The call connecting already made KSG's head throb even before getting a look at PP-19. The other adjutant at least had the good grace to look contrite, although KSG couldn't say she believed the look or that it did much to cool the rising headache. "I gather I'm not going to like this."

"I suspect not." PP-19 shook her head, expression returning to a professional calm. "Sometime last night, a teenager claiming to be from a subversive cell turned himself in. Among the information that came from a night of spilling his guts was the supposed location of a safehouse his group used."

"I don't see what about this is relevant to me." KSG crossed her arms. She could of course guess, but she'd damn well make the other Doll say it, as it helped prevent her from verbally lashing out.

"According to him, there is a significantly armed contingent present there as of 0930." PP-19 let that sit, her eyes begging KSG to comment in some way, to make the next part less uncomfortable. Alas, the Marine found no value in that. She had her orders just as PP-19 did, and they did not involve making this an easy process. "Armed enough that Commander Orlov is requesting the support of Sector 9."

KSG took a third of a second to creatively swear vengeance upon all and sundry. Blackwood's skill of predicting others held firm, and it took less than fifteen minutes for something to happen, which had been her guess when he'd asked. Pushing away all of her fire and fury for the task at hand, KSG straightened. A broad enough request that KSG could see the terms of engagement, and she intended to do just that. "Forward everything you have." Whoever sorted the data needed to be fired, as it arrived is a disorganized jumble.

PP-19 let KSG do her own sorting quickly before speaking again. "He is requesting your assistance immediately as he does not want to let the chance to remove a cell to slip through." The last bit felt unnecessary, and equally not all that important.

KSG couldn't say that she didn't care for what Orlov wanted, she could at least push back. The entire situation stunk, even without all of Blackwood's priming on the matter. "I will assume there are eyes on the location already."

PP-19 nodded. "One of our Dolls is watching, yes."

"Tell your Commander Sector 9 can deploy three Echelons within-" KSG took a moment to think. Without her own echelon on base, the others were scattered about meaning it would take time to assemble and deploy. "Ninety minutes. Send me every bit of information available, including building layout, potential non-combatants present, and other contents. Likewise, a full police cordon of the area." KSG paused. "Oh, and PP-19? If there is a news frenzy around this, I will let the snipers use the cameras as target practice." Having media around never made life easier, so she'd add her own small pettiness to the situation.

If the abrupt shift in tone and bearing surprised PP-19 she did not show it. The first demands met with easy nods, the final one a jerk of surprise. PP-19's face vanished for a moment, then she reappeared. "The Commander says that is reasonable. Your fourth Echelon is deployed with the earlier request?"

"Correct." Another situation that required swallowing her own misgivings. The need to defend supply convoys going out to bases and settlements made sense, but assigning Griffin Dolls felt overkill until she read the reports, and the sinking feeling that they'd in fact chosen underkill rose. Worse still, with Blackwood already occupied, she really did have to remain back, as the other human staff weren't officers.

PP-19 saluted, taking that at the face value. "I will let you prepare, adjutant." The call terminated with a snap, and for a few moments, KSG considered containing her frustrations. Then, she gave up, hurling a ball of papers at the wall with all the force she could. The flaccid thump only made it all the more pathetic.

FAL, Groza, M4. Get your idiots back to base. Politeness failed her, frustrations and worries piling up long before KSG had any chance to think about containing them. Glaring up at her from the desk, written orders from Blackwood provided the only material guidance on the situation, and the longer she thought about it, the more KSG regretted this entire quasi-officer nonsense she'd found herself in.

Why? What's happening? FAL replied first, questioning but not overly concerned.

Friendly neighborhood idiot decided to double down. KSG pushed what she had sorted from the 'confession'. It had just enough credible nonsense in it that KSG couldn't treat it as less than serious, even though she'd seen more than enough to write the situation off as an elaborate fraud.

"Understood. On the way." FAL paused, even distant and networked the disquiet seemed obvious. KSG?

"Yes?" Alone, she could, KSG remembered, talk aloud. Then again, she never wanted

"You-"

"Orlov isn't commanding." KSG cut her off, with more force than she intended. "I'll be overseeing Sector 9."

"And if Orlov forces the issue?" Groza countered.

KSG drew a breath. This would be the damning answer, in the end. The one she had been empowered to give, the one their entire sector's structure hinged upon uncomfortably. "I have orders from Blackwood putting me in direct command of Sector 9, and that does not include giving that to anyone else." Would that hold up in the long term? KSG could not say, given what she knew about the other players in this little drama. She could only somewhat say that she trusted Blackwood's situational awareness, and her ability to do what she'd always done. Everything after that, KSG would not say she kept good track of it all.

