Operation Black Dawn
Mission 8 - KILL! KILL! KILL!
September ? - 1995/1097
Ninety-one minutes after mass Disappearances of GDI and Nod Forces.
"I am the future."
- 'Kane', the alleged leader of the Brotherhood of Nod.
Private Andrus J. Harma - (Formerly) Camp Riverbed - Dated September 29, 1995
I hurried to rush to assist the other team, shielding the parent and her kid at the same time. I looked out of place compared to the GDI team I accompanied in the APC. I was the only asshat wearing black-and-white urban camo with a black helmet while the others wore at least a tan helmet. Ah well, the parent and her kid are going to have to save their questions for later, because we've got a team to save. I rationalized that to myself at the very least.
"Red Team, report, over!" I shouted into the radio, while making a mad dash for the direction where the gunfire got louder and louder. The civvies, however, had to cover their ears as I turned back to look at them. They probably aren't used to continuous amounts of automatic shots. What can I blame them for, honestly? I've seen civvies that panic and flee when they hear gunshots.
I moved my hand in a "GO, GO!" fashion. They kept their backs behind me.
I soon realized that they're probably going to have ear damage if I don't remedy that in time, so I rifled through my vest and grabbed two pairs of standard-issue earplugs. The thing with these was that these came with the uniform as standard issue, but they usually never were used. Technically, they came in one pair only, but the APC came with them, so I took them for the sake of doing so.
I turned to them, and stopped, before presenting them with the two earplugs.
"Put these in your ears, it'll save you from the ringing." I said, before using body language by moving my hand to mimic putting earplugs inside your ears. It seems the adult and the kid got it fairly quickly, as they put on the earplugs just after I told them to.
I smiled, before turning back around and continuing, with the kid and mother still trailing behind me.
After doing that, the radio finally came back with Red Team's response. Just after I had to teach a kid and her mother how to not get military-grade tinnitus.
"This is Red Team, we're still holding on!" was the response I got, with automatic gunfire as well. The typical, to be honest. "Fucking slugs almost got to us, but we're still holding on! SHIT! ARE THOSE-" Was all I heard before an explosion rocked the background. I got no 'sorry for that' type of messages after that, which led me to the most logical action anyone could take when being faced with this kind of shit.
"Red Team, report! Goddamn it, report!" I said, before getting nothing but radio silence. I screamed, as the grunts stopped.
"What the hell happened?!" An IJA Peacekeeper said, panting and recovering his breath.
"Did Red Team just get bombed?! OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE?! WHERE THERE AREN'T EVEN ETA* BOMBERS?!" One of the Portuguese Peacekeepers said, almost ready to drop his rifle and die inside. I couldn't blame him, after all we've been through, and just to hear Red Team kick the bucket because of bombers. That would've actually made me so pissed off I'd be able to generate cash if I was a monetary source.
"Well, shit," I said, throwing my hands in the air. "If Red Team's gone, then what the hell are we supposed to do?" I asked, selectively ignoring the fact that we didn't confirm their fate. Because I could hear gunfire restarting after that, but just waited for a response.
"We just continue on, dumbass!" One of the Russian peacekeepers said, loading his AK-64M*. "We don't know if they just lost comms or if they're dead you jackasses. Sure, we risk facing other threats, but is it really part of the Initiative if we just ABANDON OUR ONLY ALLIES LIKE THAT?!" He burst out into shouting by the second area of his speech. To be honest, I was also pretty stumped until I heard his absolutely rational and totally not risky speech. I mean sure there was a chance of us getting killed, but that's just war, my guy. Everything dies. Including innocence, hopes, dreams, and the morale of CEOs as they realize that the military basically stole their patents and make the profit, not the company.
Eat your heart out, Lockheed-Martin.
"Well, let's go!" I ordered, again. Despite knowing that we'll probably get killed. If I were to switch to my native Estonian, I'd probably go screaming loudly. But I'd rather not do that, for one, it'd startle the civvies we vowed to protect, two, it'd attract unneeded attention to us, causing us to suffer a Team Red moment, and third, it's just plain rude to do that to a fellow Minigunner. Within the Initiative-Brotherhood coalition, after days of being stuck in joint bases, being rude to one another was generally frowned upon. And I'd rather not risk getting my throat slit in my sleep, then my body being cut up and eaten.
So, without further due, I ordered the civvies to continue following me and not letting go. Hopefully they got that, as they seem to have nodded their heads and followed the rest of the team. I decided to make it there as quick as possible, so I ended up having to sprint there, which also got the troops to sprint with me. And hell, even the civvies joined in. Clearly they either want some exercise or they're not willing to risk death out in the open. Whatever, man. It's their choice, after all.
