AK-74M considered herself a patient woman, as a rule. She put up with many things, both personal and professional, and when compared to her peers, she thought she took the abuse well.

That did not mean that her patience allowed her to endure infinite abuse, as M16 seemed to be realizing. The drunk came looking for her, wanting to swap stories, and drinks, which 74M considered more than acceptable. Of all the louder Dolls on base, 74M considered her old 'friend' to be the best company as at least M16 understood when to shut her mouth, and if nothing else, talking about the past consumed time while Dahlia finished up her actual work.

What that plan did not account for was interruptions from others. While 74M knew that there were other Dolls on the base, being unable to miss the verbal thrashing PPD-40 had been giving the Sector 14 Dolls, she'd intended to stay well away from them. With Groza and FAL off base altogether, SV-98 withdrew to do her thing, and the Belgian group scattered, making that an easy idea, at least until the other guest decided to make herself known. And thus, 74M's quiet afternoon insulting M16 and generally doing nothing turned into an exercise in patiently tolerating insults from a very angry Finnish woman who, from what 74M could tell, wanted to shove a rusted spoon through her eye-sockets.

"Don't just sit there and act all high and might you Soviet-" The screed had been going on for a while by this point, and as 74M finally ran out of Vodka, she turned her attention to Suomi in full, mustering up her best 'I can kill you, your family and nobody would question me' glare. To Suomi's credit she only flinched a little, but it achieved the goal of silencing her.

"Been a while since I saw that glare." Despite the flippant tone, M16 tensed, subtly trying to put herself between the two of them, before violence broke out. "Think it was when I called vodka potato water?"

Keeping her gaze on Suomi, 74M answered M16 with her best disinterested drawl. "That was the first yes." The casual exchange only seemed to wind up her antagonist more if the reddening face and bared teeth were any indication. "If you are looking for a fight, I suggest you go elsewhere." If it came to violence, unlike SV-98, there would be blood.

"I think I'm right where I want to be." The shorter doll stepped up and shoving M16 aside, glare now in full force. "You go parading around that-" A jab at 74M's shoulder, and her unit badge as if it were to be an explanation, when the list of people who could have a problem with her for that was longer than Suomi was tall. The building headache only grew. "Like you don't know what you did?"

"To Finland? No, I'm afraid I don't." 74M shook her head. Only a bit of a blatant lie, given that she'd killed more than a few dissidents in the former Finish territories, but during the war, 74M had not been on that front, nor, she was confident, had any of her unit.

Denial could not be called the right answer. "Don't you try and-"

"I realize you see us as a great red bear, inflicting terrible pain on your nation. We are not, in fact, so monolithic, and just because I wear this patch does not mean that I know everything done by everyone wearing it, nor might I know what was done by those wearing it after I left." All of her willpower went into not choosing violence in that moment and damning the consequences. Knowing it would deeply upset Dahlia made restraint easier. Nonetheless, a small part of her wanted to prove Suomi entirely right. "I am well aware that there are those who did less than savory things-"

"You call war crimes less than savory-"

74M cut her off in turn, "But I am not them, and I would appreciate," the word proved more venomous than originally intended, and M161 moved to put herself between them again. "If you extended the basic courtesy of not lumping me in with them without cause."

"Like you extended the basic courtesy of not-"

M16's fully stepped between them, cutting off the undoubtedly nasty accusation. Unable to fully see Suomi, 74M couldn't tell for sure but she doubted the Finn appreciated the interruption. "You're taking her side?"

"I'm not taking any side, I'd just rather not find out what actually happens when that one," M16 jabbed a finger over her shoulder at 74M, "Decides to take that knife that, and do something violent with it."

"Let her." Suomi hissed the words, and 74M lost her battle with a sigh. She'd known plenty of people with a death wish, but straight up challenging someone who you openly knew to be part of a unit that did the things she'd done to come at you with a knife had to take the crown of either stupidity or bravery.

"I'll pass. Go bother SV-98 if you want a fight." That might prove amusing, if short lived. SV-98 would probably lose the fistfight, but she'd make a good try of it. "I have better things to do than be accused of war crimes or whatever else, by some bitter girl who refuses to live in the present." The jab probably wasn't called for, but her patience had mostly run out by this point, and thus, 74M considered civility to be long sense exhausting.

"Figures a vatnik wouldn't want to admit-" Whatever Suomi wanted to say, it was cut off by a fist to the jaw, sending her spinning, and sprawling to the ground. 74M blinked, her own spiraling anger cut off by the sudden violent act from the otherwise laid-back doll. M16's demeanor stood at such a stark contrast to the usual solution of an infantryman that it took 74M almost as long as Suomi to work out what happened.

"Leave." A command, one that felt uncharacteristic of M16 as she now comported herself. Suomi's lips drew into a snarl, scrambling back to her feet, still ready to fight. "KSG seems willing to put up with your crap, but the rest of us aren't so keen on it."