-Faded Glory-

"Governor." Ian dipped his head, having decided on the ride over respect would be the better part of valor for the time being. Helian did not suggest they had an adversarial relationship with the local powers that be, so playing nice seemed wise, both for his 'career' and for his longevity.

"Commander Blackwood." Surprisingly they did not meet in an office, or any other place that Ian might have expected, instead a small alcove looking out a window over the city. Two frankly run-down chairs sat beneath it, with a table between them, conspicuously empty. "This is your first time in Warsaw?"

Small talk it would be. In any other situation it might have been just that small talk, but Ian didn't believe that for an instant. "Over the years I have spent considerable time passing through the airport, and the airspace, but have never experienced the city itself." Despite the mangy look, the chair proved unusually comfortable. The urge to rub his temples rose, as Ian realized his old habits were coming back in force.

"A pity." Drumming his fingers into the arm of his own chair, the governor sighed. "I suspect your current visit has not left much time for sightseeing so far." A good lead into the probing question too.

"No, it has not." Folding his hands on his lap, served as a good cover for the few seconds of thought about whether to play along. "Being into an unknown situation without information does not leave much time for sightseeing." Perhaps terse, perhaps pointed, but entirely true. "Information on all fronts coming in was limited."

If the other man took those words as a rebuke he did not show it, searching for something he did not seem to find, if the follow up question were any indication. "What is your impression of Commander Orlov, Commander Blackwood?" Tone and pacing of the words suggested it to be a rather benign question, save for the fact Ian just made a comment about the situation being less than ideal and further, anyone with a few seconds of thought could tell they were not men destined to get along well.

Without knowing the relationship between the other Commander and their ostensible local employer, Ian decided to take the most diplomatic route. "He's an infantryman."

A half smile told him plenty all by itself, although that did not clarify the situation to hand. Nor did it allow them to advance forwards. "Griffin and Kryuger is a truly interesting thing, Commander Blackwood. One of the largest PMCs in the country, furnished with powerful allies, connections at the highest levels of government, and led by a war hero." The governor paused, obviously wanting an interjection, but getting nothing seemed to take a bit of the wind out of the man's sails. "Equally, a company quite willing to recruit, aren't they? Taking in quite a motley collection of individuals."

There were only a few ways that could be taken. "My presence is more than enough evidence of that.

"Indeed." The governor hummed, fingers again beating into the arm of the chair. "I am not blind, Commander Blackwood." Few men were truly blind, in Ian's experience, but quite a few could be considered ignorant or foolish, at least in the area they were currently in. "You have arrived in my city with firepower to spare. Your Dolls are ill suited to this sort of work, being a collection of soldiers and civilians from lines of work that are not policing. A man could wonder just what the intent of such a force would be, walking into a city on the edge of crisis." An angle on current events Ian barely had the time to consider in all the other chaos, although a valid one. "Griffin already commands great influence this far out, I do not see any value in Bernovich Kryuger making a play for more control."

A question that one did not ask any random Commander. Then again, the Sector leaders were not 'regular' by any stretch of the imagination. "Kryuger is not looking to establish his own personal fiefdom, if that is your concern. While I spent most of the last time we spoke airing out various grievances, I am quite confident in that at least." Ian knew that fishing for information by planting seeds of lies about his positions and loyalties wouldn't be the most helpful in the short term, but habits were indeed dying hard. And the small advantage later had to be played for. "My orders were to assist Commander Orlov, and in pursuit of that, I require information so as to make informed decisions about how best to go about that." A wry smile wormed past his control. "If you would permit me a moment of bluntness, a Russian occupied Poland is a situation asking for troubles well beyond what we see at the moment."

"It is." A slight nod, as the man relaxed back into his seat, appeased for the time being by what he'd heard. "I consider myself fortunate. My predecessor died in a car bombing, you see. Only two such attempts have been made upon my life, both dealt with quickly by Commander Orlov and his Dolls." Ian did not fill the silence, letting the man finish the thought. "Neither threat could be considered recent, and since then, things in the city have been quiet until this recent spate of unrest."

"You make it sound as if the unrest came from nowhere." Underneath the layers of politics and dancing, Ian's hackles started to rise.

"It certainly did. I'm sure Commander Orlov would agree." While Ian doubted that, he kept that thought to himself. "About four months prior, these rumblings started, and have only been growing since that point." Ian started the thought to ask KSG to cross reference before remembering that he did not have his adjutant present and could just do it himself. The information did match up to what he could recall, but he wanted another set of eyes on it the moment he got back. "You have a thought." Unfortunately hadn't quite caught that question in time.