After all, it was I who chose to join this damn mission in the first place. All thanks to Payne's nagging.
Speaking of Payne, I wonder how he's doing. He seemed unwell with that cough, and I'm pretty-
Just then, I felt something in my throat itch. Then it let itself out as a cough, which went away, but then later came back as a really hard sneeze. One that I prepared for my pulling my balaclava down just as I sneezed.
As I looked upon my gloves, what I was met with was bloodied snot. And by bloodied, I mean a large portion of it was blood.
And there were...
Oh shit.
There were bits of black crystal all spread out the snot. And bits of green crystal, too.
"What the..."
Widowed Parent Padaung Kayah - Kawthoolei Village - Dated September 29, 1097.
She looked upon the man in white and black, who had just sneezed, before wiping something off his hands and continuing his way, sprinting at such a speed that would make the most determined of the village. She pondered back, going back to memories before the Catastrophe had hit the village, and this was the one that wiped it all away. She wasn't surprised if she already got infected. After all, there were patches of crystal all around her, some that covered skeletal remains. Not that the men she introduced herself to, with a fake name, mind you, seemed to care. They only wanted to complete their objectives.
Her child was also trying to keep up the pace. She practiced athletics before, and was about to compete in the local tournament before... well, the Catastrophe shattered her hopes for that. Kayah remembered the first time she saw her child panicking as the catastrophe hit. Her friends begged to be let in, and her father was out protecting the rest... then, silence. They remained there for about half a week without food.
At least until the men showed up. The men in tan, and the men in gray, both of them were apparently part of the same organization to the point where their soldiers shared orders, despite the heavy differences between them. From what she's heard, they all collectively spoke the same language despite the different flags. And some of them wore tan helmets, while another one of them wore gray. The tan helmets had the words 'UN' painted on them, and from what she saw, 'United Nations' was written on the side of some of the helmets.
Now, the gray ones she never managed to identify, but they sure did not share that with the 'UN' troops.
She came to the conclusion that bar the ones in gray, the ones in tan were part of a federation of sorts, as is the case with places like, say, Columbia. The CU was technically a bunch of small states, all answering to one united flag.
Speaking of which, while details like this are pretty minute, she did notice that alongside what was supposedly their national flags, the men had a dark blue flag on top of it. It was a circle, with lines over it and weird shapes, outlined by a white circle, with a laurel wreath and five stars on top of it in a curved arrangement. Presumably, that was the flag of their 'UN'.
Now, with those details out of her head, she continued to run until she remembered something. She didn't have a tool to defend herself, so it took her a minute of thinking while running, but she did stop to ask the man in gray running in front of her.
"E-Excuse me, sir? Do you have anything I could defend myself with?!" She asked, as the ringing in her ears slowly declined with the plugs that were given to her. Normally, these would have no use, but considering her situation and the fact that she wasn't willing to meet what made those loud cracking noises without protection, she was thankful for them.
The man in gray simply turned around, stopping for a bit.
Immediately, he turned around and gave her...
...A gun. Are you fucking serious?! It wasn't even one of those Sankta 'rifles' that actually seemed to be good. Nope, it was one of those tiny ones!
"Here's two magazines! Don't waste these rounds, they're for self-defense!" He says, before handing out two magazines, and then teaching her how to load with physical movements that included smacking his hands together and pulling something imaginary, which she did so. And now the gun was loaded. If she had any other ideas, she would've shot the man for giving her such an insulting weapon. She didn't become the village's top security for nothing!
...Then again, that can't be flaunted around with how the world looked around her.
Sometimes she wished that the Catastrophe never happened, but that's not her business. That's just Terra's business, apparently. And business is booming.
Well, it was better than nothing, she rationalized. Even if the weakest gun was given to her, at least it could be able to at least scratch the flakes off a regular slug.
And after a while of sprinting, the soldiers turned somewhere, and the noise that she covered her ears for just got louder. They seemed to be close, she noted.
And as she turned around, she was treated to a sight that was simultaneously awe-inspiring and terrifying.
An army of Originium Slugs, all approaching a building that had bright flashes and loud cracking pierce through it. If she had to guess, this was where the rest of the men were.
"Blue Team, assist Red Team!" She heard, even with the plugs. The cracking, which she later connected to guns, seemed to stop until someone had the idea of pulling out their rifle and firing.
The men that she followed soon entered a building, and she followed.