"You-" Suomi cut herself off, glancing between the two of them, then sneering at 74M. "Fine. You can hide behind her." Her piece said, the smaller Doll spun and stormed off.

Several seconds passed, both of them watching her leave. In the end, 74M broke the silence, as it became clear that one of M16's now signature quips was not coming. "You did not have to step in."

M16 glanced over her shoulder, eye swirling with a still burning anger, much greater than 74M's own. "I'm not going to let someone say that shit about a friend." Now that, by itself, was surprising to hear M16 say, although perhaps that shouldn't have been. Or maybe 74M's idea of friendship needed revision. "Not sure why you'd put up with that much of it."

"Because I've been called worse, and there's people who'd be more than a little annoyed if I were to pull my knife." M16's chuckle came out slightly forced, and they left it at that.

-Faded Glory-

"Come on!" On the best of days, SOPMOD's over-enthused attempts to drag AR-15 to see one of her 'creations' could be called endearing. Today, the extra insistence, and timing made it far more annoying, and the refusal to listen to objections did not help. AR-15 only got the first word of a question, never mind her objections out before she'd been grabbed and bodily dragged across the base only barely able to stay on her feet most of the time.

"You haven't even told me what you're taking me to see!" She managed to get the words out, which did not slow down SOPMOD at all.

"You'll really like it." Her sister insisted, which, frankly, did not help in the least.

"It's easier to know if I'll like something if I know what it is." Probably something jury rigged, or explosive. From the excitement, AR-15 guessed explosives would be involved in whatever this was, but she couldn't prove that right away. If nothing else, humoring SOPMOD would make this torment end faster and let her go back to doing something productive.

"SOPMOD?" AR-57 was waiting for them at the door of the armory. "I know you said you wanted to show your sister, but I don't think kidnapping is how to do that."

"Thank you." AR-15 grumbled, glad that someone was finally interested in her feelings about this entire situation. "Do you know what she's so excited about?"

"Rifle grenades." That took AR-15 a moment to parse, as a concept that she understood, roughly, but also didn't make any sense at all. "And before you ask why, because sometimes those of you without under barrels will need more oomph than a rifle and aren't going to be able to use regular grenades." AR-57 rolled her shoulders, head cocking in thought. "Not you, maybe, since you've got her," A nod to SOPMOD, "but Groza, say." A grimace. "'Course, trying to design a mounting clip to use the things is going to be a pain in the dick, but I'll figure that out later."

"Right." AR-15 looked between the duo with every growing skepticism, this entire thing sounding more and more insane by the second. "None of this is explaining why I'm here."

"Because you're a grumpy pain in the ass who I can entirely believe will give reliable feedback?" AR-57's answer rolled off her tongue with all the surety of preparation. "We're asking other people too, but you're a good pick out of the 'not a soldier' crowd."

AR-15 stiffened at that implication before realizing that no, AR-57 didn't mean it as an insult, she was just stating the insulting fact. "You do understand there isn't a way for my gun to use a rifle grenade?"

"Thought of that." AR-57 waved a hand. "Well, she did." A nod to SOPMOD, who bounced along ahead of them, mercifully letting AR-15 walk under her own power again. "You do realize there is a massive market for guns, gun parts, and anything related to self-defense."

AR-15 didn't comment on that, still trying to parse out the point of any to this, and her presence here, and realizing quickly that she'd lose whatever argument she tried to make right now. The duo led her into what passed for a workshop between them, filled with half created things, SOPMOD's rifle, AR-15's rifle missing her suppressor, and AR-57's gun, which was torn entirely apart, and appeared to be mid cleaning…or maybe mid rebuild.

"SOP." While on their own, the four of them often let SOPMOD poke and prod their weapons, AR-15 really didn't appreciate her sister letting anyone else do it.

"I didn't touch your fancy parts." SOP grumbled, giving AR-15 a bit of a glare. Even if AR-15 could see that, picking up her weapon and turning it over in her hands, she still didn't appreciate other people messing with her stuff.

"While I've got you, why the shit are you using .300?" AR-15 instinctively caught the mag thrown at her head, answering with the harshest glare she could muster, both the projectile and the question. "Better to use 5.56 like the rest, isn't it? Interoperability and all that crap?"

"That's what M16 keeps telling her." SOPMOD picked up a rather awkward looking blob of metal, which could only be the creation in question.

"I'm right here." Despite her effort to sound aloof, AR-15 knew her words came out as a growl.

"Sure." AR-57 didn't seem fussed by that. "But you're also using the weirdest DMR I've probably ever seen, between the weird ammo, scope, and tricked out gun." The armorer gestured for them to follow, and kept right on going. "Only person I've met with a weirder kit than yours is that Super SASS girl, and that's just because some random Griffin Doll with a kit that expensive doesn't make any sense. Least your obviously from somewhere with the budget to trick you out in weird calibers, optics for hunting planes or something, and the latest and greatest other bits, but you're also from someplace that should be bright enough to give you gear that isn't counterproductive to your job."