Thoughts were, ostensibly, what people paid him for. "A few. Sudden upwellings of public sentiment rarely happen unprompted. Policy changes four months ago? Shifts in any significant manner?" The questions rolled off his tongue easily, the comfort of well trodden ground helping to assuage Ian's growing unease.

-Faded Glory-

"Why's KSG not coming with?" Honey Badger finally asked the question that had been bothering her all morning as they prepared, coordinated all the steps of deploying Sector 9 Dolls with a supply convoy, and finally arrived at the point of climbing into vehicles. Vehicles that even Honey Badger thought weren't very 'armored' despite being called 'armored'.

"Getting dragged into officer shit." Slamming a magazine into her rifle with more force than required, Alfa growled her reply in a way that suggested the question itself didn't upset her, but the answer certainly did. "Commander is forced to deal with some political bullshit, while everyone else gets the day off, so our sorry asses are out here looking pretty." Their temporary leader huffed and added on as a bitter afterthought. "There is a whole ass garrison in that damn city, they can deal with some bandits. Cheaper, easier, and don't drag me outta bed way too damn early."

"Uhm." Honey Badger looked to SRS and MG4, in a desperate hope that one of them might have an answer that didn't make her feel like she was about to get stabbed for a crime she didn't commit. Alfa's anger felt more complex than just her words, but even as a self-admitted daredevil, Honey Badger could not find herself brave enough to ask the question. Unfortunately, MG4 seemed quite content to focus on herself and her own equipment, and SRS appeared to be trying to look anywhere but either of them.

Alfa, apparently sensed the question anyway, seeming to try and calm herself before going on again. "I'm pissed as hell because of this," A vague gesture at their surroundings, the men loading trucks, while glancing at the four Dolls standing in the midst of it all, armed to the teeth and agitated, "Is not something I'm good at. I'm good at being the sarcastic asshole. I drove a tank. The lowest ranked position in that tank. Closest I've been to responsibility is being told I was allowed to call our platoon Lt. a pansy bitch, and I like it that way." Honey Badger had the suspicion that Alfa would have done that without being given permission. "Being told that I'm nominally in charge of three others, not getting command level support due to the political nonsense in the city? Being asked to be something I'm absolutely not? Doesn't sit right."

Honey Badger did not know how to respond to that. MG4 broke the silence. "And I am not fit for any kind of command responsibility." Such a bland statement, as if given, which Honey Badger could not say she agreed with. "Alfa is the logical leadership choice, and our squad is the same for this mission. Our primary leader is busy with other matters, and the odds of combat are deemed to be low, but if combat happens it needs both firepower and experience." Shrugging as she finished her examination of her weapon, MG4 shrugged. "This is no comfort for Alfa."

As if to prove the point, Alfa didn't hesitate to fire off her retort. "I will shove that bipod up your ass, sister or not." Honey Badger and SRS both flinched, and MG4 contentedly ignored her, and with the tension 'broken', Alfa gave them all one more look over. "We ready?" Three nods, and Honey Badger could see her try and steady herself. "Right. SRS, you're with me, MG4, Badger, take the second to last armored car." A glance at MG4 showed no objection, which really meant she was already four paces away and leaving. It took three bounding steps to catch up with her, after a sloppy salute to Alfa.

Climbing inside, Honey Badger's assessment that these things were deathtraps only grew. "Keep your head up." MG4 instructed, settling into a chair and cradling her gun. "You have better optics."

"I do?" That didn't make sense, given that MG4 existed for the war, and presumably spotting the enemy would be a good idea, while Honey Badger was a civilian Doll and they usually got bargain basement insides.

MG4 nodded, glancing up briefly. "I don't need visual optics, I can compensate with actual optics." She tapped her weapon for emphasis. "You need good visual optics to stabilize while moving. "If they pop something, targets will be in front then behind us." Honey Badger gulped. MG4 didn't seem to notice forging on. "Anything looks weird, say so, even if it's just a pile of shit at the side of the road."

"Anything weird, say so, if we're getting blasted, front, then behind, you have shit eyeballs, got it." Honey Badger nodded, pulling herself up the hatch, looking out as they started rolling. "Can this thing even take a hit?"

"No." The dry response carried the implication of personal knowledge, which only added to the lack of comfort. "Other questions?"

Curiosity defeated common sense. "How do you know that?"

The laugh in her ears rang hollow. "How do you think I know that?" She'd personally shot one up. Honey Badger decided that, just this once she'd leave it alone.

-Faded Glory-

"I cannot be the only person who thinks this is overkill." Ballista settled into a spot on the roof of an office building, fixing her sights on the warehouse across the street. FN-49, and SV-98 locked in from their own positions a moment later, her visual landscape filled by overlapping fields of fire, telemetry and other visual nonsense.

