In 1959, Rosalina Shikinova was born in the crowded and grim industrial areas of Lillianov. Her parents worked as steel workers, being able to support only her and another child, Vasily, who eventually died of sickness at the age of 12. From childhood she was bonded to firearms. Her uncle would visit the city occasionally from the surrounding Ural wilderness, taking young Rosalina on hunting trips with him, where she learned that bullets rather suited her personality: if you wanted something, preferably something productive, like food or hides, the best way to accomplish this was with raw steel.
Like many other disaffected youth, Rosalina volunteed for the Soyuza Army at the age of 17, rising up through the ranks quickly. The upper staff favored women snipers, as the job required more fineness and less physical prowess, being ideally suited for a patient but cunning woman like Rosalina. After basic training she was transferred to the bloodstained wastes of Sakhandar.
War had been haunting the central Asian country for years, and the young sniper soon realized the best word to describe it was.. otherworldly. It was like a different planet; Sakhandis could've been Martians for all she knew. The deadly hot summers and daunting mountain ranges and strange languages and spices.. it couldn't have been more foreign. Most Sakhandar veterans would describe the war itself as being best comparable to the country it took place in: gritty and brutal.
After a year of combat Rosalina "Rosa" Shikinova was hardened perhaps beyond repair, and was entered into the Spetsnaz and given the rank of captain. Leading aerial assault missions, her company gained a reputation for being expert special forces, although perhaps a bit cold-hearted too. Any softness Rosalina had would be pushed aside irreparably after one day, when the war broke her beyond all repair.
August 25th, 1982
A cluster of Soyuza soldiers huddle beyond the huge wrecks of 2 Mil-24 helicopters, using the oil-black smoke as cover as bullets cut through the air. At the center of them is a lithe but still intimidating blonde woman, a savage grin on her face. Pull the trigger, watch for blood; another down. "That's number 47, I think.."
For almost twenty minutes Shakal Force had been pinned down in the hills surrounding an overlooking town: their mission had been to re-establish control from the mujahideen, but the enemy numbers and dedication was.. surprising to say the least.
Rosalina frowns. "They're probably gonna flank us, if they can.. I wouldn't put anything past them; this place is a shithole. Wish we could've just hit them with Grads and moved on."
A Eurasian man with short black hair grins. "Sure, but then you'd find yourself in front of a court martial for war crimes, kapitan." Suddenly the man's torso seems to burst with blood; bullets crack through the air all around the Soyuza, this time from the left.
Rosalina's eyes dilate again and again, dropping her rifle as the entire world suddenly goes fuzzy. They killed Kortnev.. I mean it's not.. like he's dead or anything; but he's like.. killed.. Kortnev..
With shaky hands, Rosalina barks out orders, her voice sounding almost doglike. "Kalash. 10 mins until medevac last I checked. We need to make it to the village or we're gonna die. I don't care if it's suicidal because we're gonna die here anyway, like animals."
With grim but determined faces, the group nod and reload their weapons, having faith to place in no one else besides their kapitan.
"Smoke grenades ready in 20 seconds, suppressive RPG fire when I call... LET'S GO!"
Smoke billows up in front of the Spetsnaz as rockets burst through, smashing into the side of the village. The few dozen Soyuza charge up the hill maniacally as enemy fire tears into their ranks. At least their machine gunners were thrown off by the RPGs.. let's do this.
Rosalina throws herself over a clay wall; landing into a garden of sorts. She raises her rifle and laughs with satisfaction as the mujahid at the other end spends his last moments looking surprised. "Dumb pig, they're all just animals aren't they?"
She races through the back alleys of the town, hearing the sounds of gunfire and explosives in the background, but not really noticing. She rips her bayonet out of the body of her second victim, a grizzly militiaman. Hearing a scream from the other side of the street, she whirls around, firing a volley straight through the wall of a poorly built mud hut.
Hearing silence, Rosalina storms into the hut, being confronted by the sight of a small boy looking up at her with horror on his face, the bloody corpse of a woman about the age a mother would be lying before him.
"Oh.." Rosalina says dumbfounded, for the second her raw passion and vengeant race subsided. She stays like that until the screaming boy digs a sharpened stake into her left eye, and everything turns red. Red bricks, red sky, red mountains, red bodies, friends, enemies, people..
Out of a company of 160 soldiers, 71 were landed at the so-called Red Mountain. All 71 would be awarded the Hero of the USP medal, the highest Soyuza military achievement. 20 of these were posthumous. Another 44 members of Shakal Force were wounded, most notably Captain Rosalina Shikinova, though her mental wounds would never be treated.
And now she stood at the helm of a great nation, and yet she couldn't have been further from her comrades, the people who tied her to the world. She had all the power in the world and yet none of it at all.
How ironic.
