Operation Black Dawn
Mission 13 - Fall Blau
September 29(?) - 1995/1097
Thirty-nine minutes after call for aid
"Life does not forgive weakness."
- (Late) Alliertenationenführer Herbert Karl Frahm [SDPdAN], 1958
Medical Officer Jan 'Hino' Kowalski [Allied Nations] - Skies near Chernobog, ? - Dated ?, 1097.
Hands shaking as I tried to fight off the cold in the skies, I kept my clutch on my rifle tight. To the point where it might as well be a tight grip on someone's throat. To some motherfuckers, that would be awesome. To me? It's representing how fucking painful this cold, dead sky is. Especially to my fingers.
When I received the news that we - and I mean GDI - would be assembling a QRF to retrieve one of our pilots who lost a helicopter out in the middle of nowhere, don't ask me how - I instantly volunteered to hope to see action. What did I get instead?
Shivering hands, a cold BDU, and a cramped Blackhawk helicopter staffed with men and women alike who were all in the same boat as me. Shivering in the dead skies and clutching our rifles. I was looking down below as I hung out of the side-door, with most of my squadmates sitting on the seats, and our squad leader - a Commando - stood in the center of the passenger compartments.
I didn't fall off because I strapped my legs to the fucking floor of the heli. Yeah. Apparently, in case of emergency overfilling, GDI Blackhawks have leg straps you could hang onto when the helicopter barrels to the sides so that you don't fall off.
They were pretty reliable too, when we tested them pre-flight, I managed to keep myself in my seat and not fall off. And here I was, hoping that the test would just be the last line of bullshit in a bullshit sandwich.
Sadly, as you might have guessed from my statements, this wasn't it.
The Commando was nice though. He introduced himself as Colonel Klepacki, apparently with the guys who made up SOG Echo-9. There he was, on the helicopter, wearing a standard GDI uniform and vest. The only standing feature he had was that he wore a beret with the GDI symbol on it.
"Listen up, squad!" He called out, standing in the center of the passenger compartment as he held on for dear life onto a bar handle that just kept him from being one step away from death.
"Our objectives are to find the approximate location of the HVT, and once they get smoke down, evacuate them as fast as possible!" He added, before pausing and continuing. "Our HVT is Warrant Officer First Class Chong-woo of the Tokyo Pact. He was stranded somewhere after his helicopter crashed and is currently under attack by enemy forces," he brought down a flip-up screen near him that switched to a 3D view of the pinpointed signal, with the area around it being dark due to it being unexplored.
"We're venturing into unknown territory, so be prepared for heavy combat. Mojo 1 and Mojo 2 will be providing aerial support, while Callsign Yellow 4 will be providing air support towards our HVT and allies. Any questions?" He finished, flipping the TV screen back up. In response to his question, quite literally almost everybody within the helicopter raised their hands. With some valid questions, I assume.
"Who the hell are we fighting? We could be starting a war, for all we know," A GDI Grenadier pointed out, with Colonel Klepacki nodding in response to the actually pretty valid question. "We might be fighting a local defense force." He added, then finished.
"That's the question. But rudimentary intel retrieved from our HVT's radio transmissions identifies them as a rogue VNSA. Violent Non-State Actor. They're terrorists, but not the ones we used to know." He was referring to Nod, I assumed. "When Command asked him to describe the attackers, he says that they're dressed in all white, and carry swords, molotovs, hell, even clubs. They're not Noddies, but treat them like Noddies. The actual Noddies are our friends. Never forget that." He answered.
The second question presented itself when one of the GDI Engineers spoke up. "What kind of environment are we fighting in? Base-to-base*, or pre-WW2 warfare?" He asked, with the Colonel taking his time to answer.
When he finally spoke up, he shook his head in disappointment. "Pre-WW2 warfare. You'll primarily serve as building repairs, but we won't capture MCVs."
"Why's that?"
"Intel from Command and HVT reports zero MCV presence. It's a Pre-WW2 war, but with swords." The Colonel brought up. That caused whispers amongst the GDI men as they realized that they would be without ground-constructed support should they get pinned down.
And with the dead skies getting worse and worse as they approached the vicinity of their HVT, it was needless to say that they were completely right to murmur and whisper around. After all, they were going to be stranded in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, without construction support. The weather getting worse was just another layer of shit on the bullshit sandwich.
"HVT also says we'll be fighting in a city," he shook his head yet again. "Sorry I have to say it, but we're going Urban." He finished. And the murmuring only grew louder as the squad voiced their concerns and complaints.
