Operation Black Dawn
Mission 4 - Where are we?
September ? - 1995/1097
Thirty-five minutes after mass Disappearances of GDI and Nod Forces
"With all due respect, what the fuck is going on?"
- Anon. US Army Soldier, 1995/1097
WO1 Pyeong Chong-woo - ? - Dated ?
Truth be told, I wasn't expecting to be accepted that quickly. I was expecting them to kill me there and suddenly, but...
They let my sorry ass join them. What in the actual fuck...? In a realistic situation, I'd be gunned down after being treated like a major threat. You know, to their whole mission and that kind of stuff. I've heard stories like that around the Initiative. GDI Commandos having to 'pay for the vacations' of certain 'interesting individuals' who 'pose a significant obstacle to the interests of the Initiative'. These included civilians, enemy forces, and even sometimes their own men.
Then there's me, who possibly stumbled upon some sort of super-secret-stealth-black-ops-whatever-bull-shit that most shady organizations around the world do nowadays. It's... weird. I know I'm probably not supposed to be here, but at the same time, I could tell they just wanted to hurry up, so they let me tag along... at least until they decide I'm of no use anymore and just assassinate me while I'm sleeping. That, or throw me off their extraction.
I simply kept my mouth shut as I continued tagging along with them, M16A2 in hand, and another one on my back in case I was either disarmed by a lucky bullet or if someone needed a firearm in an emergency.
I kept my eyes alert, if there's anything training with the Initiative has told me, it's to always be aware of your surroundings, even if they're, say, a warzone where you can only focus on a few things at best.
My head turned left and right, gripping the rifle tighter with each movement I made. I was ready to shoot anything that dared pop its head out in front of me. Except not really. I ran the risk of accidentally turning everyone against me, so ROE is still in effect. Still, though...
However, in my rampant paranoia, I heard something that was very distinctive to me. Sounded a lot like... heavy footsteps. Lots of them. I could tell they were probably wearing slightly heavy gear. Probably not firearms.
I stopped in my tracks and scanned the area around me, pointing my rifle at just near about anything.
"Do you guys hear that?" I asked, ready to shoot.
"Hear what?" One of them said, a hooded guy whose face I couldn't tell. If I were to bet a few dollars on something, it'd be that this guy is leading the group... or something like that.
"Footsteps." I said, though I wouldn't normally be able to hear footsteps in an urban jungle, I could this time around. Definitely, something's off over here.
"What?" The guy in the hood said, confused. The rest of the group was about to look at me as though I'd gone crazy... at least until someone with peculiar ears, probably donkey or horse, noticed them too.
"...Doctor, I think he's right. I hear them too." She said, preparing what appeared to be her weapon. A staff of some sort. If it wasn't for me being confused as hell, I would've just broken down chuckling at the sight of using a staff to defeat enemy soldiers. Buuut, since I am in the middle of hell, I can't really call people crazy right now. That'd be hypocritical of me considering my predicament... haha.
Soon, everyone else started agreeing after they heard those footsteps. They grew louder and louder, almost as though there were hordes just ready to ambush the entire goddamn group without so much as a note on the nightstand telling them they were about to get ambushed.
"Everyone, take positions! We might be walking into an ambush!" The woman up front yelled, and everybody scrambled, taking positions either behind cars, out in the open, or just straight up behind the frontlines of it all. Then there was me, with nowhere to go... ah screw it. I got behind the Doctor guy, who was still being as mysterious as always. I positioned my rifle to cover the area where we expected the ambush, setting it on top of a car rooftop. Hopefully, balancing the recoil this thing could ever have.
I positioned myself and flipped the fire selector to burst fire. I was ready for anything to pop out...
And pop out anything did.
Several men in white uniforms, with white masks, suddenly flooded the streets, all of them armed with what appeared to be melee weaponry. Or if you're more familiar with the weapon, cold weaponry. Some were using swords, others, clubs, some weren't even armed at all and were just using their fists. They all appeared to be wearing an armband with some sort of logo on them, possibly the logo of the group they're affiliated with. And out front was their leader, who looked like he was about to say something to the group.
Without thinking twice, I immediately opened fire with my rifle, aim directed towards what appeared to be the leader of this group. I mean, he was out front, he had a slightly different uniform, and was carrying a shield alongside his melee weaponry, so he should've been the leader, yeah?