"No idea." Ballista recognized that tone, one that implied that KSG knew full well that this was both overkill and that she knew things she would not say. Things that, unless Ballista guessed wrong, upset the other Doll severely. "Orders are to play ball for now, so we'll play ball." KSG continued to push information out, nonverbally clarifying as she went. "Supposedly, there's a whole cell in there, reported number between sixty and seventy targets, armed and hostile. Information comes from a supposed mole." The bland, emotionless delivery, bringing all the stilted energy of a woman sent to die, inspired even less confidence than before. Ballista adjusted her grip on her rifle, settling further into position. Moving would become a luxury soon, as even if KSG believed nothing would happen she also apparently wanted to look good for the cameras. "Building is supposedly a warehouse for a shipping company that deals primarily in foodstuffs, so it's unlikely snipers will be able to fire through the walls."

Below, several blocks away the cordon of local police and the existing garrison of Dolls sealed off a sizable perimeter. "Well if they didn't know we were here before, they sure do now." SV-98's remark made FAL and Groza curse.

"We'll just have to make due." Dismissive, but hard edged, KSG's tone made it clear they should ignore the sideshow. "Interior layout is unknown, please maintain uplink to ensure accurate locational data." A beat. "Lightning, you will be breaching at point Charlie, Artemis Echo, Anti-Rain, Alpha." The map updated accordingly, with notations about what they expected. "Our 'source' is light on details about what to expect internally." How KSG maintained the veneer of professionalism, Ballista didn't know. "Snipers, fields of fire are established, call targets as needed. Anything escaping primary engagement area will be dealt with by perimeter quarantine. Spotters, call targets if needed." Somehow the intent on being legitimate and by the book made the entire situation feel like even more of a farce.

"I'm not projecting when I think she wants to hit someone, am I?" SV-98 asked on the local band.

"You are not." Then again, Ballista also wanted to hit something, so perhaps she was also projecting. "I don't think she likes this situation any more than we do."

"Why not say so?" PP-2000 joined the conversation, far more radio static on her line.

"It's a 'dog and pony show'." FN-49 jumped in.

"For the theatrics." Ballista affirmed her squadmates assessment. "And as the nominal officer KSG isn't going to let her feelings be known, and if the intel is actually right, her caution is warranted."

Before anyone could say anything else, KSG cut in. "Go in three. Chatter on local band only, we've got eyes." If she'd been listening, she gave no indication.

-Faded Glory-

When they were told they would be breaching a warehouse it did not sound like M16's idea of a good time. Stacking up on either side of the door, with a small charge to blow it in already set, M16 confirmed that initial impression. They didn't know anything about this, really, and had to charge in blind.

Across from her, M4's gripped her weapon hard enough to shake the clearest sign of nervousness as the seconds ticked by. All of them could see the timer to when KSG wanted them to go running down but that did not make those final seventeen seconds better. As the clock rolled over to zero, KSG affirmed it with a mental go signal.

Breaching charges cracked, two flashbangs followed, and as they went off, the AR team followed. M16 swept to the side, finding nothing but a wall ,which she promptly plastered herself too, followed by SOP, as M4 and AR-15 fanned into a wider open space on the other side. No gunfire, no traps, just an eerie silence. Even the sounds of the other teams entering were absent, with both distance and the packed building swallowing the sound. M16 added one more thing to the list of things she didn't like.

Confirming the room to be clear, M4 gestured for them to keep going down the only hallway. Overhead lights were on, adding a thin electrical buzz to the situation, as they started down the wall, weapons raised. Tension mounted as they reached a set of branching doors, likely offices based on the internal map. At the same time both doors opened, and as pairs stormed inside.

Again, they found nothing. M16 found herself face to face with a storage closet, and across the hall, was an office. Stepping out again, they pushed forwards to the next pair of doors. Beyond them a wider area could be seen.

"M16, first room, AR-15, second." M4 instructed. "SOP with me."

M16 lobbed a flash into her designated room. Timing her entry with the fuse, she found a bland office space, occupied by a desk, two shelves, and a computer setup. Stepping around the desk the monitor had a screensaver up, a man's kids, in various school functions. No nameplate on the desk. Poking under it for good measure, M16 straightened, giving the area one more once over. Clear. Just an office.

Same. AR-15's reply radiated confusion, and M16's sense of unease only grew. Throwing them at an empty building sat wrong, even without the thousand cues beforehand.

KSG? M4 asked on an open local channel as they regrouped in preparation to push forwards to the loading dock they knew existed just outside the hallway.

Confirming, no contacts, office space, and entry area. Silence stretched for nearly a minute. Continue further in. No change.