When she was inside, she saw many dead Originium slugs, all crystallized due to death, and what seemed to be traces of effects caused by Acid slugs and Originium-enhanced slugs. She fought them in previous catastrophes, but not to this extent. Although, alongside that, there were many other men, including some with tan and gray helmets, all firing at the slugs that seemed to not stop.
She decided to join in, as thanks for the men, or, soldiers, who rescued her.
She poked out of a window that wasn't guarded by the soldiers, and grabbed her gun.
She pointed it at the direction of a slug that seemed to advance upon her direction. Without any further thoughts in her head, she fired.
The gun, much to her surprise, wasn't as weak as she thought. It killed the slug with one hit. She celebrated internally, although she did hear a comment about "WHO GAVE A CIVILIAN A GUN?!" from somewhere. She didn't care, she was just trying to contribute to the defense.
As she shot another slug, and another, and another... She wondered, was the slug problem going to end?
And if so, how soon?
Potpukovnik Đavo 1 - Skies of Italy(?) - Dated September 29, 1995.
"This is Đavo One, we're ready to take on anything." I said, flipping over the instruments. I was one of the many pilots lucky in the Yugoslav Air Force to get a GDI-upgraded Longbow, which was quickly refitted before we were called in to assist the Search-Aid-Rescue teams. The Apache has had a long history of service with the Yugoslav Air Force due to its surplus availability and its modularity as a helicopter. The thing's 30mm autocannon and missile pods have proven to be hell for any fool idiotic enough to mess with the air power of Nod. And considering its origins with GDI, it's not surprising.
My gunner looked back at me with a thumbs-up as I moved the helicopter in formation with other aircraft called in to assist the guys over at the supposed location of Riverbed. Other aircraft that were with this reinforcement formation were, in order; two Allied Air Force AC-130 Harbinger* gunships, an IDAP UH-60 Blackhawk formation carrying armed IDAP HEAU units, a People's Liberation Army Z-22 Dragon* formation, a Tokyo Pact CH-47J Chinook formation, an IDAP C-130J duo, another Brotherhood Apache formation, and a United States Air Force A-10 squadron.
I flipped on the radar, and on the screen, I saw the signatures of the United Nations aircraft, the Brotherhood aircraft, and IDAP's aircraft too. They all had... interesting combinations of callsigns and squadron names. While some had both interesting and tactical callsigns and squadron names, some had an absurd callsign but good squadron name, vice versa... and sometimes you have both.
"All callsigns, check-in." Our AWACS, Oka Nieba of the Russian Self-Defense Force, had checked upon us.
"This is Strider Squadron, checking in." One of the Harbingers responded. "Callsign Falcon, we're approaching the target. Out."
"This is Hunter Squadron, checking in." The IDAP Blackhawk duet responded. "We go by Callsign Eagle-Eye, on our way to the target. Out."
Those callsigns and squadron names were actually really good, I thought to myself as they sounded off and introduced themselves. Hopefully, the others would change their callsigns for the sake of not humiliating themselves.
Nevermind, I thought to myself, as they began to speak.
"This is... Yin Squadron, of the PLAAF." A Z-22 Pilot spoke up. "Callsign is 'Chumbucket'. Target shall be eliminated swiftly and efficiently. Out."
"SPARE SQUADRON REPORTING IN!" A CH-47 pilot spoke up really loudly, with a thick Japanese accent detectable from the English. "OUR CALLSIGN IS; 'SQUID GAME'! OUT!" Wait, what?
Then, another row of pilots coming to introduce themselves, I really hoped that they would not fall into the pitfall of dumb callsigns.
Unfortunately, they fell into the pithole of dumb squadron names instead.
"HOWDY, GUYS AND GALS, THIS IS SHITFUCK SQUAD!" I hear loud yelling from the C-130Js in a thick Texan accent break through my radio. Ow. "OUR CALLSIGN IS 'APOTHECARY' AND DON'T YOU DARE FORGET THAT, FOLKS! OUT!" Well, that was just your average Texan.
"Hello. This is Dumbshit Squadron." The other Apaches spoke, definitely of an Egyptian pilot leaked through the radio. Much more soothing than what I just heard. "Callsign is 'Sphinx'. Don't ask. Out."
And the last one, oh boy. The last one was just pure fucking pain. Not the voice, no, the voice sounded cool. The callsign and squadron name, however...
"This is Shitcunt Squadron." The A-10 squadron introduced themselves. "And I go by the callsign of 'Poopoo 1'. Don't question it, out."