The guy was knocked back as three rounds of 5.56 bullets pierced his flesh, falling to the ground dead. The hollow point rounds expanded underneath his skin too, so he was definitely suffering immense pain from simple 5.56 HP rounds. You know, if there's anything I'd ask, it'd be 'why can't people stop whining about hollow point already'? The round was authorized for use by the Initiative, and no, it does not cause 'unnecessary suffering'.
And again, without thinking, I went apeshit and opened fire on the rest of them, and let loose the fury of the Initiative's cheapest and most common infantryman, the Minigunner. So far, several more dropped dead after my sudden outburst with the rifle.
They returned fire, however. Several members had what appeared to be bows and crossbows, and opened fire on me. As soon as I saw those fucking things, I dove out of my firing line and into cover. The arrows which were fired at me landed just a few feet away from me, falling to the ground, broken or intact.
I got back up and continued firing at them, with subsequent hits either being lethal enough to kill them, or just enough to slightly knock them back. However, before continuing to open fire, I decided to take a look at what the rest of the team was doing... and some of them were also fighting, much to my surprise. Some stood out in the open, with a melee weapon and probably determination, I saw one guy with a shield standing out front, and I saw several positioned with what appeared to be ranged weapons... including the girl with the weird ears and the staff.
Shaking my head, I got back to opening fire at these people. More bodies piled up as my accuracy appeared to be improving, instead of bullets flailing around and hitting various parts of the body, I managed to hit several grunts in the chest without the bullets straying out and killing anything. HP rounds were guaranteed to be very painful, so I took pride in making these guys bleed.
However, my rampage was cut short by having to reload my goddamn gun, so I dove back into cover and took out the magazine of the gun, pulling a new one from my vest pockets, and cramming it inside the magazine well, before pulling back the charging handle and loading the damn weapon.
However, before I did that, I took a look at the Doctor guy to whom I positioned myself next to, behind all of the chaos. I took a look at him and I put down the rifle I was using earlier to get the spare rifle I got off my back.
I called for the attention of the Doc.
"Hey, doc!"
The man turned to me, surprised to hear someone calling for his attention at a time like this.
"Take this, you'll need it!" I shouted, throwing the M16A2 at him. He was surprised, but he caught it without it going off negligently. Good, the guy knew how to catch things without them falling.
"And this!" I handed three magazines from my vest pockets to the man, who took them.
"What's this for?" He asked, clearly confused as to what I was doing.
"It's a gun, use it!" I said, before taking the rifle I used earlier and popping out of cover.
I looked at him and called for his attention.
"Buddy! Here's how you use it!" I said, positioning the rifle at the top of the car and letting the rifle fire repeatedly.
"You position the rifle on top of the car to mitigate recoil, and pull the trigger!" I said, before getting back to my task at hand, which was opening fire on these people. Who were still going at it, much to my bemusement. I literally have an automatic rifle, and THEY'RE STILL TRYING TO SWARM US?! JESUS CHRIST, IT'S LIKE FIGHTING OVER A MINOR STRIP OF LAND, LIKE A DAM!
The Doctor appeared shaken and confused by this sudden display, but he shook it off and decided to try and copy me.
He positioned the rifle at the top of the car and pulled the trigger, probably knowing how guns work in some way, thankfully.
"Aim down the sights! Don't waste any shots!" I shouted before going back to filling these people with GDI-certified and prescribed hollow point lead rounds, he was certain these would cause immense pain or probably death. Ah well, better than nothing.
Aiming like a marksman, I shot several more of these people straight in the head with the rifle. Whether it came to clean, precise shots, or chaotic staccatos of burst fire, whatever the case, I still performed well. I was proud of myself for that, certainly better than some people who just spray and pray they hit something. Sometimes, I envy the bastards who managed to pass Commando training, as they couldn't waste more than one round just to kill someone.
Ah well, no crying over milk from a foreign land being spilled.
More burst fire came from the Doc, who most certainly didn't know how to stop wasting rounds, but he was trying his best. Taking time, selecting targets, and unloading the bullets. He seemed to get the hang of a firearm, which was a blessing considering most armed civilians only hurriedly grabbed their weapons, not even bothering to aim properly and just wasted ammunition. I'd definitely give this Doc a 5/5 rating in the medicinal practice of euthanasia.
I'd been returning fire, however, I wanted to move somewhere closer to the enemy so I could stop them in their tracks. I leaned towards the edge of the car and started looking for where to slip out to. I found a pile of rubble that some other members of the group were hiding behind, and without thinking, I sprinted towards them while keeping my head low, just in case any of these people had guns or more arrows intended for me.