"Urban warfare?!"
"Fuuuck, I should've brought an M4..."
"Are you-"
"Goddamnit, Command!"
Colonel Klepacki seemed to agree with the sentiment. Regardless, it seemed like he was determined to see this mission through. One had to hand it to him, when push came to shove, Klepacki seemed to be a determined individual.
"I understand you all have legitimate complaints," he gave to the murmurs. "So do I. But, we have a brother in arms to rescue. A job to do. Someone to save in the long run. That's what GDI stands for! Protecting peace!" He rallied them, with the murmurs ceasing. "We have fought and bled so we could keep the peace we so earnestly desired! If we don't do this, a Peacekeeper will fall in the line of duty, all because we didn't save him!"
He paused as the squad finally got their act together, with them remembering the respect that Commandos get - and the value of a fellow Peacekeeper. Especially in this situation. Cut off from the rest of the world, with no supplies, and nothing to get any more reinforcements should they get stranded.
Hell, even I was convinced not to let someone die here or now. We'd be losing a lot of good Peacekeepers if we keep doing that. If there was a lesson learned from this impromptu rally, no casualty is acceptable, and all must be saved.
"So, let's get this job done! We will get him and his buddies out of there, no matter what may try to stop us!" The speech began to end, as the Colonel continued. "The United Nations will never abandon a fellow peacekeeper in the line of duty!"
The squad all shouted in sheer zealotry.
Almost like they were determined to get through this with no casualties.
I like that.
"Yes, sir!"
And as I kept staring onto the deader and dying skies, I had to ponder to myself.
"Would this have been Italy?"
Yellow 4 [Russian Confederation] - Skies near Chernobog, ? - Dated ?, 1097.
"Yellow 4, this is Mojo 2, skies appear to be darkening. Think it's the weather?"
"Mojo 2, this is Yellow 4, we see that. Skies darkening is usually the sign of rain. Recommend we go higher to avoid the rain."
"Negative, we still have a QRF to assist, you know?"
"Copy that, Mojo 2. Thanks for reminding me. So thankful."
"Hey, no problem. Mojo 2 out."
The radioman of the plane sighed as I turned to look at him from my seat on the AC-130 gun controls.
"Mojo 2 being an ass again?" I asked, leaning over to look at the radioman. He looked at me with tired eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Guy won't let my disasters go in peace. Like the one time I broadcasted a shitpost video over on the radio."
I shook my head and laughed. "Radioman, you're great for comedies, but I can let your fuck ups slide. Don't let Mojo 2 keep you restrained." I said, giving the Radioman a thumbs up. He returned a thumbs up and a smile back at me. With that, we turned back to our operating systems and kept things in check.
There I was, Yellow 4's Gun Operator. I go by 'Gun Operator' or just 'Gup'. But if you want to know my real name, it's Anastasia Lazarenka. I was the woman in charge of the guns on the AC-130, and I was pretty good at doing my job looking through my camera. I twisted the knob as the AC-130 flew over the barren wastelands of the location we found ourselves in.
"Think we're in Italy?" Navigator asked, with the map on the side of my camera zooming in and out as it examined the area slowly revealed by radar.
"Don't think that a barren wasteland counts as Italy, Nav." Elect-Warfare First commented. "It doesn't even look remotely close to Venice nor the villages I've seen inhabited by NCID."
"I can see that, but I was just trying to cope with our current situation. With what the Royal Air Force came back with, our situation doesn't look good." Navigator retaliated, examining the slowly-revealing map as the satellite received more information on the terrain and mapping from unit sensors mapping the area for everyone in the network, be it GDI or Nod.
Nav and Elect-Warfare First - being the Navigator and the First Electronics Warfare Officer - continued their conversation as I calibrated the guns correctly so they wouldn't end up overshooting anything.
"Yeah. No Camp Riverbed, just a dead world."
"Think this'll be our world with all the NCID and shit going back around home?"
"If we come back to it, maybe, Nav."
"I get that..."
"Don't hold it against yourself. It happens, hell, even I wouldn't have expected we get sent here. Nor being forced to retrieve a pilot out in nowhere."
"At least we're not fighting Nod. They're much more human than I expected. They're not anarchist terrorists, just people like us."
"Got that right. Though, bar the higher-ups. They're cultists."
"Amen, brother."
"Amen."