All three of her sisters sent her a questioning look, to which M16 could only shrug. This didn't make a lick of sense to her. With that matter settled they swept out onto the loading dock in a flurry, weapons sweeping the room in wide arcs.

Both bays were empty, a stack of used pallets in one corner, next to a pile of broken ones. No people, or even signs of people could be seen. High above, windows let in plenty of daylight, chasing away any of the shadows that lurkers might have used to hide. Sticking to the wall, M16 worked her way towards the bay doors to check behind the pallets, while M4 and AR-15 turned towards a door directly to the right of the entrance.

Another office. M4 emerged a moment later. Two desks, no people.

Door hinges creaked, and they all froze, falling into shooting stances and pressing against whatever cover they had. The sound came from a small side hall with a label that seemed to translate to 'toilets' M16's finger crept towards the trigger of her weapon, as a man stepped out, humming a tune and whipping his still wet hands on his pants.

So distracted was he that this newcomer did not immediately realize four Tactical Dolls were training weapons on his chest, and only a twitch away from sending him to a grave. When he did look down and catch sight of M4 and AR-15's, he froze, eyes widening in shock and confusion, mouth opening, probably to scream.

M16 tensed. She couldn't see any indications he carried a weapon, or anything threatening, but if the information could be believed, that didn't mean much. A big if.

"Hands in the air." M4's voice wavered, cutting across the building scream or question. Frantically, the poor man complied, eyes flickering the side and catching sight of the two other Dolls, then back to AR-15 as she moved to the side. He started to turn and M4 spoke again. "Do not move."

"Y-yes, of course." Panic and fear tinged those words, obvious reactions for a random civilian with guns in his face. M4 gestured for M16 to approach and search the man, which she did, moving carefully to not startle him, or cut off any sight lines. Finally dropping her rifle against her chest, M16 started to pat him down, not finding anything.

"You work here?" The question appeared to scare him even more, if that could be possible.

"Y-yes. What is happening?" With death apparently not on the immediate cards, some measure of confusion took over.

"You seen anything weird lately?" M16 started on his legs. "Unusual people, anything?"

"No?" he shook his head. "Just the usual three trucks a day, everyone's been on time this week, uh- I think Boris called out today, but he's always out-"

"Good, good." M16 stood, cutting off the incoming ramble, and taking up her weapon again. "He's clean."

M4 gave the update. "KSG, one civilian, clean. Clueless."

It took a good fifteen seconds for KSG to respond. The measured tone, clipped at the end betrayed the emotions in the other Doll, not that any of them could tell why. "Confirm, one civilian, non-threat, reports nothing unusual."

"Correct." M4 sent. Again, the reply took a moment.

"Escort him outside, I'll have a spotter take him a safe distance." It felt distracted, as if KSG were putting her focus elsewhere. Whether that meant this situation, or something else, M16 could not guess. "Continue search, updating internal map every one minute."

"Let's go." M16 put a hand on the man's back, gently, but firmly encouraging him to walk. Fortunately, he complied without much resistance.

"What-what is all this-" Stumbling forwards, he glanced around, watching three sets of eyes follow him out of the room, and SOP moved to cover M16's back down the hall.

"Someone will meet you outside, and they can explain everything." M16 replied, as they entered the foyer. Her mental map updated to mark PP-2000 as outside, and M16 gestured for him to open the door. "He's a bit panicked."

"I wonder why." The sardonic reply made M16 swallow a snort of laughter. "I'll get him to safety." A beat, as PP-2000 visibly debated saying more. "Snipers don't like this."

"Neither do we." You didn't need to be some fancy soldier to see something was up with this entire situation in M16's opinion, the problem lay in trying to figure out what. Too many eyes, too much fanfare, and they'd found nothing. Not even a hint as to the threat in play, despite being 'assured' there were more than fifty hostiles. "Anything going on with the other teams?"

PP-2000 paused a few steps away. "No. "

M16 scowled, before adjusting her weapon and heading back towards her siblings.

-Faded Glory-

Watching terrain roll by proved even duller than SRS might have expected, although she usually had something else to occupy her time when traveling instead of having to keep vigilant watch for someone, or something, that might want to blow them up. Over the radio and inside the armored car, Alfa's low stream of muttered invectives at least provided something of a break in the monotony, although the viciousness continuing to rise did prove concerning. Somewhere about ten minutes prior the tone shifted from general anger to the very specific insults, targeting the intelligence and other capabilities of specific individuals, with a level of detail that probably put her sister on a list. Or multiple lists.

"She always like that?" The driver of their vehicle asked, the radio popping and cracking over the words.