I immediately dove into cover as soon as I knew that the rubble was near me, and I grabbed my rifle.
Without looking at all, I blind-fired my M16A2 rifle, with the recoil spreading my gunfire around, and I was sure I heard people scream as bullets flew over them, or just before they got shot. Probably almost hit a few friendlies, that or just battlefield shitfuckery going on.
Popping my arm out again-
"FUCK!"
I let out a scream as I feel a stabbing pain where my arm would be, and I pull back my rifle to examine the source of the pain...
Oh. That was why.
A fucking arrow was lodged into my arm, probably some lucky fuck who thought they were so goddamn lucky just because they pulled off a maneuver that could basically be called bullshit in most communities. Well, fuck you then.
Arm still bleeding, I popped my head out of cover and started controlling my shots rather than wildly firing and hoping that something hits. Aiming and holding my breath, I took my time to examine target after target.
One was about to charge at one of the group members with a sword, trying to be a hero. One trigger pull... and bang. That guy slumped to the ground harder than me after I finally take a break from fighting in the middle of nowhere. I switched targets again and discovered someone about to reload a crossbow. Now, I hate crossbows due to the bleeding arm, so out of spite, I aimed at his lower area and fired three bursts. Three. Bursts. Not one burst of three rounds, but three bursts. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the second burst off before he slumped dead. Fucking idiot.
And another target to lock onto, this time, I opted for a more center-mass shot and aimed at the chest area. Boom, dead.
The fighting continued on, with me personally witnessing some of them resorting to stabbing them with cold weapons just so that these white-colored idiots could finally fall dead. I have contributed to the effort myself if I were to be saying something. I'd killed quite a few of these people myself, but... bleeding arm... yeah, forgot to bring that to attention. Eh, then again, GDI Minigunners know how to withstand pain. Even when biochemical weapons are used, some Minigunners just don't die. It's awesome, as sometimes, the Pawn outlasts the King. Yipee.
The group reorganized itself and were surprised to see the Doctor lugging around the rifle I gave him. I've heard murmurs among some of the group, something about infected. Infected with what, NCID? Nah, Nah, that's too unrealistic. Even for me.
"Doctor, that was some amazing shooting." One of the people in the group said, holding a pistol in her hand.
The Doctor nodded, and I was pretty sure he smiled underneath that damned hood. I could feel the sickeningly sweet smile from the guy. Contrasts with me who's dealt with Commanders who just won't stop being dumbfucks sometimes.
"Thanks, I just followed the newcomer's instructions." The Doctor said, before looking at me. Followed by literally everyone else looking at me, probably in awe or something less benevolent. I'm not sure, I was shit with reading people's expressions anyway.
"So you taught him how to use a gun in the middle of combat?" The pistol-wielding woman said, kinda... curious? I think, I don't know how to read.
"Yeah. Didn't give him a lesson though. Just told him the basics, and told him to not waste any shots. That and try to mitigate the recoil." Expressing myself, I also raised my shoulders.
"It was a good lesson then." The pistol-wielding woman said one last time before taking her attention away from me.
Hey, I mean, I kinda witnessed the guy's handiwork. Good shooter if you asked me, hell, I'd give him top marks in a shooting competition. Commando training would probably help him too, actually.
As that's finished, the rest of the group gather around, and then begin their travels once again. This time, with the Doctor and me serving as some more ranged infantry. Never know when you'll need that rifle with you.
The woman in front begins to say something. "Based on our current planned route, we should be approaching a central area of South Chernobog. We'll arrive at the RV point after we cross the park. Assuming no contingencies are put into place, Nearl and Team E4 should be waiting for us there." She says, looking at a map. Okay, so, this place is called Chernobog. Alright. Sounds like a place down from the Russian Confederation*.
Another man, probably a miscellaneous member of the group, interjects with a concerned tone. "But... If Nearl was attacked on our way there, then what do we do? They might have their communications jammed and could not inform us. How in the hell do we deal with that?" The guy brought up some good points, even if I never understood half of the conversation.
The woman stops, and looks at him dead in the eyes. Then she responds rather harshly. "We shall be the judge of that."
The guard just retreats back with his only reply being "Oh... roger." before going silent. Must be a very harsh woman.
One of the other members, a big guy with a shield, interjects as well. "Don't speculate too much. Paranoia can overtake people."