The two finished as they went back to their jobs, with the Navigator examining the map and looking out for mountains that the AC-130 could be at risk of crashing into. The mini-map on the side of the gun TV continued to move around, with the crosshairs finally centering near the area of the signal.
"This is Mojo 2 to all units," I heard on the radio so suddenly, turning my head to the Radioman's position. "We may have a problem."
"What kind?" The Radioman brought up, with a slight surprise to his tone.
"Sky's getting way darker. Might have to expedite."
"...Shit."
"Got that right."
I stared into the gun cameras as I examined the land around the skies, eventually coming to the conclusion that this place was indeed as dead as it seemed. With wrecks everywhere, and all the like. Hell, when I zoomed on a white splotch on the TV, it came back to me revealing a wrecked car.
"What the fuck happened here?" I asked, moving the TV camera to other splotches on the display.
I got: A bunch of broken houses, each with crystals poking out of them - Then a wrecked convoy of cars, likely a caravan - And following that I got to see the wonderful sight of what looked like to be a hospital covered in black shards. I made myself gag a bit when my mind wandered as to the consequences of a hospital covered in black shit. Probably ruins of a bygone era. If the British Harbinger guys were to be believed, this place truly was dead.
"See anything?" Navigator asked, zooming onto the ruins I trained my guns on.
"I got nothing dude," I commented, eyes scanning the rest of the barren wasteland below us. "This place is dead."
"Shit. The hell happened here?" And that was Nav. I pinched my nose in disappointment and had to answer for him.
"NCID, most likely. Looks like NCID Crystals on crack."
"Goddamnit."
"Jesus, this place is truly dead." I zoomed out of the TV and viewed the overall wasteland. Sighing, I leaned back into my chair and took a moment to breathe as I remembered what I was dealing with.
NCID, Infected Wildlife - thanks to the same RAF Harbingers - and a much more dead world than Camp Tiber. Who would've known that I'd be deployed to a practically dead world? So dead that I can't even pick up thermal imaging on this fucking TV.
This place sucked. But unfortunately, I don't know why it sucked. Maybe I'd be able to find out in the coming years.
Wait, was that a city?
Hold on... was it on a platform? What the fuck?
I put those questions down as I looked over at the minimap to see that we were actively getting closer to the pinpointed location. Goddamn finally we were arriving there. I took a minute to take in a deep breath, and then inform the rest of the people on the AC-130.
"Heads up, I got a new signature," I informed the team as I zoomed on the rest of the area. My shock silenced whatever I had planned to say however as I came across a sight that rejuvenated my sore eyes. Hell, I even rubbed them as I tried to clear the sight in front of me, but it failed. Well, it never would have worked anyway.
"Update, we don't just have a new signature," I spoke, alarming Radioman, Nav, and Elect-Warfares First, Second, and Third. "We've got an entire city."
"What? Out here in the barren wilderness?"
"See for yourself. Flip your TV cameras." I stated, before turning my gun towards the massive thermal signature that was the mobile city that was in front of my guns. I could clearly hear the confusion in the rest of the crew. Hell, it got even louder as I aligned the gun cameras to inspect the city.
"Mojo 2, you see this?" Radioman. Mojo 2's silence alarms me, at least for a few microseconds as I hear the accursed jackass tone of Mojo 2. Though he was equally as concerned as me when he opened up to speak.
"Yellow 4, please tell me you're talking about the thunderstorms and weather we're flying into." He stated, almost sounding like he was pleading with God. "Mojo 1 is reporting lightning strikes that narrowly missed. I'm afraid I might be the next."
I pinched my nose and began looking at the city so the Radioman would have a clearer picture of the hellscape that awaited them.
"No. It's not that... it's what's below us," Radioman opened up. "City. It's up in smoke. Fires are spreading everywhere. Thermal signatures everywhere..."
I zoomed in and was shocked at what I saw. Even from the camera of the Harbinger's guns, I nearly gagged from what the hell was going on. When I turned off the thermal imaging sight and switched to normal targeting, what I was greeted by would have been akin to total chaos during a Nod riot. I was forced to observe some during the Russo-Chinese border conflicts.
"It's total chaos down there. Think we should start shooting?" Elect-War Second spoke up, only to be vetoed almost immediately by Elect-War Third and Fourth.
"Negative, Second. We don't want to risk being responsible for civilian blood on our hands. Only start shooting when we see the smoke and the HVT points out target locations. Until then, tell Gup to hold fire."