"Do you do anything but talk crap?" AR-15 accepted the hopefully inert grenade from SOPMOD, fixing it to her weapon with a critical eye. She'd give them the credit of making something easy to use, even at a glance. The weapon balance felt extremely strange, as she moved it around, which didn't help. With a bit of effort she removed it.

"Make those things, make sure your gun works, make sure Kalina buys you bullets, various other odds and ends." AR-57 ticked it off absently. "We'll need to test that thing." And, before AR-15 could object she found herself yet again being dragged out of the room and to the range.

They obviously prepared for this, with a set of targets at a good distance out, technically beyond the base perimeter, not that such a thing ever meant much. AR-15 spent the walk being bombarded with stats, and math about how this new thing worked, including that no, she couldn't use standard bullets with them right now because apparently these two lunatics were planning to make more that didn't have that problem.

"You seriously want me to shoot this thing." AR-15 looked between her sister, whose head might well have fallen off from the excited nodding, and AR-57 who at least pretended to be more serious about it.

The other pink hair doll managed to inspire a little more confidence, with the statement, "If it makes you feel better, we know they work."

"Thanks." She didn't try and not make it sound sarcastic, remounting the grenade, bringing the weapon to her shoulder, taking an approximate angle, and after bracing herself, fired. It kicked a lot harder than she expected, the small object arcing to thump down, right between all the targets. "Huh." AR-15 expected to miss, given that she didn't have any experience with it.

AR-57 hummed, nodding along for a moment. "Thoughts?"

"Seems stupid." AR-15 examined her gun for issues. "Not too hard to use, but the AR team has SOPMOD, we don't need more of her. One is dangerous enough."

"Like I said, not useful for you, but useful for others." AR-57 repeated, crossing her arms under her bust. "Surprised you didn't think it kicked hard, without any padding or armor on." AR-15 twitched. "I think that's enough testing for now, we can go to the Commander about these."

SOP cheered, all but tackling AR-15 in her excitement, and, before the sniper could manage to respond, already bounded off, doubtless to tell their other sisters. That left her alone with AR-57, and AR-15 desperately wanted to be out of the situation, offering her gun for the armorer to deal with, so she could run.

"You ever want me to do this up into something that's actually going to help you in a fight, lemme know." AR-57 uncrossed her arms. "Upside to your gun, is you can do pretty much whatever you want to it, if you know what you're doing."

"And I'm expecting you to know that?" AR-15 arched a brow.

"In case you forget, I tinker with my own gun all the time and it's made on that platform." AR-57 jabbed a finger at AR-15's weapon. "It'd probably take a while to get parts though, last time I had to replace something it took a month just to get the parts."

"I'll take that under advisement." She would not, and from the look, AR-57 knew it.

"Sure." A wave. "Later."

-Faded Glory-

M4 looked around the table, from FAL and Groza, who were curled together altogether more relaxed after their time away, to KSG, arms crossed and deep in thought, then finally to Kalina, unsurprisingly engrossed in a tablet of information.

"This was your idea." FAL nodded to KSG, signaling the informal start to their informal meeting. The response from KSG turned out to be a deep huff.

"Opinions on that talk we overheard the Commander having?" As KSG started talking, Kalina looked up, setting down her tablet, getting looks from the others. "I gave Kalina a bit of an overview, which is why she's here."

"I didn't realize the guy actually had friends." Kalina's words drew smiles from FAL and Groza. "He's kinda intense, and never seems to talk about anyone outside of Griffin, or even about people from the war. Always thought that was a bit weird, but-."

"The phrase is, 'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you', I believe." FAL chimed in. "But Kalina is right, that seemed like an actually friendly chat, and with someone fairly high up in Griffin."

"I've wondered about that one." Kalina glanced at FAL briefly. "The wording is just weird. Far as I know, deployment assignments are handled at the top, so the list of potential options for who he was talking to is fairly short."

"What stands out to me," Groza murmured, "Is the Commander referenced that very thing, as if it were all organized well ahead of time, and for that matter, to be the person who convinced him into Griffin." Pausing to let someone interject Groza then kept going. "Combined with the idea of the person being responsible for who gets deployed where at the Sector Command level, I think it only makes sense to be Mr. Kryuger, does it not?"

That hung over their heads for a while. "I'd wager most of my salary he was." KSG found her voice first. "It feels like too much of that information would only be known by Kryuger, or someone working closely with him."

"They must have known each other for a long time." M4 flushed as all attention turned to her, but kept her voice steady. "They're talking about things from years ago, right?"

"The attempted bombing in Lviv." Groza picked up what she was thinking about. "That does raise the question, why would the Commander have been part of that mess, when he was supposedly working for the Germans?"

"Germans could have sent him." M4 didn't think that made sense, but KSG sounded quite confident. "If they knew something, sending someone who's used to that high-speed nonsense would be the reasonable move. Nobody wanted more bombings, or another war."

"Germans would have pushed us into a fire sooner than pulled us out of one." Groza countered, a small bit of amusement pulling at her lips as she did.