I just felt like interjecting as well, speaking from experience. "It's significantly more dangerous to lose morale on the way to complete an objective than it is to lose after completing that objective. Just follow the woman, and don't speculate too much." I can actually say that with some honesty, as I once had my aircraft squadron panic after they lost communications with a local outpost. Turns out they were experiencing interference problems, but still, it hurt morale of the squad. Some people just don't know how to control their emotions.
The guard responds with a simple "I... I see." before yet again staying completely silent.
The woman, who I just now remembered was named Dobermann, sighed as she spoke about morale in a way that I would agree.
"It seems that lack of communications has caused morale to drop already. We have to pick up the pace. No point speculating with the Catastrophe looming over us." I nodded, even though I was just a tagalong.
Just as we were patrolling the place, with me privately wishing for nuclear hellfire instead of cold dampness, a mist envelops the group.
Confused as fuck, I scrambled to grab my rifle, and I'm pretty sure the Doc also scrambled to ready his rifle.
I heard Dobermann's voice amongst the chaos.
"Ugh... What's with this haze... Could it be-" She's interrupted as chaos begins to erupt around us in the form of crossbow fire. "WATCH OUT!" I hear her say just as I dive for cover.
Just when things couldn't get worse, I heard something among the smoke.
"KILL THEM!"
And so, chaos.
Pvt. Alvin S. Payne - Camp Tiber - September 29, 1995
With all the energy I could muster just to spare a few words, I shouted.
"What?!" HOW IN THE HELL DID WE LOSE CONTACT WITH THE OTHER CAMPS! WASN'T RIVERBED LITERALLY NOISY ON COMMS?! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?! EVEN GDI COMMUNICATIONS ARE BUILT TO WITHSTAND STORMS WORSE THAN THIS, HOW IS THIS SUDDENLY CUTTING OFF COMMUNICATIONS WHEN MOST GDI BASES HAVE FORTIFIED COMMAND CENTERS?! FUCK'S SAKE!
The Sergeant inhales deeply, before letting out. "If you want to take a look for yourself, Private, come in. It's not looking too good." The Sarge says, before opening the Communication Center's doors.
Greeting me was none other than the Sergeant, dressed in Desert Six-Color, with a UN Peacekeeping hat on his head. The tan-colored cap with the white letters 'UN' being displayed upon it gives you the sense that this isn't just America's duty, it's everyone's duty.
I stepped into the Communications Center, and the Sergeant just motioned for me to follow him.
"I'll bring you to the commander if you want to know about the situation so much." He said, walking off, probably to show me where the commander is. Normally the guy just sits behind cover and doesn't do anything, but it seems that this time that he's probably in here. Awesome. Or maybe the Sarge is just trying to shoot me in the back of the head once I follow him... hopefully that doesn't happen in the army, but it happens in Chicago.
Immediately walking briskly behind the Sergeant, I slowly followed him as I passed by several UN and Nod Comms Officers panicking and issuing orders in an overlapping cacophony of noises and pure noise.
"What do you mean we lost contact with the 33rd Infantry Division?!"
"Beta 3, status report!"
"Charlie 5, report back findings to HQ."
"Acolyte 1, find missing Bradley ASAP."
That's how desperate shit's become, just a few minutes after the storm subsides, too.
I continue following the Sergeant, before taking a turn and seeing a stairwell, with a sign saying 'Planning Room' on it. I followed the Sergeant, and kept my hand on the railing. It may be an indoor place, but you never know when you're going to need to cling onto the stairway rails. Those things are all you need for OSHA to approve of your design, even if it makes no fucking sense.
Following the Sergeant, I ask him a question.
"Sir, have there been any attempts at raising GDI Global Operations HQ?"
"Multiple. None of them got any response."
"Why didn't you just say so?"
"Didn't want to cause a drop in morale just because I told them we couldn't send messages to GOHQ." And with that, the conversation was finished. And I decided not to press into that further. Hand still on railings, I made my way up until we finally found the planning room, also known as the room where idiots meet to discuss their dumbass strategies to win wars.
"GOHQ is a no-go." I heard a voice, clearly Chinese, say something. "Have you tried raising Temple 1?" Another voice, this time French, spoke. "No, Temple 1 was unreachable. All attempts ended in static and no response. Not even morse code."
"Fuck. What about the other GDI or Nod camps?"
