Operation Black Dawn

Mission 12 - Getting a Move-on

September 29(?) - 1995/1097

Ten Minutes after Mephisto's Retreat

"The United Nations Medic's Uplifting Primer dictates that headshots are to be treated usually by way cauterizing brain matter together. Slowly, the brain neurons will reconnect by way of human healing, and the patient will usually regain a part of their brain. However, another way is to shove the brain matter and let the brain reconnect itself. It's slow, but it works as long as you can cover the hole in your patient's skull."

- United Nations Medic's Uplifting Primer, 1993

WO1 Pyeong Chong-woo - Chernobog, ? - Dated ?, 1097.

"Scouting complete," Dobermann said. "I can confirm the rest of the enemies have been eliminated."

Nearl nodded as the rest of the team had finally outran their Reunion pursuers. Mostly after I tried to shoot at the bastard who was trying to camp and get potshots at RI. When we finally got out of there, we settled down for a quick chat and regathering of our bearings. I shut off the conversations going on around me as I was focusing on my head injury.

Then when they finished, they all turned to me with inquisitory looks.

I knew where this was going.

I sat down as the rest of the cavalry began to ask me questions, with my brain slowly reconnecting itself as I got a clearer awareness of my bearings. The Doctor took off my helicopter pilot helmet, and inspected the damage done to my head. With the head still bleeding even as I jammed my brain back into it, I thought it was safe to say something along the lines of 'fun fact, I'm still bleeding'.

"Who are you? What are you, and where did you come from?" The Doctor asked, letting go of my head and letting me put the helicopter pilot helmet I had back onto my head.

I just gave up at that moment trying to think with complex thoughts, so I just groaned and spoke my answers.

"Warrant Officer First Class Pyeong Chong-woo. United Nations Global Defense Initiative. Human, but born eastward." I brushed my uniform sleeve of dust as I spoke, and then continued. "Helicopter pilot of a helicopter that crashed out while doing a logistical mission. Co-pilot's dead, and I'm the only guy left." I stated as bluntly as I could.

Their shocked expressions dominated their face for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor said.

I shrugged, and sighed.

"No worries. It happens to most of us. Especially in the Initiative..." I mumbled, before giving explanations another go.

"And before you ask, no, I don't have anything special in me. I'm just a regular person." I reached around my uniform for my canteen, and seeing as I had it, I opened it up and drank from it. "Anyway, back to the questions."

"What exactly is the 'United Nations'? And why does it need a 'Global Defense Initiative'?" Dobermann asked, staring at me with an expression I felt all too familiar with.

Dealing with Staff Sergeant Dornan after he catches you taking a shit on the wall.

Not my experience, obviously, but still. I was too familiar with that look.

The squinted eyes, the iron expression, the tight grip on words to prevent outbursts...

I just had to answer.

"Long story short, the United Nations is, well, an intergovernmental and military alliance between four power blocs each comprised of several nations, with one bloc just being an entire nation. The Global Defense Initiative is its military and para-military arm, with each power bloc sending their respective armies into the Initiative." I began, sighing to let them take it all in.

"How many member nations does it have?" She continued. Probably interested to see its full military capability.

"Give or take the Initiative has at most a few hundred nations under its thumb. Some occupied by the Initiative itself, as is with Portugal, ruled by a United Nations mandate."

Dobermann's face twisted into one of confusion. With her eyebrow raising. She was about to ask a question but someone else got to her beforehand.

"What do you mean 'a few hundred'? Establishing nations that aren't mobile has been enough of a hassle as-is!" One of the Guards spoke, and the rest nodded in agreement.

And it was there where I also gave a look of confusion.

"I- wait, what?" I spoke, raising my confusion. "Hold on, mobile?" I asked. "Most cities and nations I've seen back at home weren't mobile."

That stunned the rest. Dobermann included.

"Wait. You don't have mobile cities?" She asked.

"No, ma'am. The United Nations has cities firmly entrenched to the ground ala Washington D.C. in the United States, and Seoul in the Republic of Korea." I clarified. Their confusion only grew as I mentioned these names.

"What's a 'Korea'?" The Doctor asked.