Not that I would have shot anything, but okay. Elect-War Second nodded and conceded. Though, our Navigator soon realized what kind of things he was getting himself into when the Radar mapped the city below them. It was mobile. That was what he was thinking.
"A... a mobile city! I know we have MCVs out back home, but this...! This is just inconceivable! We can't move cities, even if we could!"
"Then why the hell do these guys do it, Nav?"
"Look, clearly there must be a reason for this, otherwise it would be a total waste of money and resources to make these. Still- If they could make cities that are mobile, what the hell causes it to go up in flames like this?"
"Nav. Ask Nod that. They're perfect for Chaos."
"...Fucking goddamnit. But we don't have Nod as an enemy, so who the hell's causing this shit?"
"Same people fighting our HVT."
"That's a very likely probability, but hey, positive IDs needed first."
"Yeah, yeah."
As I zoomed the TV camera out, I took a moment away from the controls and spun around my seat to look at the rest of the guys.
"Look, Gup," The Navigator looked at me as he turned away from his chair. "We're up here, and they're down there. We'll be fine."
"Yeah, I know, but still... All this destruction... this.. this chaos. It's unsettling to look at it."
"We'll be back to save this area. We just have to get our guy out first."
"Think we'll fulfill that promise?" I turned back to the gun controls and Navigator answered instantly.
"I'm sure of it."
I smiled. Maybe there was some humanity left within GDI after all.
"Heads up, we're near our target destination," Navigator added. "Get the Blackhawk on the line, Radio."
"Roger," He added. "Transport Unit, we're approaching the destination. Hover around until you see a smoke trail that's a different color from the rest of the fires of the city."
"This is Transport Unit," the voice on the radio replied. "We already see it. We're trying to get contact with the HVT."
"Patch him through the radio network as well, Transport Unit."
"Aye. Hang on, we've got his signal, patching him through."
I took the matter into my own hands as I moved the camera to the area of the smoke site, seeing the Transport Unit detach from the formation and approach the site.
"Mojo 1, Mojo 2, secure the airspace and ensure no other aircraft interfere. Yellow 4, keep watch over the HVT. Fire upon approaching hostiles once identified by HVT." The Transport Unit informed. While Mojo team had gotten the info and moved to secure the area, the Radioman responded.
"Wilco, Transport Unit."
"Alright, patching HVT to you now." The helicopter added, before finally getting the pilot on the line. The line was filled with noises for a second before a voice finally got onto the radio.
"This is Warrant Officer First Class Chong-woo, it's good to see you guys!"
"Glad to see you too, Warrant Officer," Radioman said. "However, we cannot, I repeat, cannot provide fire support until you designate them on smoke."
"Err... do I throw smoke at their general direction and tell you which identifying features to look for?"
"Considering we have a non-thermal camera, yes, Warrant Officer." He deadpanned. "Just toss a smoke at them and we'll get 'em. And be sure to inform us of their camo too, so we don't open fire on friendlies or civilians by mistake."
"Err... tossing!" He said, with a beat on the radio as he presumably threw it before it landed. "Alright! Look for their White Uniforms! That's how you know they're the guys you should shoot at! Out!"
"Roger that, Warrant Officer. Good luck. Out."
The line went dead after that as the combat finally raged on. And with air support, too.
"Alright, Gup, go wake up the sleepyhead who operates the right minigun."
Nodding, I threw a soda on my fire control table at the right minigun operator, who woke up in a jolt. We called him 'Righty'.
"Aaagh! We finally there?!" Righty asked as he got on the controls and hurriedly rushed to get a soda.
"Yep. Get set for combat. Don't forget to flip down the TV screen above you so you can see me getting shots off them."
"You're an asshole, you know that, Gup?"
"Yep, but I'm your asshole."
"Haha, got that right."
And we - brother and sister - got back to operations.
I opened my minifridge - standard to all Harbingers - and grabbed a chilled coffee cup as I finally went to work on destroying the targets.
"Smoke sighted. Targets appear to have white uniforms. Permission to engage, Nav?"
"Granted. Smoke 'em."
I smiled as I switched the control scheme to that of the 120mm cannon located on the Harbinger. Zooming into the camera, I took a look at a mass of soldiers clumping up together and shot at them. The shot zoomed further and further away from the camera, then hit the target with impunity and a purpose.
"Wow, good hit. That ought to put a dent in their numbers." I heard Righty say.
