white button-up shirt and black tie with black pants and loafers.
All in all, while his appearance suggested a highly professional by-the-books officer, he was actually rather casual and laid-back at base, something his subordinates at the base loved and hated in equal measure, and without any work as of recent, he could fully embrace that part of him.
However, as he read his manga intently, his peace was immediately shattered by the ringing of his command screen's call function, causing him to sit up straight and put his manga away before looking at the caller ID: Station 794.
"Maybe it's Kalina, or the new guy." he said, his mind on the chipper (and attractive) ginger as he took the call— and promptly froze at the face that appeared on the screen.
Somewhat messy brown hair framed a scarred, slightly-rounded face while sharp green eyes analyzed the man before him, his slimmer frame covered by the maroon trench coat he himself had ditched with black gloves covering his hands and the Griffin beret sat on his head, the Big Red One pinned next to his green-and-yellow rookie badge next to his coat's left lapel.
No way, is it really him...?
"Holy shit, Ian, you're alive...?" he trailed off, causing the man on the other side to roll his eyes in such a familiar way it made him feel like it was 2049 again.
"Come on, of course I am." he told him, his voice a bit deeper than he remembered but still similar enough that he recognized it. "Last I checked, I was the one with plot armor."
A part of Shi Jun couldn't believe it, that his former subordinate during the Third World War was now his colleague, but at the same time, it made so much sense considering how ferocious the ex-Rifleman was on the battlefield, only seconded by Sophia.
"You have no idea how glad I am to see you, rook." he said, exhaling. "Shit, how long has it been, ten years?"
"Eleven, I counted." ex-Rifleman Ian Becker told him, direct as always. "Anyways, what's been up, Sarge? How'd you end up with Griffin?"
"First of all, Jack was the squad leader, not me, and second of all, it's a long story..."
"Then condense it, if possible."
At that prompt, he immediately thought back to his recruitment seven years prior— just as someone knocked on his office door.
"Uh, who is it?!" he called out.
"It's me, SASS."
"Alright, come on in!"
Having been given permission to enter, the door opened and a black-haired Doll with a teenager's body and a schoolgirl uniform with a jacket walked in, carrying a dish of food that was fortunately not made by a certain German Rifle Doll by the looks of it.
"That one of your girls?" Ian asked when he saw her.
"Yup." Shi Jun succinctly replied, accepting the dish from the Doll in question. "This is Super SASS, my preferred adjutant, and SASS, this is Ian Becker, my former squadmate and the new Commander of Station 794."
"Nice to meet you, Super SASS."
"Nice to meet you, too, Commander Becker." Super SASS greeted, waving at the other Commander. "Concerning my position as adjutant, it's actually a bit of a surprise, since I'm pretty sure my Commander's more into those 'big-titty-Onee-sama' Dolls."
To Shi Jun's annoyance, Ian laughed a bit at her words, fully aware of his tastes in women thanks to their service.
"He always was the most 'cultured' of our squad." he said, making air quotes at the word "cultured."
"Hey, at this point, it was valuable old-world history!" the Chinese-American defended himself. "Do you know what could have happened if it was lost for good?!"
"I dunno, and I highly doubt our CO saw it that way."
Throwing a dirty look at Super SASS, Shi Jun then decided to change topics.
"How'd you end up at Griffin?"
Ian made a thoughtful look, and was about to say something when someone burst into the room: a short, but curvy blonde girl with an American flag necktie.
"Uh, you wanna try knocking next time?" the dark-haired veteran asked dryly, causing the girl to chuckle bashfully.
"Sorry, Commander, but according to Kalina, we're getting some new Dolls sent here from that operation you did." she replied apologetically.
"It's fine. Oh, this is M1911, leader of 794's Echelon One and the first Doll I met from Griffin and Kryuger."
Seeing him on the other side of the screen, the now-identified M1911 waved in a friendly manner and smiled at them warmly.
"Nice to meet you two." she greeted them kindly.
"Nice to meet you. Now that that's out of the way, how'd you end up here again?" Shi Jun asked.
"Well... he—"
"Say anything about that, and you get logistics work and cleaning duty for a month." Ian threatened, giving the Doll a dirty look and making Shi Jun raise an eyebrow curiously.
"Okay, now you have to tell us what happened."
"I'm not saying a damn thing about that—!"
"Thanks to being on the run from Soviet authorities for eleven years, Commander Becker interrogated me at gunpoint and nearly shot me out of sheer paranoia, only to make himself look like a total ass after I talked some sense into him." M1911 told him with a shit-eating grin on her cute face.
After a moment of silence, Shi Jun and Super SASS suddenly broke into laughter, clutching their sides and wheezing from how hard they were laughing as they processed what the HG just told them.
"He did WHAT?!" Shi Jun managed to get out between laughs.
"Seriously?!'