I kind of died inside at the question, but I straightened my face and answered. "There's two Koreas, sir," I responded, holding two of my fingers up. "The Democratic People's Republic of Korea - call them North Korea - and the Republic of Korea - call it South Korea," I put my two fingers down. "I come from the South. And I am a pilot for the Republic of Korea Army."

"Wait, there's two Koreas? How did that happen?" The Doc continued, and right there and then I wanted to spew about the Cold War and its circumstances, especially the Korean War, but I didn't dabble on that instead. I just chose to summarize it briefly.

"Long story short, a confrontation between two big superpowers back home."

"Alright then, but..." The Doctor paused, before tapping his chin, then asking. "Why are you over here if you were working for the 'Republic of Korea Army'?"

Then Dobermann interjected. "And I've never seen nor heard of any of the names you were mentioning. Tell me, where exactly are you from?"

I just had to be slightly honest and sort of twisting the truth.

"Camp Tiber, a UN supply base. I was out doing supply runs when I got shot down flying over here." I answered. "Tail rotor was unrepairable."

Dobermann nodded. She seemed like she was accepting of my bullshit, and that was what I needed the most. Someone to accept my bullshit.

"Alright. Are you able to contact your superiors though?" She asked one last time.

And it was at this time I remembered I had a radio after conveniently forgetting it for the last several fights.

"Shit, let me do that." I mentioned to them, grabbing the radio of my vest and putting it into my mouth.

It was here where I re-learned how to contact you guys. So much for pilot training, I fucking forgot that I had a radio. Jesus Christ, how the fuck was I this retarded? Call it misfortune all you want, but I might just be utterly stupid.

"By the way," One of the operators informed. "Are you fluent in Victorian? You sound like you're speaking old Victorian, minus the accent."

By Victorian, they meant English, as far as I could tell. So I nodded. "Yes, most United Nations soldiers are given En-err, Victorian lessons."

The operator nodded. "I see."

I turned over to take a look at the radio. Surprisingly it still worked after all the shit I put myself through. I set the frequency to the one that was always Command HQ.

Of course, to recount, Hino, that Frequency was 56.2.

Adjusting it to that, I turned on the radio and spoke into it, with the rest of the Operators looking at me while waiting.

"This is Warrant Officer First Class Pyeong Chong-woo. United Nations Global Defense Initiative. Service Number 104552. I'm stranded without any supplies or reinforcements, and my co-pilot was killed in action." I said, then added something the moment no response came in. "Command, please respond!" I begged.

At the time, I didn't know whether to continue my bets on going back alive or not.

Of course, the bet was foregone, Hino.

The Chernobog Salvation Rendezvous was created because of me, you know?

Brigadier-General Jean Fitzgerald - Camp Tiber - Dated September 29, 1995.

"See anything on the radar?" I asked, sipping from my cup of coffee as the communications center tried to reestablish contact with the world. The Communications officer could only shake his head in disappointment as the rest of the screens showed zero movement that wasn't from either the UN or the Noddie troops. "Nein. Zero movement as-is." He responded.

"Goddamnit," I put my coffee mug down and faced the radar screen. "No movements, no radio signals, no...?"

"Nein."

"Fuck." I had my palm meeting my face as the communications officer nodded in sympathy. "Agreed, sir."

"Merde, we're going to have to explore the world around us, yes?" I asked, my voice dragging on as I felt tired having to look at empty radars for hours and hours on end.

"Yes, we're going to have to launch expeditions if we want any progress on establishing any form of presence. I remember that we rescued a native woman and her child from the village, but..."

"Think we could ask anything from her?" I brought up, grabbing my cup of coffee and sipping from it yet again.

"Most definitely, but still, we could launch other expeditions too."

"That'll be on the list then." I finished, somewhat satisfied that we could at least get some vague idea of where we were. The place didn't look lively at all. With the ground gray, everything just looking dead and the reports of IAF and Nod troops saying things about the wildlife. There were, quote, 'slugs that looked like they had NCID on them' and usually fell to assault rifle bursts, SIDAM fire, and grenades.

When I went out for a brief moment to survey the area we found ourselves in, even I was shocked by how dead this place was.

It was as dead as my relationship with my ex-wife.

Also known as 'the one I made up for jokes'.