"For GDI ones, we can't contact Riverbed, for starters. That puts us at a risk. And for Nod ones, well, we managed to reestablish contact with Outpost 14, but that's 0.5 kilometers away from the base, so they were discovered. The rest are unknown to us."
"Well, shit." I heard someone toss a pencil and sigh.
"I agree. Everything's already growing bad with NCID, now this?"
As I finally finish walking the stairwell, the Sergeant tells me an important detail that I totally missed. Totally.
"These are the Commanders. Reminder not to fuck up around them, or they'll subject you to an ass-chewing that even you wouldn't be able to withstand."
I nodded, and finally ascend out of the stairwell.
Immediately, the first people I'm greeted by are a Chinese General, complete with a gray-and-black-colored peaked cap with the Scorpion tail on it, and a French General, with a tan-colored helmet with the UN insignia, emblazoned onto it.
As the two commanders start listing off places they lost contact with or reestablished contact with, the latter mostly outposts, the Sergeant and I approached them.
The Sergeant coughed and caught the attention of the two commanders.
"Ahem. Commanders, the Grunts are already wondering what's the holdup. You might want to spill the beans already." The Sergeant says, almost challenging the Commanders.
However, they simply nodded their heads. "Can't keep up the illusion anymore... Then again, the illusion was just confusion." The Chinese guy says, shrugging.
The French General sighed. "A GDI Peacekeeper's already asking questions, great..." And he hit his face with his palm, clearly out of embarrassment.
The Chinese man turned to me and asked me a question. "Would you like the short version or the long version?"
Understandably having a taste for curiosity, I picked an option that would satisfy me the most.
"The long version." I said, audibly making the French General groan in frustration. As much as I don't like prying into Command's competence, I have to ask.
"Well, it's a long way to go, so, here's what happened immediately after the storm..."
And with that, adventures await.
Even if they're going to be painful as fuck.
Notes from Payne:
Russian Confederation - Presidential Democratic State formed after the collapse of the USSR and its occupation of Europe during the 1950s. The Russian Confederation has always been a loyal backer of the United Nations and the Global Defense Initiative, being one of the biggest manpower and equipment suppliers, just below the United States of America, which was known as the 'Arms Dealer of the Free World'. It is restricted by a neutral government and Article 55, an article that prohibits the Confederation from declaring offensive wars or acting belligerently.
Author's Notes:
FUCK! Sorry about this, I know I promised to deliver a chapter ASAP, but let me explain what happened in an abridged manner. I suffer with laziness episodes a lot. And it gets so bad where I neglect my own big projects just to take a rest and play some games. However, sometimes, willingly, I overextend my laziness and just neglect to do anything important, including writing my own stories, which gives me the objective of rushing it out in time. It's a daunting task, and one I don't like.
Right, before I close these off, let me say several things. One, this TD scenario takes place post-USSR victory, however, after Stalin's death under mysterious circumstances involving hot beverages and the NKVD, the USSR and its occupation territories collapse hard as a scramble for power initiates an internal collapse within the USSR. The resulting consequences include the Russians launching a coup and transforming their country as a Confederation rather than a communist state, before eventually joining GDI. This also means that the Allied Nations has canonically lost. RIP.
On tech level, the GDI and Nod forces in this story will have a varying level of tech taken from other games. While later on, they will probably improve upon their basic designs, right now they're a weird mix of canon Tiberian Dawn, real-life weaponry, and some antique Red Alert tech repurposed by either the UN or the Brotherhood. During WW2, the tech level was a mix of RA1 and RA2, with the Allied Nations having prism weaponry, while the Soviets obtain cloning vats, which are lost to time after Stalin's death. This means you'll be seeing Prism Tanks from the Allied arsenal appear later on in the story, including Prism towers. Also, there'll be other craft there too, such as A-10s, Harriers, and C-130s from both sides.
And then there's the dilemma about gameplay mechanics. Now, normally I wouldn't really care for this, but since this is literature, I have to take a stance on it. The official explanation is that money, or credits, are earned by transforming natural earth resources, or ore, into broken-down material that can be used by both sides, in this case, credits. These credits are used to finance the construction of buildings, vehicles, ships, and aircraft. This means that quite a bit of gameplay is canon, so expect GDI to start making a few more Abrams tanks, just in case. What they just can't construct with money though is manpower, so they'll make some fair use of Drones when they can.
Well then, off I go. I'll try to overcome my lazy episodes and continue writing, but until then, farewell.