"Normally no." SRS shook her head, then realized the man couldn't see, and spoke. "She's more wound up than usual about this job."

"That right?" The tone suggested that man didn't quite buy that, but mercifully didn't push the issue, as SRS could not find a good way to explain the overarching mess without giving things away. Another mile rolled away as Alfa started on the design of Soviet armored cars and vehicles in general, going into equally graphic detail about how she wanted to inflict harm on the responsible parties. "Sure is creative."

SRS squinted into the distance, hoping to find something more interesting to see, then gave up, as even with a scope, she couldn't pick out details in the hills a mile away, even less with the tree lines and high speed in the way. "I am told I should blame the Army." That got a bark of laughter in reply.

"Yeah, infantry do have that talent. Had a cousin who joined up. Get a couple drinks in him, and made for fun parties." They slowed, approaching a bit of a wide bend, rocks and rubble covering most of the road, which brought the entire line of vehicles to a crawl. "Think she'll keep up the next hour? It beats the radio for listening material."

"I hope not." SRS swept her eyes over the thickening trees around them. This, she knew, would be the perfect place for an ambush, with a slow moving supply convoy, and a tree line that made it impossible to see anything. This route, according to the people in the city, never got attacked, but they hadn't' been warned about this debris either. A slow-moving supply convoy, a narrow road, and almost nothing visible in the tree line. Her pulse rate quickened, hand tightening on her weapon.

Badger, do you see- There was a small flash of light in the treeline. SRS turned, squinting at it, opening her mouth to speak. At that precise moment, the vehicle in front of them exploded, filling her vision with yellow and red. A chunk of twisted metal sheared the air just past her face, and bits of concrete and steel peppered her face.

The driver swerved to the right, as SRS screamed, falling down inside the cabin. Something slashed across the space she'd been in, the air screaming as it parted. Another explosion rocked the unstable vehicle, then a second, then a third. Gunfire could be heard over her own screaming and pounding heart, and the radio gave her a front row seat to the dying screams of their driver.

They toppled over, and SRS slammed into Alfa sending them both rolling on the new floor, as a fresh blast hit the driver. Alfa's swearing picked up notch, then vanished.

"MG4, they've got armor!" Why Alfa yelled it, SRS didn't know, but any idea of asking the quest was lost when bullets slapped against the 'ceiling' tearing through and splattering them with spall and shrapnel. Before SRS could process this new development, she found herself being shoved out the back door, into a haze of smoke.

A bullet skipped off the asphalt, then another over her head, as explosions continued around them. Waving a hand to clear her vision, SRS almost hit Alfa, her sister scrambling out after her, weapon in hand, and eyes flashing with some new emotion.

"Move!" The shout cut through the confused haze in SRS's mind ,and she scrambled to follow Alfa, as her sister chose the most audacious plan, running straight for the treeline, and into the haze of a fresh smoke grenade.

A shell hit their ride as they started fleeing, and shrapnel riddled SRS's back and legs, but she only stumbled doing her best to keep up, although not able to follow Alfa's example and shoot at what, or who ever shot at them.

It wasn't until she dove into the underbrush that SRS felt like she could take proper stock of the situation. This felt like none of their previous battles, which were a chaotic mess, but could be followed, and understood. This felt like an uncontrolled eruption of motion and death and destruction. Black smoke choked her vision of the road, but what she could see suggested the convoy to be entirely destroyed. Muffles cracks of gunfire could be heard, although telling if that were hostiles or friendly gunshots proved impossible.

Alfa crawled up beside her, a large bit of shrapnel lodged in her side, and various other wounds covering her body, small lines of coolant and other fluids running down her limbs. Visibly giving SRS a once over, the other Doll nodded sharply. "Armor is that way." She jerked her head in a westerly direction. "Not sure how far, but that way."

Armor, that meant enemy vehicles, which probably explained what had been shooting explosions at them. Then, the implications of Alfa's words caught up with her. "We're going after them?!" SRS could feel her pulse spiking, visible warnings about her internals being worked hard appearing on his vision.

"You beat your ass, we are." Determination underscored the raw fury in Alfa's voice. "That's why we're here, and I'm not letting these bastards get away with it." Once again, SRS had no choice but to follow her sister through the trees and brush. Out in the open, they could see groups of enemies starting to move out, weapons in hand. None of them were looking towards the treeline, instead focused squarely on the area in front of them.

Holding up a closed fist, Alfa knelt, pointing towards the nearest group. "Tall one, there. Him, then the either side. I'll get the other two."