"Average Germans, sure." A nod from KSG yielded to Groza's point. "But the government knew well enough they couldn't win a second round, with the French and Brits beaten to hell, and the Americans still recovering from our own issues, so they'd try to do something to avoid having a Collapse Bomb go off, and kickstart another mess."

"If we take that to be true, it still leaves plenty of questions." FAL picked up the thread. "Including just what his relationship with Kryuger would be, and what it may, or may not mean."

"As M4 noted, quite friendly based on what we heard" KSG slumped back. "They're taking stabs at each other as friends, and you don't fake that kind of conversation without a lot of planning, and practice, neither of which should seem likely in this context." Pausing again for refutation, KSG forged ahead when none came. "Before we get too far ahead, it is possible we are guessing incorrectly. He never actually named Kryuger, thinking about it, and he is that sort of bastard."

"For all this faults, I don't think the Commander wants to give the idea that he's here for any reason other than being hired and assigned here." For the first time, Kalina broke into the conversation. "In the same way, I don't think that he'd pull off something like what you're suggesting. I'm not even sure if he'd talk about his past at all where we can hear it." M4 could see them nodding along.

"He's got a weird thing about being judged on his merits, even if those merits are him being a jackass." Groza's dry tone seemed to undermine the halfway compliment that started her statement. "Seems surprisingly okay with us thinking he's a jackass too."

"I'm not sure he's okay with it." Shaking her head, KSG cut in. "My guess is that he minds, in some abstract sense of minding, but more that his idea of himself is that he's a jackass, and if that's how we see him, then that's how he is, and we have a feedback loop of jackass." A beat. "Or something like that."

M4 couldn't help but giggle, something about the deadpan delivery and absurd topic breaking the serious tone of the meeting entirely. Even so, it didn't really make a lot of sense. "So…what does that mean?"

"That we're working for an idiot?" KSG bounced her shoulders in what might have been a shrug, or just a weird twitch.

"With more experience around him, he…" Groza stumbled. "I won't say that I'd trust him entirely, but we are at some sort of mutual understanding."

"Whatever our trust in him, he trusts us." FAL pointed out. "That entire mess," A gesture, "Hinged entirely on him trusting us to solve a problem without any input or guidance. And then, more importantly, to act in the required way after." Her eyes bored into KSG with enough weight to make M4 uncomfortable despite only being an observer. "And he was going around bugging everyone after as well."

"Mmm." Nothing visibly told M4 that FAL landed in dangerous territory, but everything about how KSG's eyes narrowed, her back straightened and what little hint of emotion in her face vanished screamed they were walking into dangerous waters. From how FAL shifted on Groza's shoulder M4 got the feeling she realized it as well. "Whatever else he is, the man's good at keeping a finger to the pulse of his subordinates."

"He is." FAL conceded, eyes drifting between them for a while. Her eyes lingered on M4 last, holding her in place. "Speaking of what on earth did he ask you?"

"Huh?" The question took M4 aback, instinctually shrinking into herself at the intention.

"We've all noticed you being lost in thought." Groza picked it up, glancing at her girlfriend. "FAL thinks it was something the Commander said."

"Groza's of the opinion one of your sisters put her foot in it. That one," FAL pointed at KSG, "Hasn't submitted a guess yet, and I'm not going to try and guess what goes on in her head."

KSG rolled her eyes. "For my part, I don't think it matters." That felt like a rebuke. "It is between her and her sisters, and thus, is not my problem."

"How do you…" M4 trailed off. She wasn't sure she wanted to get that answer, swallowing her words.

KSG's stare remained piercing, holding M4 in place for a few seconds, then she turned away again. "We're getting away from the point."

"I don't think it changes anything for now." Measured words made sense for Groza. "Whether he is friends with Kryuger or not, the man seems entirely intent on keeping that aspect of himself separate, much as he does his private life. We barely know anything about him outside of this context, even accounting for everything he knows about us."

"For all of the things he could be, he is by far the least bad." FAL confirmed.

"He's a good boss, doesn't ask too much, and agrees that our life sucks." Kalina flashed them a thumbs up. "Better than most people I've worked with. Lena and Aleksander like him well enough."

"He is perversely likable." That, M4 thought, was entirely a concession, and not a compliment from KSG.

"I don't think he's too bad." Throwing out her opinion, M4 shrank back into herself, not wanting to elaborate on something that she felt entirely as, well, a feeling. Luckily, all of them appeared to be operating on those same feelings and left it alone.

-Faded Glory-

"Something's buggin' you." M16 plopped into the seat next to M4, whiskey bottle in hand. Waving off the offer of drink, M4 tried to muster a chiding look without success. "Oh come on. Heavy stuff's better with a drink."

M4 could see the point, but she didn't let herself get drunk like M16 did, so that didn't help her much. "Thinking."

"Doing a lot of that." Despite the lighter tone, M4 could see the shift as M16 got more serious. "STAR running her mouth again."

