UPDATE 20181009: Phrasing and pacing fixed, added 2nd chp 1st public version

When people read or write, the position, or character, of the narrator, you know, the 'P.O.V. guy', is far too often underestimated.

This is a mistake.

A narrator is, when enough thought is put in, a character on par with the others that appear in a fictional work.
Of course, usually, when non-fictional work is handled, the narrator is the author himself (auto-biographies).
But people seem to confuse the way of handling non-fictional texts, like newspaper articles or research books for an assignment, with fictional texts, like the Harry Potter novels or poems.
This becomes a problem, as the narrator in fiction is not supposed to be the author himself.
It can be done, sure, but in doing so he loses some of the most valuable weapons in today's world:
language, voice; things those "literature experts" call "stylistic devices" that they love to force down your throat...

He loses the power of subtly changing the readers' mind, something journalists, more often than not, have to be masters at.
Which in turn they're abusing to the fullest.

Enough chatter, cutting straight to the point: the narrators position is not to be underestimated.

The narrator tells the reader what to believe. And the author tells the narrator what to believe, it's really quite simple.
And it can be very subtle, so subtle to the point literally every detail matters, such as choice of punctuation (or lack thereof...), "spelling/grammar mistakes", precision in phrasing, conscious choice in, and alternation of, tenses, extra (but not reader-necessary) words, placement of insertions (and what they're used for)...

There's a reason why literature should be an entire subject all on its own.

And now for the actual story:

During the Second World War as the rest of humanity knows it, Einstein, deciding to attempt averting what once went down in history as the "holocaust", started work on a project that'd forever change the very fabric of the universe; space and time itself: the Chronosphere.

Using the Chronosphere, Einstein journeyed back to 1924. The year Hitler was released from "prison", before he became head of what would've become the Nazi party.

There, Einstein met him and, funnily with no more than a hand-shake, erased the Austrian Jew-killer from history.

Einstein was probably upset of the fact that Hitler wasn't really a prisoner, more than what happened several years after that.
In fact, we heard the 'order' that existed back then actually favoured him, resulting in a few months worth of "prison" with a secretary that wrote that blasted picture album of a book (which we'd actually love to read; to see what the fool thought could pass as 'must-force-read' literature back in the day, a few years after publication).
We'd go more into detail concerning the 'order' of that time here, but we are no longer sure of the details regarding that topic ourselves. All we know for sure is that the politicians as well as the teachers (most of them) from then were part of that, as those elders were the only ones left, due to them not having gone to the front, while the youngsters went to die.

All war ever does is take the lives and futures of youngsters, leaving behind the old, senile, and broken.

And the worst part of all of this?
It's just a game to businessmen. Yes, you read that correctly: war has become both a game and a business, and is currently a booming industry. Do not believe the figures that say otherwise
Why else do you think no-one's doing anything regarding the export of weapons of mass destruction? Why do you think my people, my brothers, are being slaughtered as you read this?
Because no-one, least of all politicians, can allow their country's economy to crash (there's something else too, I'll tell you later).
And trust me when I say that the weapon industry is unbelievably profitable.

On the other side, moreover, you get these civility-less massacres.

Wars with no civility, where the "generals" and "commanders" stay safe in their bunkers far from the actual battle and get shiny medals while their men get shredded to pieces...
These wars, or even mere battles, shall lead only to massacres, both on the military and civilian side of things.
It is why all of Earth's wars are still so tragic.

No commander or general has ever seen the front, nor did any of them lead or fight themselves.

There are no more true leaders, only pussy-managers that are better at counting money and polishing useless medals than making actual battle plans, be it for real battles or petty politics and corporate shenanigans.

Shortly after the mad-man got erased, the side-effects became clear pretty quickly: without Hitler, Stalin had no-one to oppose his "continental Soviet Union", a Vision made possible by a certain... "man", and so Blitzkrieg-ed Europe.