And I was the last one to introduce myself.
"This is Đavo Squadron. Callsign is 'Autocannon'. Out." I said, wanting to end it quickly and as fast as possible.
"Let's do this." Oka Nieba said, as the formation began to bolt straight towards the location of what was supposed to be Camp Riverbed.
"Okay, so, here's the situation; our SAR teams have encountered a large amount of hostile wildlife in this village occupying the space of Riverbed." The AWACS said, datalinking the formation and giving it a radar-mapped 3D view alongside a strategic top-down view through other monitors. "We have detected a spike in activity, possibly coming from this building here." The views panned to a house that was covered in black crystals.
The AWACS then announced its orders to the formation. "Spare Squadron, Hunter Squadron, and Shitfuck Squadron. You are to deploy infantry and vehicle reinforcements to this location, where our troops are located." It panned to a house where blinking signatures of GDI and Nod troops strobed in both the radar-mapped view and the top-down view. The response our AWACS got was "Roger that."
"Yin Squadron, you are to secure the airspace against any air treats." Oka Nieba said, receiving a "Yes sir!" from the Chinese PLAAF squadron. "Strider Squadron, Dumbshit Squadron, and Đavo Squadron. You are to mop up the area of any remaining wildlife. And Shitcunt Squadron, you are to provide close air support to the troops as well. Use Napalm and White Phosphorus at will. Oka Nieba, out." The AWACS then closed communications, and the formation broke off to do their own things.
In particular, Shitfuck was gaining altitude, going higher, while Spare and Hunter were staying at reasonable heights. Yin broke off to patrol the airspace against any potential air threats, and the rest of us combat aircraft were going in with overkill and a horrid amount of ammunition.
"This is Apothecary, we're deploying the Noddies and GDI troops! Down, down, and away!" One of the C-130s of Shitfuck Squadron opened their doors, and from what I saw it, legions of GDI and Nod troops all performed a HALO jump. I saw GDI troops and Nod troops parachute down, some armed with rocket launchers, some with regular rifles, and the Noddies were smart enough to bring buncha Flamethrower troops with us, to take care of any biological threat.
"AH- AH! SHIT!" I heard my radio pick up a signal, as I see one of the Nod Paratroopers get blown away by the wind. "THIS IS CORPORAL ROBERTS, I'VE BEEN BLASTED AWAY FROM THE PARATROOPER FORMATION- ARGH, FUCK!" was what I heard and saw, as a Nod paratrooper, a flamethrower one too, struggled and got blown away by the wind. I couldn't do much to help him, as did the other pilots.
"HELP ME! HELP! AAAAAAAAAAAA-" My radio picked up before total silence reigned. We just got our first casualty. I had to announce that. "This is Autocannon. We lost one. A Noddie lost control of his HALO jump and fell to his death." I said, before the responses I got were very negative. "FUCK!" I hear Apothecary say. "Not much we can do now, Poopoo 1 out." I heard the A-10 say. And I had to agree with him. "Well, nothing we can do now." I just had to hammer it in. "Ah goddamnit..."
As the others managed to parachute to safety, it was just us CAS craft. And the transport craft.
"This is Spare Squadron, Cats are out of the bag; I repeat, Cats are out of the bag!" I hear as I pick up the sound of tanks, medium and light, alongside AA guns, disembark from a Chinook that could fit all of that, before lifting away.
"This is Eagle-Eye. We've unloaded the troops, but we're loitering around to provide CAS. Out." I nodded my head. Looks like we are picking up the pace after all!
As the fight continued, we finally arrived at the visible area, and it became clear what we were dealing with.
What appeared to be hordes of slugs approaching on a base that had gunfire from within it was something to expect, in all honesty.
"This is Autocannon, we're the Cavalry. How many of you boys are inside that building?" I ask, over the radio, to the troops.
"Ah... we've not sustained casualties, but we were running out of ammo. Thanks for the save, man!" I hear a person with an Estonian accent say in the background, and that's when I nodded. "Alright. I guess we can start the party." I say, as part of my Apache folds to unveil large, jury-rigged speakers connected via Bluetooth* to some of my personal devices. I smiled, getting ready to start the party.
I moved to select one of my favorite tracks, which stuck with me even to this day.
F. K.'s "Kill".
Lyricless, but you could always get the theme even with just a melody.
"KILL!" I shouted, my speakers picking it up as "Kill" began playing.