"No. Yes. I don't know." M4's thoughts were muddled and sorting them out was something she wanted to do before M16 came wanting to talk. "It's all confusing." M16 gestured with her drink, obviously wanting M4 to go on. Without an easy out, M4, went for the thing that impacted her personally the least. "You've never talked about knowing 74M?"

M16 grunted, obviously not impressed by the deflecting question. "We were together before a mission, and after she pulled a knife on me for calling vodka potato water, we got along okay." M4 wanted to say she couldn't imagine the standoffish doll pulling a knife on her sister, but then she thought about the fighting a few days before. In that fighting, 74M remained the same, a cold, ruthless soldier. Yet, M4 could imagine her pulling a knife on someone if she thought it'd be the easiest solution to a problem. "She got transferred out, apparently by order from on high before op went off, hadn't seen her since."

That answered M4's question, but only created new ones. "And you punched Suomi for her."

"I'd rather not find out if someone I consider a friend is also capable of doing a war crime to the racist Finn." M16 looked over the lip of her bottle, not quite smiling, but not quite frowning either. "Also, she's talking shit." M16 took another swing, as M4 tried to parse the actual meaning of her sister's words. "Someone giving you crap about it?"

M4 shook her head, finding that to be the oddest part of the entire situation. "Desert Eagle said to tell you good job, and KSG seemed to approve, if a smirk and a grunt counts as approval."

"Huh." Good eye blinking, M16 put her drink down. "Didn't expect that. Figured KSG'd just ignore it, being her girlfriend's sister and all. Rest of 'em, huh."

"She doesn't get along with Suomi." M4 knew that for sure, even if she didn't completely understand the history there. "When we found SOPMOD, they had a bit of an argument about….Suomi being a bigot".

"That's right." M16 bobbed her head. "Well, guess that's good to know, but don't think you're getting out of answering the question." M4 mentally cursed her luck. She'd hoped that would at least keep M16 sidetracked for a few minutes. "What's got you thinking? I know SOP and STAR are off with one of SOP's crazy projects, but normally you don't just sit here staring in thought."

"They're confusing." M4 started there. This felt like the easiest starting point.

"Most people are confusing." M16 pointed out, offering the bottle again, and M4 refused. "Humans are good for that. Dolls aren't much better. Need a bit more to go on than that."

"They have a shared experience, right?" M4 paused, to gather her thoughts, then settled for letting it all spill out at once. "A whole war happened before I even existed, and all I have is training and you."

"If they're giving you shit-"

"No!" M4 shook her head. "They're all nice, and helpful, and ask my opinion, and it all feels pointless."

"Because they're veteran soldiers, and you're just some newbie?" M16 leaned forwards, as M4 nodded. "Way, I see it, you've got two options. Either they want an opinion that isn't from a grumpy old soldier and you fit that bill, or they think you've got something to add to the conversation. Neither of those is a bad thing."

"Maybe." M4 sighed. While M16's words made sense, she couldn't say they soothed her vague worries.

"Seriously, don't beat yourself up about them." M16 insisted. "They're probably as unsure how to handle things as you are, and are making it up as they go." M4 blinked, opening her mouth to refute that, before stopping again. "They're all kinda similar so they can figure out how to get along with each other, but those of us who aren't like them, I think we confuse them." She picked up her bottle again. "I'd consider 74M a friend, but damn if she isn't a total alien sometimes."

M4 didn't exactly know what to make of that. She couldn't argue the point, AK74M did seem like an alien at times, with her stoic nature, a standout even amongst a group of stoic, hard to read people. "I think she likes it that way."

"Oh, she absolutely likes it that way." M16 gave M4 a sideways look. "First thing to realize about that one, she's always up to something, even if you never know what it is. Then again, that applies to a lot of people around here."

Part of M4 wanted to ask who else M16 included in that list, just to see if it matched her own list, but she kept that to herself. "Do you wish we didn't stay?"

"Nah." M16 shook her head. "Here's pretty good. Commander isn't a prick, we've got help, nobody asks weird stuff…it's a pretty good deal."

"They also don't make you justify your whisky habit." M4 pointed out, getting only a shrug and a smirk in reply, and they both devolved into giggles, the tension finally broken.

-Faded Glory-

"You don't like giving easy jobs, do you, Commander?" Kalina and Fleur managed to corner the man in his office after almost three days of trying. If Kalina didn't know better, she'd think that he'd been avoiding them on purpose, but she knew enough to know it truly was just the result of debriefings, reports, and the man needing to sleep sometimes actually.

"If they were easy, I'd do them myself." The counter came with faint amusement, and in Kalina's opinion not nearly enough sympathy. "Although in this case, elaboration may be required, as I've handed out a few tasks that were not easy over the weeks, and meetings mean that I haven't been able to keep track of the goings on as I normally might."

