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 Random Muv-luv writings.

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Beast of Possibilities

Posts : 881
Join date : 2012-11-27
Age : 24

PostSubject: Random Muv-luv writings.   Tue Jan 22, 2013 5:50 pm

So, as you may (or may not [in which I question your memory and eyesight]) know, I've been slightly obsessed with Muv-luv lately. Specifically, this is directed at Muv-luv Alternative... and today, I wrote something.

The high-pitched cries of Jump Units passing overhead were muffled by only the sound of machinery around the dark blue Su-32. The interior of the hangar was busy as the Far East Soviet Army's 3rd Army, 6th Division, 209th Tactical Armored Battalion Akula was preparing for sortie. Akula was equipped for close-range support roles, as evidenced by their Su-32. The Su-32 Utkonos was a special variant of the well-designed Su-27 Zhuravlik. The change between the two was that the Utkonos can equip the AIM-54 Phoenix missile support system. This system—while abandoned by its origin country—is a staple of the Soviet army's Tactical Surface Fighter battalions. It had six missiles (three in each shoulder mount) which held cluster munitions to wipe out large numbers of BETA. And with how close the remaining Soviet territories are to being wiped out by BETA, the need for such a system is rather high.
Which is precisely why Batalon Akula was going on sortie. The four-man squadron was getting their final pre-flight checks. The tension was not just in the TSFs' cockpits. The mechanics within the hangar were in the sort of situation where if anything went wrong or if the many flights taking off from isolated coastal base of л-09 failed... their homes—and possibly their lives—would be lost. л-09 was a rather important base. One-third of the entire Soviet navy used this base as their main drydock and over half of the Soviet supply ships left from this base. But none of that would matter if the thirty flights of TSFs failed. The Soviet navy had repositioned two of its massive Sovetsky Soyuz-class battleships for naval artillery support in case the BETA got too close to the base... or if they needed to level the base. The Soviets would not let the BETA win, and neither would Akula.
A cracking sound called from the radio, signaling that it was close to time. A voice emerged from the cracking. It was a man's voice, speaking in a slightly-Polish accent. “Akula Flight. All things are green on our end. Requesting confirmation of Phoenix connection, over.”
I could see the Heads-Up Display via the retinal projectors. I glanced to the side to see that the left connection for the Phoenix was adequate, same for the right. It wasn't a surprise. The crews here would not make a mistake, especially now. No one needed to fuck up right now. “Hangar crew, this is Akula One. All things green on my end. Phoenix is secure and firing controls are linked. Over.” I did not need to make small talk. No, I needed to hurry. I could hear the other members of Akula flight report the same thing. Both the autocannons and the missile systems were a-okay.
“Roger that, Akula flight. Bring victory to the Motherland.” The head mechanic was a truly admirable patriot. He believed that our Mother Russia could solve anything. But who didn't agree with him? We stand toe-to-toe with the Americans, even though we have lost so much of our own territory. Our new Su-37 is being produced more and more, and I hear there's already a new one in the works that can defeat even the not-so-secret F-22 the Americans brag so much about.
His patriotism didn't inspire me. No, one man's patriotism would not. The entire base had its future relying on us as well as the other flights. The majority of our navy did as well. I would not let this base fall and our navy falter because we did something halfway. I would not let any of my flight do anything halfway either, and the same applied to other flights. I checked the vitals of my Utkonos one final time before opening the channel to all of Akula flight. “Akula One to Akula flight. Head to runway One-Seven and await orders from the tower. Over.”
The voices of men and women returned in unison an enthusiastic “Roger.”