Shouldering her weapon, SRS gulped. Plenty of Sangvis died by her hand, but those felt much different from humans, which these targets obviously were. Her base coding protested for a moment as she settled the sights over the first target, before the Commander's permission to engage human targets took over. That did not make her shake any less as she planned out what to do. Did not stifle the feeling that she was about to kill someone's parent, or brother, or child, and how she would just create more bitter people, more broken children.

But, these people just tried to kill her. Had almost killed her. Might have killed her sister, and killed at least a dozen humans, probably more. Her finger shook over the trigger, as that mental battle waged. At her side, Alfa drew a slow, steady breath. No shake or hesitation, her finger curled about the trigger. If SRS didn't fire, she knew Alfa would. Worse, if they didn't do this now, these people would be a threat to them going forwards. That should have absolved SRS of her guilt, she knew, protecting herself and her family.

The kick of her rifle matched the rise of bile in her throat. Superhuman strength meant she'd already retargeted and fired before the enemies could react to the death of their comrade, or to the sound of the gunshots as Alfa engaged. The third shot flew in turn.

The first two men's heads snapped forwards, then the other three took hits almost in tandem, one's head whipping forwards and the other two stumbling forwards as the bullets hit. Alfa kept shooting with a muffle curse. Bile stayed in SRS's throat as the corpses hit the ground.

"Move." Alfa hissed, and robotically, SRS scrambled after her, still trying to process what just happened. More gunfire could be heard behind them, although where it was aimed, she had no clue. Even the passing trees were barely visible, just the panic and the guilt and confused mess of feelings about it all.

Bursting through a particularly thick bit of foliage, they were confronted but what had to be a patrol sent to find them. A woman, eyes wide with shock, as she saw them first, an a man who had been looking the other way. Alfa's rifle barked twice. SRS didn't see what happened, only that the woman stood in her way, and she swung a hand to get this new threat out of the way.

The force knocked the woman to the side sending her stumbling, and then to the dirt, where she hit an exposed rock with an audible 'crack'. SRS didn't see any movement as she kept running, forced to leap over the other member of the patrol, the man face down in the earth, blood already pooling.

SRS made it a few more steps, before the swirling emotions and revulsion caught up, and she stumbled, sliding forwards on her hands and knees and puking up what little remained inside her 'stomach'.

-Faded Glory-

Honey Badger decided very quickly that she did not appreciate being ambushed. While she'd gotten more warning, seeing the first vehicle explode, and started to duck down and call a warning, that didn't change the results. First shell the driver's cabin, the detonation killing the driver, and creating enough shrapnel to tear her left leg apart at the knee. Visual warnings erupted, as the dozens of other wounds were registered in turn. The second shot hit towards them, adding to the chaos but keeping Honey Badger from further harm as she collapsed into the passenger area.

MG4 swore in her native tongue, having kicked the door open, before looking back and seeing Honey Badger, which brought new swearing. The language didn't matter, Honey Badger didn't want the translation.

Reaching back and pulling her forwards, MG4 composed herself. "Cover?"

Honey Badger struggled to make her brain work enough to recall the surroundings. "Pile on the road, about…thirty feet back." That sounded right. Bullets were hitting around them now, and Honey Badger's heart rate kept rising. Meanwhile, MG4 seemed to be calming, hefting Honey Badger onto her back, the small doll able to take advantage of her stature for once.

"ID on where that armor is shooting from?"

"Everywhere I think?"

Grimly, MG4 nodded, patting her gun, and drawing in a deep breath. "Cover make it to the forest edge?"

"Just about?" Honey Badger strained to remember. "Maybe a bit of a run to the trees. MG4 grunted. Outside the explosions were starting to die down. "What-"

MG4 coiled, entire body shaking with potential movement. "I'm going to drag your ass to that cover. We will then pray we make it to something more covering, where you can stay safe."

Honey Badger didn't like how that sounded. Both being left alone, and what MG4 might be doing. "And you?"

She could see no hint of a smile, only the edges of eyes, dark, cold, and full of violence. "I will fight. Hopefully find Alfa and SRS."

"And if not?"

MG4 didn't answer. "When I say, cover fire, that vague direction." She pointed. With no option but to agree, Honey Badger gripped her gun tight, aiming in the indication area. With a whispered line in German, MG4 started to move. Honey Badger did her best to fire in bursts but ended up spraying more of her magazine helplessly into the air. As she did, she hit the dirt, thrown bodily over MG4's shoulders and rolled helplessly, to a stop. Bullets cracked overhead and into rock and trees. Something exploded, answered by two more. MG4 ended up kneeling next to her, machine gun slung over her back, side arm in hand.

"Well, now what?" Honey Badger fumbled with her reload. Somewhere else, gunfire sounded, not aimed at them this time.