Switching to the 40mm cannon as the 120mm automatically reloaded itself, I took potshots at additional clumps who didn't learn the lesson and not cluster together. 40mm Collider shells vaporized everything in their vicinity as blood painted the streets following the complete evisceration, devastation, and just outright erasure of everything at center radius.
"Look at 'em. Dumb bastards." Righty joked.
"You got that right." I smiled. "They really are dumb as hell."
And once the last 40mm shot was fired - poetically at a clump who only realized now that it was better to get away, I put away the 40mm in favor of the 105mm yet again as another wave of white-uniformed attackers charged at the way.
"Heads up, another wave," I informed. "Hitting 'em with another one-oh-five."
I pulled the trigger on the control panel as I sipped from my coffee, watching blood spill. My coffee felt more interesting than the bloodstains on the walls as I continued switching between the guns on the AC-130. My coffee container filled the screen as I went on autopilot and kept shooting collider shells at them. Watching them panic was a funny experience. Hell, the moment I saw someone trip and then immediately get hit with a 40mm shot - I chuckled at the bastard's poor luck.
"Heads up," Transport Unit opened up. "Transport Unit landing in center of smoke site. Use the 20mm - or the 40mm. Just not the Collider howitzer." They clarified. As I finished my coffee and set it back into my minifridge, I nodded and spoke a 'Roger that' into my radio. Switching the trigger from 105mm to 20mm minigun, I sprayed a zig-zag line of shots at the advancing fuckers.
"Heads up, HVT allies report more troops advancing from the east flank," Transport Unit informed, with gunfire coming from the back of the radio as the QRF fought off waves and waves of enemies. "Yellow 4, hit 'em with the one-oh-five." Transport Unit asked, and I wanted to oblige.
Turning my guns to the eastern flank - at least presumably - I spotted some people who looked like wizards - identified by their big sticks - and hit them with another 105mm shot. "Yellow 4, you just hit their 'Casters'. Good work." Transport Unit interjected.
"What're they supposed to be? Magicians? Pfft." I responded, grabbing into my minifridge and taking a Pepsi out of it, opening the can as I switched to the 40mm.
"Apparently yes." He deadpanned. I nearly spilled my drink there, but he had something else to add. "Oh, and heads up. There are snipers in the buildings. Since the place is wrecked, you have permission to engage the buildings."
Swallowing my soda even though it made me nearly choke, I nodded. "Wilco." And moved my camera to some buildings that the people on the ground were facing.
"Transport Unit, designate target buildings for me - I can't see shit."
"Roger. Wait one."
As I waited for a response from the Transport Unit, I edged the camera close to the center of the LZ where Transport Unit had landed. On it, GDI riflemen stood behind a barricade made of broken cars and whatever scraps of metal they could salvage from this broken necropolis. Alongside them were other peculiar individuals all standing out even as they had no unified sense of clothing.
GDI Minigunners stood with their weapons on the cars, suppressing fire at the remnants of the people I had just introduced to Russian firepower. A Commando stood at the very top, with a handheld .50 Caliber sniper rifle making mincemeat out of anyone who dared approach him. And just in the rear line were GDI Medics who treated the wounded.
I knew who the HVT was the moment I saw a different-colored uniform compared to the mass of desert camouflage that made most GDI standard infantry recognizable. And he was accompanied by other people, standing at the back of the line supporting the rest.
I nearly gagged yet again as I saw what appeared to be - get this - magic from one of the people supporting the GDI troops. And it just accompanied the wanton slaughter that the rifles of GDI were committing. The reason why I gagged wasn't because of the shooting - no, I've been shot too many times to count on the ground - but by the fact that magic apparently existed.
I got snapped out of my exasperated curiosity when none other than Transport Unit spoke up.
"Yellow 4, we've got a target marker. One of our HVT's friendlies is using... err, what was it call- Ah, right," He deadpanned, before coughing and resuming. "HVT's friendlies are going to use 'Arts' to designate targets, alongside Colonel Klepacki's laser marker. Switch to Thermals, and you'll see it," And so I did, going to 'WHOT' mode. "Godspeed, Yellow 4."
I'd say I nodded, but I was still exasperated, so I just said 'Wilco' and got back to the gun controls after standing there in stupefied silence. 105mm selected, purely so I could make someone's life a living hell.
First designated target had a vague glow around it, and the laser dot on the marker moving around gave me the right amount of information I needed to make a sniper's life a living hell.