"Oh, come on!" the Commander in question groaned, shooting his Doll a glare that could kill even a fully-geared up Soviet soldier. "I told you I'd make you do logistics for a month if you did that!"
The threat only made M1911 giggle mischievously.
"Then who would lead Echelon One? Nobody else has my experience, you know~" she pointed out with a lilted voice.
He noticed Ian's eyebrow twitch in annoyance as he stared her down, only to relent at the last moment.
"I— fuck, forget the logistics bit, but you're still getting cleaning duty off-mission— translation, you get to be G36's bitch for a month." he told her instead, scowling before returning to the screen. "Yeah, I do not have the commanding officer thing going on."
"You'll get used to it eventually." Shi Jun said sagely. "It'll take a bit, but you'll get used to it. One tip to keep note of: any time you wind up working with a police force, the military, or another PMC, you gotta make sure they know you mean business, and that you're not gonna let 'em boss you around. You're not a Rifleman anymore, you know."
In response the rookie Commander merely sighed and laid his head on the desk, something he recognized as a sign of mental fatigue.
"1911, can you leave the room, please?" he asked. "And can Super SASS do the same?"
As M1911 walked out of the room with a respectful nod, Shi Jun turned to Super SASS and wordlessly dismissed her, returning his attention back to his former subordinate as he lifted his head from the desk.
"What's the problem?" he asked.
"Long story, but I'll tell you what I can..."
Commander Ian Becker
Station 794, Sector 09
After spending a full fifteen minutes recalling the raid on the smugglers' den (while keeping the parts with M4A1 out of it), Ian watched as Shi Jun nodded his head in understanding, processing what he had just told him.
"So you're suffering a moral dillemna?" the older Commander asked.
"More than just a moral dillemna. Shi Jun, I just helped the Neo-Soviet Union recover a rather large amount of military gear. Do you have any idea how much of a slap in the face that is to everyone who fought them? To Sophia, or Matheson, or Jordan?"
Looking at a framed photo of his squad— which he'd taken great care to keep on him— the ex-soldier felt another wave of regret as he looked at the smiling or grinning faces of each soldier present in the photo. From Jack's more mischievous grin as he toyed with Laura's light brown hair to her own somewhat forced one as she endured the teasing to Sophia's warm, almost motherly smile to a clean-shaven Matheson's simple smirk and his own broad grin and victory sign, along with Shi Jun's relaxed posture to a one-eyed Seth sitting next to a cocky Jordan as he messed with his SCAR-H, he felt nothing but betrayal for working with the same nation those same people fought— or gave their lives to stop, in a few cases.
"Hey, piece of advice: don't think about it too much." Shi Jun said, cutting his thoughts off with his advice. "Things have changed, and with how bad shit is pretty much anywhere thanks to the Collapse Radiation, I highly doubt the Soviets would wanna go after us again— barring potential ultranationalist groups, of course— and I'm also sure the others wouldn't think it a slap to their faces if you helped them with one little job."
"But still—"
"Didn't I just tell you to stop thinking about it? You've got enough on your plate dealing with Sangvis Ferri, and according to some of my girls, there's apparently some kind of spec-ops Dolls that need saving, so you gotta get your shit straight. Hell, after the whole Sangvis thing's over you could go home, do some good over there, or hell, go find your sister."
The mentions of the AR Team and the Griffin/Sangvis conflict were enough to make him remember what was at stake, as well as why he was sent to Station 794: to halt Sangvis Ferri's advance in the Neo-Soviet Union and ensure that they never reach American soil. And in the end, so what if he helped a single Soviet officer reacquire some gear from scavengers that weren't even American, as long as Griffin could still wage war against Sangvis Ferri?
"You're right, I've got bigger fish to fry." he relented. "Speaking of, how do you know about that, the spec-ops team?"
"Just rumors, talking about their ability to operate without a Commander or being utterly ruthless and using Griffin Dolls they encounter as pawns for whatever mission they're on, but that could just be regulation they have to follow."
Based on Skorpion's opinion of M4A1, as well as what he'd seen of her (which was admittedly not that much, but with Dolls it was easier by design to gauge one's character by looks) he found himself agreeing with the Station 601 Commander.
"The latter's probably why, since the leader seemed a bit too pure to be on a battlefield." Ian mused.
"You saw one of 'em?" Shi Jun asked curiously, causing the rookie Commander to swear loudly.
"Shit, that was classified, but yeah, I saw her on the op I just did, but she left before I could talk to her. Don't tell Helian I told you this, though, or she'll skin me alive."
"She tell you to call her that, too?"
"Yeah, for 'efficiency's sake.'" Ian chuckled, making air quotes at the "efficiency's sake" part.
"Course she did, but back to the elephant in the room, you have any idea where she could be?"
"No, but she dropped a comms device of sorts. Although, if you see a Doll that looks like this, tell me immediately and try to hail her if you can."