And at that point, my gunner opened up with an autocannon spray. For this task, we loaded it with high-explosive ammunition, and it was tearing through these wild creatures like peanut butter! My gunner, who goes by the callsign of 'Prez' as an American Mercenary, laughed maniacally as she unleashed pure hell upon the poor, non-sentient things with glorious Nod 30mm autocannon goodness.
I joined in on the laughter too, as my gunner then opened up with rocket strikes while strafing these damn wild animals. The rockets were Hydra 70 rockets, unguided, but modular to all hell. In this instance, we cranked up the high-explosive to maximum, and while it would hypothetically be a safety risk due to damage, who cares?! We just want to make sure we kill as much as possible.
Autocannon shots and rocket strikes whizzed the poor slugs, and to make matters worse for our enemies... our friends joined in.
The Harbingers had entered the field. "This is Falcon. We're sending the finest gifts from Britain. Tell these slugs that these are our best regards. Falcon out." He ended that with a massive synchronized bombardment of the enemy with the 120mm particle collider howitzers, the 40mm particle collider autocannons with a weaker payload, and two 25mm autocannons all tearing apart at the signatures that just died on the spot under the might of the GDI Air Force.
Then the others had finally joined in. "This is Poopoo 1. Tell these little... pests that Willy Pete's a real person, and that Napalm sticks to trees. Adios, motherfuckers!" I heard Poopoo 1 say before they just dropped Napalm and WP bombs indiscriminately on these slugs, charring many of them to death. Some slugs tried to crawl away from the flames, only to die. While some blindly charged into the flames, only to die as well.
All was going well, and even splendid for us.
But...
"THIS IS CORPORAL ROBERTS! I'M STILL ALIVE, BUT I NEARLY IMPALED MYSELF ON A SPIKE!" The paratrooper from earlier said. "I PULLED THE DAMN THING IN TIME, AND I'M STRANDED FROM THE REST OF THE GROUP. I'M ON TOP OF A BUILDING, AND I'M SENDING MY LOCATION! GET ME OUTTA HERE!" I heard, before I decided to announce. "Shit, this is Autocannon. I've just received word the Paratrooper's alive. Falcon, you stay and mop up the rest. Poopoo 1, get the other Napalm and WP bombs ready. I'll be helping the para!" I said, before yanking the control stick to the right, where the location of the paratrooper was.
"This is Autocannon. We're coming to help. Find your way out of the building, and we'll get you out of there!"
"Roger, this is Roberts! I've got a door in front of me, and it seems to be the rooftop door! I'll try to get my way out of the building!" He announced, as I began to close into the building.
"SHIT! WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE THINGS?!" Were all I heard from Roberts before I heard the signature 'crisp' burn of a flamethrower echoing through the radio. "I'VE BURNED THEM OUT!" Roberts said, before I heard footsteps and then I heard a thud hit the floor. "Argh, I tri-HOLY SHIT GET BACK GET BACK-" Were all I heard again before a flamethrower 'crisp' and an explosion sounded in the radio. "WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE THINGS?!" He shouted, before getting up. "I'M SEEING A STAIRWAY- AND OF-FUCKING-COURSE IT'S BLOCKED!" I hear again.
"Burn down the obstacles!" I tell him, as I approach the building.
"Roger, doing that now!" I hear him turn on the flamethrower and the sound of burning objects.
"The stair railing's collapsed! I'll jump down from there!" He says, and I hear the thud of impact. He made it.
"WINDOW!" He shouted, before glass shatters in the background.
"Roberts, you there?" I ask, before getting a response.
"YEAH, I'M FINE! JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!" He says.
And I see the building, and over by the front door is Roberts himself. With a flamethrower, and smoke pouring from the railing.
The building was a simple two-story building. And the smoke suggests that he indeed used up a lot of the flame fuel for it.
No time for that, I say.
I lower down, and he expresses his exacerbation.
"A fuckin' Apache?" He asks, before I respond. "Just get on the sides. And put on your earplugs."
He does so, and bangs on the side after getting on it, holding on tight to a handbar just in front of the area where the jurry-rigged door-speakers go.
"I think I can call that a mission accomplished." I say, smiling. My gunner agrees, with a thumbs up and one last maniacal laugh, I turn off the music and go to meet with the GDI troops.
We did it, we saved our boys!
Twenty Minutes Later
Staff Sergeant D. Ornan - Besieged Battlefield - Dated September 29, 1995.
"What in God almighty happened here?!" I ask, dropping my rifle, as I stare at the sheer destruction our CAS had unleashed upon the poor slug bastards.