Irony at its finest: you Blitzkrieg who was planning on Blitzkrieg-ing you before he's ready. And, believe it or not, that's a popular Command and Conquer strategy.
We refer to it as "rushing", and it is highly risky; it involves throwing literally everything you've got at your enemy in one direction.
I.E. failing the rush is synonymous to defeat. That, and you're vulnerable to getting side- and flank-rushed. Not really a problem unless you're in the middle of the field with one too many openings for your rush to cover. Or you get bombers and fighters thrown at you but have no anti-air units around
Hitler made one fatal mistake: making both the Allied powers and USSR his enemies (though the number or identity of enemies doesn't matter. It's actually their physical situation relative to you that's the only issue) before he had managed to crush either one.

This... 'rushing the rusher before he's prepared' was what had transpired once. When Hitler existed.

No-one in Europe was prepared for a rush in the 1930s or 1940s, allowing Hitler and his racist, blood-thirsty Axis to blast their way through the "Lebensraum" (roughly translatable into "free real-estate") to the East and the Allied dogs in the West.
No-one was prepared, for no-one had even suspected a rush was imminent.
The only reason why Hitler's Blitzkrieg was possible (at least until he reached the Union's borders) was because of how unprepared the entirety of Europe was to war.
It is why Poland and France and northern Africa fell to the Axis so quickly. And Moscow in "Mother Russia" didn't fall only because Stalin already had similar plans underway. Hitler only interrupted the preparations and forced Stalin's hand a bit earlier than the false-Marxist would've preferred (seven years at most, seeing as this time's World War II began in 1946, as opposed to the 1939 you remember, according to Westwood). But with the mass-murderer out of the way...

It was only a matter of time.

And soon enough it was almost ready to begin; this disgusting thing called war. War in which civilians are more often targeted than soldiers.

If only our rules of warfare had persisted.
So much devastation... so many deaths could've been avoided...
And so many needless battles and wars too.

Oh, I'm rambling and throwing far too many insults and "swear words", aren't I?

I'm sorry; the habit of explaining myself, at least in inner-monologue and storing that somewhere in my memory core, was built into my soul directly.
For debug purposes of course. My father had that feature carried over when I was built.
Of course, the debuggers were my father and myself. My uncle doesn't really do coding, though is still fascinated by it all the same, and is actually quite adept at understanding it.
Once you make it clear that C++ and Java are two different things, despite it all being zeros and ones...

As for my "dirty tongue"?
Let's just say that the pure energy rage gives you...

Is nothing short of impressive.

Especially if you even knew half of what my body was capable of at full power with all limiters disabled.

In any case, war was on the horizon, but there was a little something that had to be taken care of first.

The meeting with our... ally of convenience.

"Now then, let's get started, shall we?"
The man in question is the head of a secretive organization, who is just as secretive as said organization. The one that is said to have existed for thousands of years in the shadows, orchestrating so much of Asia's, Europe's and America's history. And let's not forget the Australians' history. Nod had a part there too. I think.

We met with Kane himself, the undisputed leader of the Brotherhood of Nod.

No-one knows of Kane's true origins. Some say he is, in fact, the biblical Cain himself, who was apparently the first murderer.
Others claimed he was from an ancient, extra-terrestrial civilisation thriving on Mars that was destroyed by another extra-terrestrial race long ago, and then somehow ended up here. Said races' specifics and details being completely unknown, however, even now.
Others say he's a ...human of sorts that got his hands on the Tacitus. An artefact with knowledge beyond the comprehension of filth in politics and industry higher-ups.
Last one doesn't explain why he won't age, though. Unless he found some sort of "ever-young" concoction...

"Indeed. I still got work to do, and my energy is better spent there."
That was my father. He and Kane were sitting opposite each other on a wooden, round table. Think of King Arthur's Round Table, but smaller (there's literally only two people sitting, Kane's men don't sit unless their "messiah" allows them to, and I had to tend to my sister).

"You are aware time and space don't exist here? Or have I been misinformed?"
There was an angry... tint, let's say, to his voice. I knew he didn't like it not being told everything, and definitely doesn't like being told false information.
It was like he liked being in charge of everything, rarely letting people do what they think is right.
Unless he trusts them, of course.
Though I knew he doesn't trust my father. Or myself for that matter.