I wonder how many of them would not make it back. These people depended on me. These are my comrades, my brothers and sisters, my subordinates. But... would I feel sad if they died? Would I be infuriated with them or myself if they died? Akula flight is known as the suicide flight. In every mission we've flown, one-half of the flight is lost. This is because of what we do. We fly above the BETA and release our missile payload as well as our assault cannons upon the disgusting creatures. We can't go too high or the Laser-class will shoot us right out of the sky. If we go too low, there's a chance of us crashing into the ground or the swarm of BETA. We dance on that thin line between death and death, with only the line we dance on being life. We also dance on the thin line between insanity and bravery, which slowly shrinks by the day. But which side of that will we eventually fall on?
I am the only member of Akula flight who has survived three missions or more while in this flight. It sounds cliché, but I'm not immune to damage. My second flight, I got cocky and let's say I survived, but the TSF didn't. It was my fourth flight that the only other person who had survived more than three flights was killed. A Fort-class appeared out of nowhere and he was not killed in an instant. The acid from its stinger melted him... I don't want to remember the screams. However, all of those were in open-ended plains. Today... today's flight is different. We're where the Laser-class don't have an advantage most of the time. We're in the river valleys.
The Utkonos lurched ahead, its two autocannons in hand. It took only a few minutes from the hangar to get to runway One-Seven. It was a walk of death. If we had any regrets or any sins to repent, this was our time to do so.
I had nothing to regret. I had no wife. I had no children. The only women I saw were those on base, and like the men, they were replaced constantly. My family is probably alive back around Leningrad... but I didn't keep in touch with them. It took too long for messages to leave this obscure and rural base and get across the Motherland. Besides, my mother and father both are disgusted by me being a pilot. I just smiled at them and said “good bye” before leaving to come to this icy hellhole. I expect to die on every flight I go on. I don't want to be known for being “noble” and saving someone while sacrificing myself.
I had nothing to repent. I spent my days either tuning the Su-32 I'm probably going to die in or reading the news. While it took us about two days longer to get news here than anywhere else... I still read it. I don't care if it's good news or bad news. I don't care if it's a death toll list or a name of a survivor found. I read it because it reminds me that I'm not alone in this fight. I may dislike the American ways and the European culture and the Japanese “samurai code,” but I respect most of them fighting. Their reasons are the same as mine. We fight to protect our homeland. We fight not for honor nor glory. That is what inspires me.
And then... we reached the solemn runway. As my Utkonos stepped onto the electromagnetic catapult, I could see the trails of the flight that took off before us. I would not falter. I would not wither. This is it. There is no backing out, not that I would anyways. The two clamps latched onto the feet of the steel coffin I was about to probably die in. No... I would not die. I would not die not because of divine protection. I would live not because of luck. I would live because I made it so. Though... thinking about it, it sounds really cheesy. It almost sounds like I've been death-flagged... I wonder if this is what the previous Akula flight members thought about.
“Tower to Akula flight. You have permission for takeoff. Over.” I almost missed that entire broadcast. I spaced out. I heard the end and I realized that it was time.
“Akula One to tower. I copy that.” My grip tightened. I could see the end of the runway ahead of me. The Utkonos crouched, the Jump Units rotating to their proper position. “Akula One, taking off.” There was no emotion in my voice. I had to keep myself from spacing out. Especially now. South of us, there was reportedly a large BETA force that would hit some of our bases in the Kamchatka Oblast. If we lost to the BETA here, they could head directly for the Kamchatka Oblast... and then we'd probably lose the Motherland. I will not let that happen. I must remove the self and become one with this delicate military destroyer. I would not die.