MG4 checked that she had a round chambered. "Two vehicles per side. Probably light, BMP-1 or BTRD. Gunners suck. Probably thirty-five, maybe forty total." The machinegunner blinked twice. "Can you reach Alfa?"

Honey Badger tried, and not no response on any local frequency. "Nope."

As MG4 nodded in thought, something moved over her shoulder. Honey Badger shot at it out of reflex. Meaty thunks of bullets on body armor rang out, before the recoil took the rounds higher and the man died. MG4 didn't so much as flinch or turn to look at the body as it collapsed behind her. "They'll get the big gun moved soon."

Which meant they'd be screwed. "Then-"

"We're moving." And by moving she really meant dragging Honey Badger. Another man vaulted the rubble as MG4 moved to pick Honey Badger up. This time, MG4 shot first, the first pistol shot going low, and hitting his armor, but the second buried itself in his throat. Picking up Honey Badger once more she started to run, as more detonations, albeit sounding different, could be heard behind them. Honey Badger guessed gas tanks were cooking off.

"Idiots." MG4 muttered it, as they crossed the treeline, plunging a good twenty yards in, and out of sight of the road before stopping. This time, Honey Badger found herself deposited more calmly, back up against a tree. Hefting her machinegun, MG4 glanced down at her. "Patch that leg up and stay low. Anyone comes close, shoot to kill."

Nothing about this made sense to Honey Badger. "What about-"

Stopping a few steps away, MG4 looked back. "Without a leg, I can't protect you." Before Honey Badger could object more, the other Doll vanished. It didn't take long before the sound of violence was audible nearby.

"The hell does she mean?" Honey twisted to the side, dragging herself towards something more covering, and doing her best to ignore the sounds of fighting. Something crunched to her left, probably feet, which meant someone came looking. Within the brush, Honey Badger tensed, taking aim in the general direction of the sound, and could only wait.

As the duo came into view, Honey Badger could see faces, at least enough to realize that they weren't much older than her physical appearance, but also told her that these were probably not professional soldiers, like her squadmates. Trained, like she was, but lacking the surety of KSG, MG4 or even Groza. Their weapons shook, as they swept the area. Honey Badger took aim.

"Nothing." Left muttered. "You sure?"

"Saw them come in here." Came the sharp counter, as the other one looked right at her hiding spot. Honey Badger pulled the trigger, holding it a bit longer than usual. Four rounds slapped into her target. Body armor probably helped a little, but didn't save him. His partner wildly fired over Honey Badger's head. Five more rounds silenced him as well. Honey Badger tried not to think about that, trying to drag herself away from the obvious point that she inhabited.

"Badger? MG4? One of you two fucking idiots answer me damnit!" Alfa's voice in the network made for a strange comfort, as she pulled herself along the ground. Luckily, for all the fury in their temporary leader's voice, it didn't seem to be for Honey Badger.

Honey Badger hoped she didn't sound too relieved to speak. "Here."

"Finally." The rage luckily was not focused on here. "Status?"

Down a leg. I just killed two of them.

"Joyous." Something exploded in the distance. "Least BMP's still explode like I remember." Alfa didn't sound happy about that information and Honey Badger didn't want to try and parse it. "Where is my other idiot sister?"

"Don't know?" Twigs crunched nearby. Honey Badger tensed in preparation for another fight. "She dropped me in a hole and ran off."

Silence. More gunfire peppered the air. "Repeat that for me." Gone was joking, sarcastic or funny, instead Alfa sounded serious, and Honey Badger did not like that one bit either. Too serious.

"MG4 stuck me here and ran off. I don't know where. Can't exactly follow. Why?"

"Because." Alfa seemed to collect herself. "Couple BMPs, probably twenty hostiles, she'll be fine." That didn't sound convincing, for either of them. Another pair of targets moved into view. This time, Honey Badger didn't wait. She got the first, ignoring the wet something that splattered over her face, before missing the second. Bullets tore through a tree, sending wood splinters flying, as he unhelpfully combined shouting in fear and diving for cover.

Honey Badger swore. "Alfa- "

"Can't help, got problems." Something exploded, closer this time. "A lot of problems!"

Honey Badger shoved herself to the side, fumbling for a magazine pouch. She could hear her foe speaking rapidly onto probably a radio and swore harder.


AN: Behold, violence, done professionally. And, a very spicy day in the former Polish Republic.

Good news for everyone, is that I've written everything for the conclusion of this mini-arc, and it just needs editing, so providing I don't suffer a sudden greeting from Truck-kun the next chapter is coming as soon as I can edit it…and provided I don't scope creep it, so I dont' get airmailed some kind of horrifying wildlife by Branded. Or a glitterbomb. Or a .zip Bomb for my computer.

Until next time.