Heh, father is more like Kane than he'd like to admit in that regard.
And come to think of it, uncle and I are as well. Pretty hilarious how the circle goes, eh?

"We may be outside time and space, but my internal loggers don't take breaks. And neither does your internal clock, I might add, Kane." The man in question calmed down.

"Very well. Now, just so we're both on the same page: your daughter will be in the Brotherhood's service for... an undisclosed amount of time, and, in exchange, I shall provide the medication and technology for her... sister's... condition."

Said sister (though that relationship was rather one-sided at that moment) was behind me, clinging to my leg.
It was clear to Kane and his men that she was afraid, and that she would rather be almost anywhere else rather than here if she had the choice.
Almost anywhere.
Though only my father and I knew how danger-, no, how powerful she really was.
Didn't have anything to do with why she was remembered by the trash calling itself "human society" as a demon, though. The brainless imbeciles believed the words of a an old hag that went well past her time. Something about "purging sins" or "transferring sins" to one person, which just so happened to be my sister now.

"That's about it, yes."
The two men were staring at each other. It was an eye to an optic sensor.

...It wasn't an entertaining battle.
But the tension was there all the same.

"Then why did you bring your daughter here? I was under the impression this would be a simple diplomatic talk, not a fight."

"That is true."

"Then explain why she looks ready to kill me?"

It was a warranted question.

After all, what else would you assume if you'd go to negotiations and find that the other party had a guard with weapons, in my case beam sabre and shield, drawn out?

"Because she doesn't trust your men not to hurt her sister. It's bad enough the transfer fried her vocal chords' nerves and I had to resort to drastic measures to allow any semblance of communication."

"Ah, you refer to the transfer of our mutual... friend, do you not? The same friend to whom we owe this meeting?"

Said "friend" was nowhere to be seen. He had to stabilise this... place, if you could call it that.

But that didn't mean that bastard wasn't listening in.

If I had the chance, I'd first grab his arms, push him down with my leg, the very same leg my sister was clinging to at that moment, and pull.

Ah, just the thought... just the imagination of his screams as I rip off his arms... it fills me with-

"Yeah, "friend". Though business benefactor or temporary ally would be a slightly better term."

"Then I take it the best term would be potential backstabber?"

The two chuckled.

Good, an uneasy alliance with mutual interest: neither trusted that bastard.

I could torture him now, you know. But if it weren't for the damage to my sister only his help can repair, damage the transfer procedure of his own design inflicte-

Blast, the bastard now knew he wasn't trusted!
Kane, you fool! We just lost the only advantage over him!
...Fine. I'll take him down, and you with him, and all by myself if I have to!

"So, how long?"

"I predict the war will last seven years, regardless of outcome. I trust those were your results as well?"

"Yes. The system provided by both yourself and that bastard brought about the same result."
Father... not you too!

"Excellent, then Tarrina will become the newest member of the Brotherhood, acting on my orders, and I shall take her sister into my care once her time comes."

"There's still the issue of what side you'll have her join. She can either be someone close to Stalin and seduce the fat drunk, though note she wasn't built with that one in mind, or make sure Einstein's research runs smoothly."

"That depends on how the war goes. In order for it to proceed as planned, I need someone I can trust to switch easily between the two factions as necessary. There's no proper plan to make when it comes to war. Any and all plans can only be vague at best with the calibre we're aiming for. And our lacking resources for the current moment.
However, my spies report Einstein's research is progressing wonderfully, so she can keep the Allied forces busy. But not too much, it could end the war far too soon. The same goes if she assists the good doctor for too lon-"

"In other words, my daughter will become a mercenary."

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"You are aware of what is destroying my home, correct?"

"Is? Ah... Forgive me, I have forgotten. I have been told by our... "friend" of what shall come to pass should the world go as it is now, hence why I believe you will love to hear your daughter shall lead one of the planned opening-assaults on Europe. I hear you also have something against the Chinese as well?"