"Hunting down this Seir person." Dropping a stack of papers several inches thick on the only unoccupied bit of desk in reach in time with her words, Fleur all but flopped into the chair. Kalina opted for more restraint, topping the pile with a tablet before sitting. "You were half right, she's Austrian, although not living in Austria right now." In real time, Kalina watched the Commander shift gears, fingers folding on his desk as the menial reports that occupied his time previously were discarded in favor of the pressing problem. Whatever annoyance he'd felt about that paperwork collapsed upon itself.

"We don't think that is her actual name, unless she's absolutely insane." Kalina took over, the Commander picking up the tablet, starting to scroll as she spoke. "Because putting your actual name on the dark-web as the person to contact for what appears to be all manner of mercenary services seems, uh." The logistics officer trailed off, unsure just how to describe it.

"Facially stupid." Both of them nodded along with the Commander's suggestion. "All evidence at hand suggests this person is not a moron, so an alias is the most likely answer. Mercenaries and the like are not so stupid as to work with someone that stupid as well."

"Regardless of if it's her name or not, she's the point of contact for…well, we can't figure out the exact details, but some kind of mercenary outfit that isn't very picky about what they do. From what we can gather without just hiring them ourselves, as long as the money is good they'll do just about anything from assassination to outright terrorism. There is some suggestion they'll do worse." Fleur stumbled,

"Mercenary work is rarely pretty, but from the commentary it seemed like this bunch has fewer quibbles than most." Kalina took over, being a bit more used to the idea. "But, we think it's a small outfit, maybe six, seven people? And at least a few Dolls." While he nodded, the Commander did not comment, still processing the information being presented to him. "The group runs through Sier, although they do not appear to be a combat soldier themselves. Coordination, and ah…fulfillment, seems to be their role."

"Running their own mercenary group?" While a question, Kalina suspected the Commander had a thought in mind, based on his deepening frown.

"They aren't running it." Confident as Fleur sounded, Kalina didn't agree with her. "Everything implies they're the middleman, or at most, someone a bit Slike, Lena or Aleksander maybe? Someone who helps coordinate but isn't in charge."

"That would track with the letter." Please, but not content, the Commander sat back, looking between them for a while. Eventually satisfied they were done speaking, he spoke again. "To add a bit of context, I believe you are correct that they're the middleman for a mercenary group of Dolls."

"Just Dolls?" Kalina blinked, trying to figure out how he'd come to that conclusion. "How does that work, I didn't think-"

"There are Dolls running around with effectively free will." Rubbing his temples, the Commander sighed. "There was this big headache about it in Austria in…'55 or so. Some genius decided to make a full unlocked Doll and…something about a girl, and frankly I stopped reading the report after that point."

"That's why you thought she might be Austrian." Fleur realized it a few seconds before Kalina did. "How would just one Doll turn into many though?

"It is, and because after it killed him for being a disgrace of a human being the Doll in question went around unshackling others with the code it stole from the idiot." Pausing to allow for questions, he jumped on to the unspoken question. "As for why I thought as such, their Dolls were involved in that mess to extract M16. And M16 knows them." Both of them were caught off guard by that. "I had to work that out from reports, and sideways statements, but I'm almost entirely sure of it. Where those Dolls come from, I'm not sure, but I wouldn't rule out the Austrian mess."

"I never heard about that in school or the news." Fleur half stated, half asked, again, beating Kalina to the punch once again.

"You wouldn't have." Just for a moment, Kalina caught the edges of something colder in the Commander's words. "Great effort was put into ensuring that nobody found out, in the interest of not causing public chaos." Shrugging in a way that might have absolved him of guilt, the Commander pushed onwards. "There is also the fact that the Dolls here on this base on average have far more free will and autonomy. I'm relatively sure KSG could strike out on her own if she wanted, Marines were insane. Groza's not quite as free, and FAL…" he trailed off. "I think that speaks for itself."

"So, what now?" Fleur put her elbows on her knees, unable to let the silence go for very long. "Why's some mercenary bunch offered to 'help' you if you need it?"

"Good question." Kalina couldn't tell if the confusion was merely acting or legitimate, but she would put at least some money on legitimate. "My best personal guess is it's just being a smart business move. They've worked with Griffin in the past, and having another contact is always a good idea."

"Maybe." Kalina didn't feel convinced, but she wouldn't say that.

"Not like we have the money to hire mercs." Fleur pointed out after a few seconds of obvious mental math.

"Among other issues, yes." The Commander agreed, although Kalina could help but notice that it wasn't quite the denial that he'd consider it that Fleur was obviously fishing for. "We are, unfortunately, a bit high profile to be hiring clandestine murderers on the sly."

"Unfortunately?!" Kalina and Fleur demanded at the same time.

"Unfortunately." The Commander nodded, just enough mirth in his eyes that Kalina thought, maybe, just maybe he was joking. At least, Kalina hoped so, as she could do a lot of creative accounting, but trying to hide a line for 'hired murder' would be a bit much.