I pulled the 105mm's trigger, with the Russian-architectural-looking building immediately crumbling as the collider weaponry destroyed its structure and caused it to collapse near instantly. The crumbling gave a smile to my face as Transport Unit reported that "One sniper's nest was down, one more to go." and that I just needed to blow up one more.
Lo and behold, one glow and laser marker later, I shot at it with the 105mm yet again. The poor building crumbled to the right and fell almost as if it was the leaning tower. Except, you know, dead-er.
"Alright, that's the last of the attacks we have to worry about for now, Yellow 4," Transport Unit commented. "We're preparing to leave, HVT's on the helicopter."
"Roger that, Transport Unit. I'll see if I can get Mojo 2."
"Wilco."
"...I'd call that a mission success if I do say so myself," Righty interjected. "I mean, we don't know who these people we shot at were - Only just that they opposed our HVT and allies."
"I'd have loved to know more about them, but alas, maybe later," I spoke. "Maybe we'll find that they'll be the Nod of this place. I mean, look at it. Human wave attacks, guerrilla bullshit, and a tendency to rush at enemies without care or remorse. That just sounds like Nod to me, don't you think?"
"Well you got that right..."
I silenced myself later as we prepared to get out of there, with the plane turning around.
Well, this was it. Mission acco-
The plane shook the instant I thought those words, with me nearly falling off my chair as the plane lurched leftwards. The only reason I didn't smack into the plane was because I held on for dear life onto the trigger, and got up when the plane finally stabilized.
"This is Mojo 2!" My communications blared, "I'm hit! I'm hit! Engine's been hit by fucking hail! I'm bailing!"
"Mojo 1 here, Mojo 2 just crashed! I see a chute! I'm getting the hell out of here!" The first Mojo pilot, who didn't even say much, suddenly bailed on them as the hail was somehow large enough to destroy Mojo 2's craft.
"Damnit! Nav, what's the damage status?!" I asked, cementing myself to my seat.
"Pilot says Engine 4's been torn off! We're leaking fuel, and we're heavily damaged!" Nav responded, just barely putting his headphones back in.
"WHAT?! HOW FUCKING-"
"Pilot! Turn us around! We've gotta get out!" Nav interrupted my statements. And the contents of his statements left me dumbfounded.
"WHAT THE FUCK! ARE YOU INSANE?!"
"We've gotta get out of here before we get shot down, Gup!"
"But the Transport Unit-"
Another explosion shook the plane, and I fell off my chair and planted my face into a box of ammunition.
"Damnit, gup! Alright, Pilot, let's get the hell out of here!"
I rubbed my head in pain and frustration as I positioned myself against the box, my back facing it.
When I was about to raise my voice to argue, I got interrupted by Transport Unit - who didn't say anything we initially took off - on the radio.
"Yellow 4, Mojo 1, get the hell out of there as fast as you can! I don't know about you guys, but I don't want our air support to die off!"
"What about you?" I heard Radioman say. The response?
"We'll wait it out! Just get the hell out of there!"
Then, after that spectacular last message, the line cut off as the Harbinger sped off, almost shaking a few more times as the 'hail' kept hitting the plane. It still survived for now. But the question I had lingering was...
Could Transport Unit survive this?
Or was this all for nothing?
I'd have to learn that answer later though, as we got out. And when we finally got out, I still had one lingering question brought about by the acts and things I witnessed in our deployment to that necropolis.
...What the hell did we get ourselves into?
Notes from the Gun Operator:
Base-to-base - Post-WW1 Warfare involving the use of Mobile Construction Vehicles, the establishment of quickly-reinforcing and self-reproducing bases with industrial capability and the facilities to manufacture guns, food, medicine, appliances, vehicles, their ammunition, and countless ameneties. Though commonplace past 1943, pre-1940s societies - or societies with no MCVs - would consider them self-replicating war and civilian industries packed into one.
Author's Notes:
Alright, this is where I finally return to long-form chapters now that I have my muse for them. My muse for my other fics is still shelved as of late due to me finally getting back into Arknights, but rest assured that I'll finish the rest. I still have a discord server if people want to go visit and check out my other fic(s). Though right now I'm focused more on OBD.
Also, with the set of canon that this is adhering to - let me spoil you on this; GDI will return to Chernobog after the Transport Unit and HVT are evacuated, and in the process, will rescue far more people than they intended.
You can probably guess who I'm adding to the list of rescuees.
See y'all next chapter.
Discord Invite: 4m8QfQUE4n