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Beast of Possibilities

Posts : 881
Join date : 2012-11-27
Age : 24

PostSubject: Re: Random Muv-luv writings.   Fri Jan 25, 2013 4:20 pm

The snow-covered hills flowed underneath me. It was a river of nothing but the white powder and the green trees and bushes that were too tall to get buried. It truly showed how bleak our world was. This world on the verge of being covered in nothing but bleak death... but why do we protect it? I don't know why... I don't know why we don't find somewhere else to live. Then I realized. It's because these beasts—the BETA—are nothing but outsiders. If humanity is going to be wiped out... we'll do it by our own hands. We won't let these outsiders do that.
Ahead, the river of snow and ice was being torn asunder. It looked like smoke bellowing from the forests ahead. One would think it was a fire, but I knew better. It was the sign that we were close. This was no fire... this was the snow caused by an armada of tanks rushing to provide support fire. Mingled above them were the massive Mi-24 gunship and Ka-50 attack helicopters. These two, when paired with the Soviet artillery support, created an unparalleled support system that could match a flight of TSFs in terms of anti-BETA countermeasures. The fact we could see the snow cloud... was proof that it was time to prepare for our strafing run.
“Akula One to Akula flight. Alter course for a wide-angle arc. No signs of BETA on radar.” This is it. The flight slowly adjusted their angle, and we slowly began heading away from the armada of support craft in front of us. Another window with “ЗВУК-ТОЛЬКО” (voice-only in Russian) popped up. I was slightly surprised. Only a few flights would communicate via sound only.
“Zakat One to Akula One. We have confirmed BETA three kilometers ahead of your location. We'll be needing your fire support.” The voice of a woman didn't surprise me. The voice belonging that woman is what surprised me. This woman was from the same base, but she was as well-known as the Scarlet Twins of Idar Test Flight. Anya Mistrokyia was her name, but she was moreso known as the “Snow Banshee.” She used her MiG-29OVT to its fullest, especially in close combat. The sound of her blade motors were the 'screeches' of the 'Banshee' that gave her that name.
“Akula One to Zakat One. Roger that. We'll be strafing in 180 seconds. Stay alive until then, Anya.” She hated her name. Despite being one rank lower than I was, she still scolded me for not calling her 2nd Lieutenant Mistrokyia. It's one of those weird surnames that I think was a misspelling on a form or something, but she refused to change it. So, I call her Anya instead. And I could hear her annoyance with her reply.
“Akula One, I'd advise you to use proper callsigns while in flight. But don't worry. We'll be fine. Burya flight has already removed the Laser presence in the area, so your flight will be fine.” Anya's tone really showed that there was something wrong. If I had to guess... things weren't going that good on the frontlines.
“Roger that.” I hate I couldn't say more. I couldn't give her reassurance that everything would be okay... because I had no clue myself. I'm powerless right now. That's when we saw it. It looked like an avalanche. The cloud of snow covered the terrain in front of us for kilometers. I could see no end to it. “Akula flight, drop altitude and begin the strafing arc. In thirty seconds, weapons go hot.”
The flight of Su-32s slowly dropped and began turning. My hands did not tremble, but I wanted to. I wanted to say “I'm scared.” Because I was terrified. By the time thirty seconds had finished passing... I could see the outlines of the front of the BETA horde. No doubt these things were creatures of nothing but destruction. The rumbling cloud ahead of us got ever so closer. I could see the tracers of Zakat flight. It was a good sign, because it signaled that Anya may still be alive. “Weapons hot. Begin strafing as soon as BETA are in your sights.” The twenty-four missiles were ready to launch at any time. They were loaded with cluster munitions, giving them a wide yet highly-explosive radius. The eight assault cannons adjusted their aim to the ground. The closer we got, the more of the disgusting aliens would could see. The Destroyer-class were at the forefront. Their vaulted head seemed like a shield, and that's exactly what it was. The shield that we could not get through.
Zakat flight was ahead of us. I slowly adjusted the aim on the assault cannons to the area in front of the OVTs in front of us. At least, that's what I wanted to do. From inside the cloud of snow, we could see the silhouettes of Fort-class. “Shit. Akula flight, change of plans. Disengage from strafing arc. Fort-class are in the snow cloud. We're taking them out instead.” The flight of Utkonos sharply turned. I re-adjusted my sights. Slowly and surely, the Fort-class emerged. Four of them. This meant we'd have to wipe out each one with an entire salvo from our missiles and we had no time. As soon as we got a red “Target Acquired,” we fired. The missiles did not miss. Maybe it was because these Fort-class were slightly slower than usual, but the reason didn't matter. The six cluster missiles hi the main body of the BETA, turning the massive beast into chunks of flesh and muscle with pools of its purple blood splattering the snow. The rest of Akula flight replicated the process, the other three collapsing in on their spindly legs.
I had to make a decision. We could continue the strafing arc with our assault cannons, or we could drop altitude and move in to directly support Zakat flight. If we continued with the planned mission, we'd leave more for Zakat flight, but the rest of the flights wouldn't have as many BETA to worry about. However, Zakat flight also had the dual purpose of being a reconnaissance flight, giving battle data to the other flights and to HQ. I then remembered there were two strafing flights—ours and Voskhod flight. “Akula One to Voskhod Three. Voskhod Three, what is your ETA to strafing position?”
“Voskhod Three to Akula One, ETA is one-hundred-eighty seconds. With afterburners on full, we'll be there in one-hundred-thirty.” A voice of another young man quickly responded. He almost interrupted me. This was Voskhod's first flight, so his haste was expected. I checked the ammunition situation. We didn't have extra assault cannons or extra ammunition. The AIM-54 took up most of the weight on the Su-32, and so we just had the two assault cannons and the AIM-54 as our ranged weapons. No extra ammunition. No extra weapons.
I decided that we'd support Zakat flight until Voskhod flight passed over us, then we'd rejoin the arc alongside Voskhod. “Roger that, Voskhod Three. Put afterburners on full, we need you here as soon as possible.” I switched the communication channel to my flight. “Akula One to Akula flight. We'll be landing and supporting Zakat flight until Voskhod is done strafing. After they pass, we'll rejoin their formation. We'll have to wait between one-hundred-thirty and one-hundred-eighty seconds until Voskhod is here, so conserve your ammunition.” The flight of Su-32s followed my lead. We turned around, heading back towards Zakat flight. I tightened the grip on my controls. It was about to begin.

Would we survive...?

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Random Muv-luv writings.
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