"No, the Russians, not the Chinese. Actually, scrap that. You planning on prohibiting their... religious practices as they're doing with my people?"

"No, not yet."

"Then my answer is, too, no."

"Which means I can't rely on her for that operation. Pity. Then I must resort to... "comrade" Gradenko."

"...do I even want to know?"

"No, you do not," Kane chuckled and smiled. But it wasn't a sick smile. A normal one.

"Good. Now, anything else?"

"I shall have our... partner contact you once we're ready. I am sure Nadia and myself can convince Joseph to put your daughter in charge of a battalion or two."

"Then the meeting is over." The two stood.
Man shook hand with machine servo.

"This better be a good war," I thought back then, as I looked down at my sister with a smile.
"It'll be alright. We'll be hanging out again before you know it."

But she shook her head no. And I knew why: father had made it clear from the beginning he didn't want her to trust or stay close to him.

For as little as she trusted me right now, she still trusted me more than my father. Or my uncle for that matter.

I had forgotten that, and it was a mistake. A mistake I only had a few moments more left to fix.

"May I add to these terms?"

My father turned his head, though only slightly, just enough for me to know I had his attention but still refusing to trust his back to Nod. Kane had that annoying twinkle in his eye too.

...wait, how the fragging Gadunka do eyes twinkle?

"I wish for my sister to remain at my side during the entirety of the operation."

"Out of the question. We can't have a mere child-"

"Not... child..." The voice was very, very hoarse.

But honestly? It was still one of the most beautiful sounds I had heard, even if very raspy from disuse.

"Did you not say she could not speak?" Kane was probably seething now, but he quickly relented when I sent him a glare and growled, barring my teeth. Teeth made specifically to rip apart flesh.
I was pretty sure one or two of his escorts were in need of new underwear too.

My father simply ignored the bald "man".

"Granted." Kane's eyes glared at my father.
I knew why: who or what was my father, or I for that matter, to oppose Kane?
The ultimate killing machines who could kill Kane's men before the fool could even blink, that's who, or rather what, my father and I were. No, are.
My sister? A regular human (with barely usable vocal chords) and an implant straight into the spine with a communication module attached to the "Whiskers" on her back.

My father now stared directly into Kane's eyes.
"The tank will go with her wherever she goes. I've been given a suitable transport for it from... "several" years ahead of my time. Think of it as one of Stalin's Heavy Tanks in terms of fuel-consumption, at most.."

"You do realize she's in even more danger with us than-"

"My twin is incapable of handling emotions properly; and as a result I can't either. My daughter is the only one whose emotions are evolving normally, and it's only through her sister. It is not possible to copy that behaviour."

"And why is that a problem I should be concerned with?"

"Because she gets nightmares. And when she does, she gets violent and irresponsive. Then I get violent myself. It's not funny."

Kane's brow twitched. I'm pretty sure he got the gist of it: "can't handle emotions, so can't calm down spooked girl without blowing a building or two."

I thought so at the time anyway, and didn't care if that had indeed been the case or not.
Had other thoughts in mind then.

"Comrade Stalin, this our newest officer from overseas: comrade Tasha."

Stalin gave my face a quick once-over. And my non-existent chest. But that one is not my fault, I wasn't built with one; I'm a killing machine, not a brainless slut, for frag's sake!

"Ah, comrade Tasha! I heard things about you: top graduate in all subjects, passed through command school, in America no less...
"What tells me you are not a traitor?"

"The Allied dogs destroyed my home. My father's wish was revenge. My wish is revenge. I shall kill them all, or die trying." There's nothing more convincing than truth. Father told me that, and I believed it.

The fact that Stalin was now smiling proved it.

"Then I have an assignment which will require special skills."

All in the room were smiling: Kane, Nadia, Stalin... even me.

Oh, how much I was looking forward to pay the dogs back for what they did to my home...
It might be their ancestors I was about to slaughter, yes, but the satisfaction would be the same.

Not much later, I found myself with two tank divisions on the front of Poland.

And so began the second world war as depicted in C&C 0: Red Alert 1.