But regardless, with the dead landscape all around us and IDAP trying to find out what happened to the village we christened Camp Riverbed [II], things were looking to turn around in a different direction. And that was satisfying enough.

But as I thought of dreams to come and the presence of GDI as a legitimate peacekeeping organization...

"Sir! We have a radio transmission with GDI encryption and codes coming from an unspecified location! Signal pinpoints to a location an hour away!" Another communications officer turned to me, as shocked as I was.

"Patch it through!" I immediately shouted as I hurried over to the officer's location. Hell, even other Comms officers went to see the commotion and joined the first officer's location. Just to see where the radio transmission came from.

And when it came through, everyone's eyes widened.

"This is Warrant Officer First Class Pyeong Chong-woo," The radio crackled, much to the surprise of the of the communications officers. "United Nations Global Defense Initiative. Service Number 104552." That one affirmed to the rest of the communications team that there were other GDI members still alive. "I'm stranded without any supplies or reinforcements, and my co-pilot was killed in action." It was there where the rest of the people there had their eyes widen at the revelation.

"Command, please respond!" While they were dumbfounded, the missing Warrant Officer added in a cry for help. That really got them working.

Everyone in the communications center looked at each other as they were trying to figure out what to do with this information.

"...Should we?" Asked the officer, looking over to the pinpointed location of the signal, traced towards an area marked 'AREA UNEXPLORED' on the radar.

"Just get it through. I don't care how it's done," I slammed my mug down on the communications table, and then finished my sentences. "I want to know if that man is still alive by the time we can get to him!" I shouted.

The officer nodded. Patching the communications through.

"This is Camp Tiber, Warrant Officer Chong-woo, we read you loud and clear over." The officer said.

I smiled. We finally got something through. And this was our first opportunity to explore the wider world too.

I just wondered what was in store for us.

"Oh, shit! Command! It's good to hear from you!" I heard from the radio. "Right now I'm travelling with a group, we're making our way to an RV point. Can you keep tracking my location? And send reinforcements, please! We'll need those!"

I nodded and approved, turning towards to the officer and saying 'Approved'. While Yang was busy rebuilding the base, I had authority over GDI, which meant that my side of the faction was going to be sent to rescue a friendly of theirs.

The officer got the hint and spoke into the radio once more.

"Roger, Warrant Officer. We'll be alerting the QRFs." He responded. "Sending an AC-130 Harbinger, two Harriers, and the QRF team. Until then, sit tight and await extraction. We will alert you when extraction is nearby. Once we tell you they're nearby, throw down a smoke grenade to alert them of your location."

The voice behind the radio was relieved and probably conversing with the group he was with. "I'll get to that, Command. Just be quick, my group won't be around for long, so you better make this quick."

"We will, Warrant Officer," The officer smiled as he relayed that response. "Until then, sit tight. We'll be arranging a team to extract you."

"Hell yes. Warrant Officer Chong-woo, out."

"Roger that, out."

I grabbed my mug and looked at the communications officers congregating to the one officer who dealt with the Warrant Officer. Looking them in the eyes, I raised my free arm and waved.

"Get on it with it! Gather an AC-130, some Harriers, and get a QRF! We'll be getting one of our own out of the world! Plus, we could get some valuable lessons from their experiences!"

The officers all scrambled as they went back to their seats and began taking their communications headsets and putting them on, before issuing orders via PA System to the rest of the base.

"Let's get our boys out of there." I finished, sipping from my mug once again.

Then it finally ran dry.

Merde.

WO1 Pyeong Chong-woo - Chernobog, ? - Dated ?, 1097.

I put the radio down and cheered as Command had finally gotten back to me. At the time, I didn't expect to be able to reconnect to command again, but here I was. I supposed, at the time, that GDI radio networks were established. However, when you mentioned the Satellites still being up and connected to Radar, I knew that I was only saved thanks to satellite radio.

When my friends looked at me weirdly, I decided to spill it even though they probably heard me. "Fuckin' finally, I can get out of the city!" I shouted, putting the Radio back on my vest and turning to the rest.