Someone apparently called in a fuckton of Apaches, TWO Harbingers, and an A-10 squadron, all to shut these slugs the fuck up. The damage they left on the battlefield was astounding, and surely, irreversible. Craters were everywhere, impacts of collider weaponry stayed throughout the battlefield, napalm still burned, and WP was slowly dissipating from the field.
I was shocked. All of this, just to kill some slugs?
Looks like I trained those Maggots well, especially after years of catching them without their uniform!
I go and meet the poor sorry bastards who got shoved into this operation. The IDAP and Humanitarian boys, who first landed before us, apparently helped them out with ammo and one of their chaplains even brought out an M60 machine gun to assist us. The humanitarians aren't fucking around, it seemed so. Those boys laid waste to whatever stood in their way. They have to be the biggest badasses I've seen.
Now, as I go to meet one of the squads, who apparently had the gall to identify as 'Dentist One' while the other SAR teams, all of whom made it here, at least had decent names.
"Well done, maggots!" I say, as I go high-five an Estonian soldier, who looked tired as shit.
"Thanks, Sarge." I hear one of them say. Ah, Alvin Payne, wasn't it? That's the maggot who often gave us back at boot camp trouble for his antics, but he toughened up and became a respectable Minigunner. He was a true testament to the efficiency of the GDI minigunner training, to be perfectly honest. And there was no other way to put it.
"So how was this op like?" I ask, wanting to ask, and handing a cigar to one of the soldiers.
"We rescued two civvies. Mother and child. We're going to bring them back. And figuring out what to do with them, since this place is wrecked to shit." Payne said, sighing.
"Well, that sure sounds like GDI to me, maggot." I said. "I'll go raise command about it, and see what they do with them."
"Thanks, Sa-"
The thanks was cut out by a violent coughing fit, then the Estonian guy I high-fived got it too. As did other GDI soldiers next to 'Dentist One'. They all began coughing violently, and I was just... there.
OH SHIT!
"HEAU!" I called into the radio. "WE'VE GOT A CONFIRMED NCID OUTBREAK! GET OUT OF THERE!" I ordered, as other GDI troops vacated the space Dentist One occupied, while IDAP HEAU staff, dressed in heavy hazmat suits, and armed with light machine guns, quarantined Dentist One off.
"Shit..."
Well, this is going to be very, very fucking messy.
Notes from Payne:
AK-64M - Developed as a response to the increasing age of the AK-45 within Soviet service, the AK-64M was developed in response. 5.56mm assault rifle, and standard-issue for RSDF soldiers and/or Minigunners.
ETA - Basque terrorist organization involved in the "Basque Wars" enveloping Spain, first starting off as a typical terrorist organization, then they obtained access to Italian WW2-era bombers and eventually, through the use of stolen MCVs, became one of the first terrorist organizations to have an officially defined military-industrial complex.
AC-130 Harbinger - WW2-era Gunship developed by the Allied Nations as a variant of the C-130 cargo plane that saw increased use within the Allied Nations, superseding the earlier AC-47 Spooky during the interwar. It uses outdated particle collider weaponry, initially one of the best weapons in WW2 but saw little development later on due to the suicide of Einstein, leaving it unchanged for years.
Z-22 Dragon - Chinese variant of the F-22 Raptor currently in service with other nations from the Brotherhood of Nod. Armed with multirole missiles and autocannons.
Bluetooth - Wireless technology designed to link two devices together. Entered civilian and military service in 1968, as part of a DARPA research project under the 'Bluetooth Special Activities Group'.
Author's Notes:
Hello, everyone! I am legitimately sorry I wasn't able to give actual ground combat, but hopefully I could make that up with many people's favorite scenes; a gunship rescue scene! And in case you're wondering if I snuck any jokes in... well, go find out for yourself. See which joke is which. I'll probably be able to reuse them in later scenes as a perspective from a grunt later on in the story.
And I decided on making the villager based on Burmese culture. My headcanon for that particular piece of lore is that it's an offshoot of Lungmen-born individuals who had their own subculture, the "Karen" peoples. And they moved to a lot of places, and unfortunately, GDI and Nod just happened to stumble upon one such village that had suffered a catastrophe. In case you're wondering if I made the Karen part up, go search it. I was surprised by it at first too.
Also, I've got school sucking me into a pitfall. So updates are infrequent and can range from rushed to slow as shit. Also, the Iberian peninsula will be relevant later on, at least, people, things, and organizations from the Iberian peninsula are going to be making an appearance.
And yes, I went immature with the names. Forgive me.
Well, that's all I can say. See you all later!