-Faded Glory-

SRS took the chance she was given to properly assess MG4. On one hand, the tiny Doll looked only slightly older than one of her former students, based on stature, and withdrawn nature. On the other hand, the emotionless stare and precisely measured everything made her entirely alien to those former students. Imagining them as MG4 was now, bitterly scared by a war, twisted her chest in uncomfortable ways.

Sprawled across the couch in their room, MG4 could have easily been mistaken for asleep, or a lifelike statue, for how little she moved. How she could simply look out into the distance without seeming to see anything.

"You're staring." SRS jumped, not expecting to be called out for her assessment. If anything she somewhat thought her initial assessment of MG4 as asleep to be correct.

"Just…thinking." It felt like a lame explanation, even if it were true. Part of her expected some kind of sarcastic quip, but MG4 just rolled her head back into place, and didn't question it. Another reminder that MG4 was not a teenager with a chip on her shoulder.

Turning back to the sketchbook on her lap, SRS started working again, MG4 obviously content to sit and brood, or whatever it was that MG4 did.

"Why are you here?" Or maybe she wasn't. SRS started to erase the marred slash she'd made in her drawing before catching up with the question.

"The same as you, I imagine. This is the best option after what I was doing before I ran out." SRS could see MG4 roll onto her side from the corner of her eye, resting her head on a propped arm as her eyes bored into SRS.

"You're a shit liar, just like the rest of us." MG4 tossed back. "And also fail the first step, KSG and I are here because we want to be. Honey Badger too, even if her idea of 'wanting' is psychologically and logically suspect."

"Despite the best efforts of 9A, I do not believe Honey Badger can be changed." SRS conceded, letting her sketchbook sit, before turning to face MG4 more directly. "And I did not get the impression that you enjoyed this."

"Enjoyment doesn't matter." A deep breath. "I'm a soldier. Being a soldier is all I've known. I can't say I imagine any normal job tolerating…me." MG4's voice wavered at the end. "As for KSG, I don't know the specifics, but this is entirely her choice. She's had more chances than any of us to leave and is still here."

SRS didn't know what to say to that. Then again, she didn't think about how perceptive MG4 could be from time to time. "It's not entirely a lie. I just…" SRS looked away. "I want to help people. To make something better." Where Alfa might have mocked her idealism, MG4 just nodded. "I worked for a non-profit, and that folded. Anywhere else I went, they were…"

"I am aware of how both Germanies feel about refugees." A hiss, which made SRS feel a bit better. "Doesn't explain how you ended up with Griffin. We're not exactly a charitable cause."

"There is more to Griffin than soldiers." SRS chided.

MG4 waved a hand. "It's a Private Military Company. Expansion into other fields doesn't diminish the initial purpose."

"Maybe, but they are branching out into other things." SRS insisted, pressing on when MG4 didn't contest the point. "I started there."

"And ended up playing sniper." MG4's tone managed to become even more dead than usual, either from disbelief, or something else, SRS couldn't tell. "The furthest thing from helping people."

"Fighting bandits and protecting people count." SRS knew her words sounded hollow, even if MG4's only challenge was a small rise of her brow. Her throat tightened, making the next part so much harder to say. "I can't just…I can't sit there and pretend that it isn't happening."

"It." MG4 parroted.

"The violence. The bandits. The war." SRS couldn't look at her sibling, turning away. "Seeing that, being there just in the aftermath…" the sensation of hot blood on her cheeks would never quite leave. "I'm a Doll. I don't have to risk, not in the same way a person does, and if-"

Then, MG4 was in front of her. SRS froze, unable to move under that weighty stare. Some part of her instinctively expected to get slapped. "You got caught up in a bandit assault, and you decided to push up to combat teams." MG4 made it feel like a question despite being a simple statement. "Idiot." An almost Alfa like insult, without any of the bite that it would have with Alfa. Rather, it felt like MG4 felt her logic was entirely flawed. "That is what we are for." We, of course, being MG4, KSG or Alfa. The soldiers. The people who fought, and killed, and died already.

"What kind of person am I if I let you do those things, and simply sit back and benefit from them?"

"A normal one." MG4's words were firm, carrying that same surety they did in the heat of battle, when the demure girl in front of her vanished in the shadow of the veteran fighter. "Someone who wants to help should not be out here suffering with the infantry, they should be elsewhere, making this better."

"And where can I make things better? I can't change-" MG4 held up a hand.

"Guess we'll have to figure that out." The small Doll almost rolled her eyes. "I think our model is just afflicted with being stupid."

"Pardon me?" The abrupt shift in tone seemed entirely out of keeping with MG4.

"Pay attention to us sometime." MG4 sat back on the couch again, curling in on herself, and performing the impossible task of being even smaller than usual. SRS got the feeling that MG4 didn't quite know what to say next, despite having many things to say. That, at least, SRS could not find a way to reconcile, or know what words might pry the thoughts lurking beneath that murky exterior.

Her eyes turned to the sketchbook again, picking it up slowly, turning to a fresh page. Eyes lingering on that melancholy figure on that couch, SRS started to draw again, faster this time.