"I just managed to get back into contact with my superiors. They'll be sending support in an hour, until then, we have to sit tight." I clarified. Dobermann appeared to be satisfied with the information I gave, and the Doctor was more than excited to find out that he'd be getting support. The rest, however...

"What do you mean 'in an hour'? We'll be dead if we-" One of the Guards tried to shout, but was quickly silenced by Nearl.

"Can it. We still have a long way to go until extraction. Until then, we keep going." She said, before turning to me. "I do not know to whom you work for, but I only hope that your support doesn't fire upon us the moment it arrives."

I nodded. "You have my assurances that the United Nations is faithful towards our promises." I said, and Nearl then nodded her head. "Good."

"Now, while we're moving..." The Doctor opened up while walking, turning his head to face my direction. "Could you tell us where you got this gun? Most people with arts have guns, but you appear to be uninfected." He stared at me as he inspected the M16A2 I gave him. It was this weird... scrutinization that I was subjected to.

I didn't know what they were talking about at the time, so I decided to keep quiet. "I'd prefer not to comment." I plead the fifth. Even though that was an American statement, the rest still took it, even if it made me look far more suspicious than I actually was. The team decided to shift the questioning environment to something else.

"How the fuck did you survive that? I saw you die!" The Medic shouted, with me trying to feel for the hole that was left in my head. I felt it, then put my hand away and laughed at her question. Just a slight giggle, really.

"I've survived far worse," I brush off, the exasperation of the team only increasing tenfold as though I had shat my pants. I decided to press on to establish myself because it was funny as hell. "Like getting shot several times in the heart, just barely made it out alive."

Of course, the Medic didn't think that it was possible at the time. She just stared at me. Again. "How the hell- You must- Fuck-" She stuttered as she tried to come up with rationalizations for my words. Everyone else stared at me with moderate surprise.

"Thank the Medics back in the Initiative for that," I stated. "They're the best Medics I've worked with. Though seven years of medical training may have helped with that."

They all looked at me now as if I was in the wrong for something.

"Seven years?"

I was dumbfounded. Of course, most Initiative Medics did get seven years of training in normal circumstances. Rushed medical training was still a thing, though. It just meant you trained for seven days with a basic patch-up system, and not actually fixing the problem. Regardless, both were still valid.

"Well, yes. In normal times, it takes seven years for a UN Medic to learn how to heal-"

I was interrupted by a question that I wasn't prepared for at all. It was something that surprised even me.

"They didn't use Arts?"

"...What?" Was my response. What the fuck did they mean by Arts? Literal arts and crafts was the first thing that came to my mind when I first heard the statement, however they added onto it.

"They don't use Arts? Just physical medical training?" The Medic asked.

"Err... yes," I started, shrugging internally and running along with it. "GDI Medics learn how stitch up bodies, reconnect parts of the brain, deal with bleeding, and how to recover a soldier to full combat-ready status."

It was there where I realized that I would have a lot to explain about the UN at the time. At first, I thought nothing of it, but let me say this; When people try to dig too many questions about the people who work with you and the organization you work with, it is only then you realize that they've never had a United Nations, nor do they operate things.

And when I realized that, my only thoughts were the following;

'Shit.'

Author's Notes:

Another short chapter, before I return to long-form chapters. This is where canon AK goes off the rails, and GDI finally gets to interact with the world of AK. AC-130 Harbingers, anyone?

Also while I'm at it - to clarify one review who pointed out that the Harbinger guns weren't made by Einstein, thank you for that - I planned on stating somewhere that the developers and scientists behind most of the Allied energy weapons during WW2 were a clique of scientists led by Albert Einstein, with the Collider technology being one of their inventions. But when the Soviets approached Allied mainland territory, Einstein's clique all collectively killed themselves to prevent Soviets from using their research, while burning the notes.

Also please note that I will still use gameplay mechanics for some parts, but applicable realism where possible is something I try to strive for. Outside of combat and producing weapons, realism will be applied to GDI and Nod.

Oh, yeah, I also have a discord server that was previously used for another project of mine, but has since grown to accomodate that project and Operation Black Dawn. There's two separate invites, one for the server itself - and one for the Black Dawn catalog.

And until then, see y'all. And have a wonderful time.

Discord Invites: DHy678bDEW / 4m8QfQUE4n