Going through his archived footage, he found his helmet-cam footage from the recently-conducted raid and found the bit with M4A1, pausing when her lithe frame was most easily visible and showing Shi Jun the paused screen afterwards.
"Is that an M4?" he asked as he examined the screen.
"Yup. I dunno why she has a 20 round mag in her gun, but otherwise I don't think IOP could have chosen a better Doll to represent the M4."
"Huh. Anyways, if I see her, I'll let you know."
"Thanks, I appreciate it." Ian told him, just as someone knocked on his door, causing him to turn around to confront them. "Who is it?"
"It's Kalina!" a familiar Slavic-accented voice replied. "I was hoping we could take a crack at that communicator!"
I reiterate, I absolutely hate calling it a communicator. Too basic.
After seeing Shi Jun's eyebrow go up in questioning, Ian simply shrugged and granted Kalina permission to enter the office, something she did rather chipperly, clad in her usual outfit as opposed to her military gear, her shirt unbuttoned a bit too low as usual.
"Oh, privyet, Komandir Shi Jun!" she greeted upon seeing the senior Commander, giving a little wave.
"Good to see you, Kalina." said senior Commander said back. "By the way Ian, I'mma go ahead and say that you are one lucky bastard to have her in your roster."
Looking back at his logistics officer, Ian couldn't help but agree with his former fireteam leader in multiple regards.
"Yeah, I guess I am. Oh, uh, as much as I'd love to talk with you some more, I've got stuff to do."
"Super secret stuff, right? I understand. Uh, good luck, and I'll see you soon, I guess..."
"Thanks, Before I go, have you seen any of the others?"
"No, but I saw somewhere that Seth made it to safety somewhere."
"Damn. Thanks anyways, Ian out."
Ending the call, the rookie Commander couldn't help but grin despite the news Shi Jun dropped as he turned to his adjutant.
"He actually remembered me, Kalina. Do you know how much that means to me?" he told her, glad that at least one part of his old life stayed the same.
"Well, he's part of your old unit, is he not?" the ginger asked.
"Yeah, and the fact that he actually remembered me after all these years, it's just— hoo, I think I'm getting ahead of myself, so uh, let's just get this thing cracked open and see what happens next?" Ian asked, picking up the comms device.
Kalina simply nodded, and after turning it on the two got to work on decrypting it.
Tactical Doll M4A1
Ukrainian Wilderness, Two Hours Later...
Crouched under a tree in the dense Ukrainian wilderness, a certain dark-haired elite operative carefully stalked a Sangvis Scout that was flying overhead, her trusted carbine trained ahead of the drone as she lead her upcoming shot, exhaling softly in perparation.
Then, two trigger pulls later, and the Scout went down without too much damage done to its chassis or internals, hittingnthe grassy ground with a thump.
Satisfied with her shooting she took a quick check around the environment, making sure no hostiles were present before she made her way to the downed Scout, pulling knife out of a sheath before crouching beside it. With careful motions she pried off a piece of its admittedly weak armor and then cut a hole into its chassis itself, revealing numerous wires and a boxy-looking CPU about the size of her hand— the item bearing a transmitter so the drone could recieve orders from afar.
There...
A few surgical cuts later, and the CPU was in her hands and ready to serve as her lost comms device's replacement, with some wires plugging it into her neck as she tried to call out.
"M16, SOPII, AR-15, this is M4A1, please respond..." she said into the channel she'd opened, only to hear silence.
"This is M4A1, please, respond..." she said again.
More silence.
"If anyone can hear me, please respond!" she pleaded the next time, clutching the grey CPU in her hands desperately.
Once again, only silence answered her, and fear began to settle in her as she imagined the thought of her beloved sisters being tortured at the hands of the enemy, their Neural Clouds being subjected to unimaginable pain and torment as they desperately tried to keep her wheeabouts a secret—
Suddenly, an unknown voice rang out, her fearful thoughts preventing her from hearing it, and without any knowledge of who it was, she blurted out a quick hurried response as she tried to get herself under control.
"H-hello, who is this?!" she squeaked, causing a masculine, unaccented voice to chuckle on the other end.
"Wow, did I catch you in a private moment or something?" the speaker asked with a chuckle, and M4A1's Neural Cloud immediately began searching for a match to the voice.
"No, not at all!"
Whoever this is, he certainly isn't Sangvis...
"Umm, who is this?" she asked more calmly, eyes darting left and right of her to search for hostiles.
"Commander Ian Becker, Griffin and Kryuger PMC."
Sorry about the cheap cliffhanger, but I'm on a tight schedule, and I'm in a bit of a bumrush to get this done before the New Year.
Anyways, I think I did pretty good with the Berlin flashback, and I hope I did Shi Jun justice, but as for the future of the story, I think I have a good plan for it.
I'll see you at Chapter 23!