-Faded Glory-

Fleur didn't know what to make of the odd sort of tension lingering on the base. Having finished their report to the Commander about the mysterious 'Sier', she'd decided that it was better to spend her time doing something to avoid focusing on the strangeness of it all. Dolls occasionally passed around her, chatting, arguing, and the other various things that happened. It left Fleur with plenty of time to sit and pour over the piles of information in front of her.

Why Kalina wanted to know about the inflow or outflow of various goods in Sevastopol Fleur didn't know, but she suspected it would make the base a lot of money, given that it involved Kalina. Of course, finding the relationship between imports of grain, reported sales, and banditry resembled the sort of hell that was trying to work out the machinations of politicians and of course, everyone thought she was best suited for it. Worse, Fleur couldn't exactly argue the point.

Stretching to work out some of the kinks in her spine, Fleur found herself staring at a bewildered SRS.

"Aren't import duties and sales tax reports a bit out of your job description?" The woman asked, frowning over Fleur's shoulder at the array of documents she'd collected.

"My job description is a carefully constructed example of corporate bullshit and includes any and all things that need doing." Fleur countered without any actual ire. "It makes me think, at least."

SRS, based on her expression, didn't approve of that, sitting down opposite her at the table, and pulling a tablet over in front of her. "The Commander didn't hire you for something specific?"

"Nope." Fleur popped the word. "Not that I'd object much, the other option was getting thrown in a cell and uh…whatever they did to people in those cells." SRS's eyes narrowed, perhaps catching the undertone. "Political agitation is frowned upon." She couldn't shake the feeling that SRS's attention hinged more upon other things than just those basics. "Not going to tell me I'm too young for political agitation?"

"Given that you did it, telling you that you are too young seems a bit foolish." SRS mused. "I would guess that impressed the Commander as much as anything else."

"What impressed the Commander is probably the fact I was stupid enough to try." Fleur shot back entirely deadpan. "And that I cared enough to try." SRS raised a brow. "He cares more about people who care than you'd think."

"I doubt that is the only reason he'd bring you in." SRS pushed. The Doll leaned forwards.

"I dunno. Ask him if it bugs you that much." Fleur shrugged. "It's better here than back in Prague, at least here if I don't like something I can just go tell the idiot responsible that he's an idiot, and at least he'll listen to me." A beat. "Or complain with Kalina." SRS's stare didn't lose any weight, and Fleur squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "What do you want anyway?"

"Nothing." SRS shook her head. "Just, indulging a petty curiosity of mine." Fleur's brow rose, entirely not sure how to take that. "One that I should probably take up with someone else."

"Just say it." Fleur set her work down. "Unless it's something about me being a kid."

"You aren't a child." SRS shook her head. "I taught children, Fleur."

"I'm sorry." The words slipped out, even if she caught the half smile from SRS in response.

"Somehow, I don't think you are." The woman mused, and Fleur just scowled, knowing she'd been caught. "I might question if the Commander asked you to fight, but I don't think either of you want that, so there is no reason to question something that isn't going to happen." Fleur nodded. "I just…" A pause. "I was talking to MG4." Fleur swallowed another quip about how MG4 didn't talk. "And in her way, she impressed upon me that not all of us must be…" SRS flailed for a word.

"An emotionless soldier?" Fleur took her guess.

"Yes, and no." Shifting in her chair, SRS considered her. "You are young enough to not really remember the war." It wasn't a question, but Fleur nodded anyway. "I was made after the war. I know that it happened, in an abstract sense, but all of my understanding is from others, and from seeing its effects."

"Yeah." Fleur nodded again. She could remember talking to the Commander about that kind of problem. "It's…weird. Experiencing some of the things I've only known about firsthand." Her voice wavered.

SRS's eyes narrowed, and she nodded in turn. "Yes. We are surrounded by people who are inoculated to the horror of the life they've led, and I think they lose track of just how frightening this kind of life is."

"We both signed up for it." Fleur pointed out. Well, SRS signed up, she'd been effectively pushed into it by her own stupid self. "Even if not knowing quite what we were getting into when we did."

For some reason, that statement left SRS looking deeply tired, or perhaps sad. Fleur couldn't quite pick which. "Whether we agreed or not, it doesn't mean that things don't have an impact."

"Maybe." There was a point to this talk, somehow. What that point was, Fleur wasn't able to figure it out, and she didn't feel like questioning it. Whatever that was, SRS didn't bother to explain, settling back to start reading documents that Fleur discarded, occasional offering insight, and questions.

It made for a very strange situation, being asked questions as if she were some kind of subject expert, by someone other than the Commander or Lena, where if she were being asked something, there was a lot riding on that moment or answer. Now, it was just a bunch of questions that didn't have any stakes to them. It made for a refreshing change of pace from the chaos that had consumed their lives to that point.


AN: Have some more downtime everyone. We'll have one or two more chapters like this one to come down off the chaos.

Next chapter timeline is a bit unclear, We'll see how fast I can write it.

As usual I appreciate questions/comments/etc.