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>Pastebin: http://pastebin.com/u/Raptor-Chan
>Twitter link: https://twitter.com/Raptor_Chan
>Archives: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Muv-Luv%20Alternative%20Quest

You are Second Lieutenant Samuel Fischer of the United States Marine Corps Second Marine Expeditionary Unit, and right now you are conducting your final approach on Heligoland Base, having just gotten approval to touch down after a group of Swedish Gripens needed to make an emergency approach. Slowly throttling back the nuclear powered thrusters of the Avenger, you stabilize yourself in midair about ten yards above the landing zone for your squadron, gently touching back down onto solid ground once again. From there it’s a short walk into your hanger slot, where you and Foss both pop out of the cockpit, stretching your limbs after over half a day of confinement in the cramped TSA. Popping your helmet free, you breath in unfiltered sea air once again for the first time in what seemed like ages. Even better, Pam was nowhere in sight at the moment.

For that matter, it looked like you were the last ones back, your patrol leg having carried you the furthest away from the grids you were all assigned to. Chasing the boomer had also easily plopped you off course another hundred or so nautical miles as you had played grab ass 20,000 leagues under the sea. Ground crews were already hard at work clearing salt water deposits from engine exhausts and spraying off the rest to clear any residue that might cause rust to build up. Not all of a TSF was Super-Carbon, even in something as advanced as the A-12, and the internal mechanics would without a doubt need an inspection after that long underwater and going that deep.
>>
>>49137589
You and Foss hit the showers, occasionally chatting about whatever came to mind, before the two of you head to the Old Man’s office to grab a pair of debriefing papers. A mission like that would require such for you two, no doubt about that. The Old Man is on the phone, tapping his pen against a map arrayed on his desk, and doesn’t even give you or Foss a second look as you leave, much to your relief. Delaying the next inevitable ass chewing was fine in your mind. Back in your room, you eat a bland tasting ration bar as you slowly fill out the paperwork, carefully recording exactly what you’d done and the coordinates you’d been at when you’d called off the hunt due to oxygen. Normally, your debriefings were short and in the case of that clusterfuck two days ago, simply consisted of a quick timeline of events from your perspective and what you encountered on the battlefield.

Giving your writing a quick once over for any glaring mistakes unbecoming of an officer in the Corps, you put your pencil down and open your drawer to rummage for something you’d intended to get done yesterday as well. Your Grandfather’s bible, carried with him through the hellish nightmare of infantry combat in the Second World War, found itself in your hands as you pulled it out of the drawer and opened it. In the middle of the Psalms, the little list you had made soon after arriving.

A list of the dead.

The names of everyone in your squadron that had died on a mission since you’d arrived was on here. Morbid, but you had your reasons. Whenever you got home, you’d send a letter to each and every one of their families, explaining what had really happened to them, to the best of your abilities. You added four more to it tonight. Martin Johnson, Richard Miller, the former Silver-2, and Mitchell Reilly and Leonard Jones, Silver-4. Causes of death were added shortly after, along with the date. Sliding the list back into the bible, you put it back in the drawer.
>>
>>49137615
Finishing off your tasteless ration bar, you eye the clock and ponder your next move. It’s not too late to hand your debrief in yet, but the Old Man won’t expect it until tomorrow, considering the work load he’s under managing not only you but the Super Bug jocks helping the ground pounders out all along the front. Foss was probably in the rec room, hitting on whatever had a skirt he could, and who knew where the Commissar was.

>[ ] Join Foss

>[ ] Find Anje

>[ ] Deliver your report
>>
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>>49137637
>[ ] Join Foss
Just to cramp on his style.
>>
>>49137637
>>[ ] Find Anje
BULLYING
>>
>>49137728
>>49137729
>Possible tie

I'll give it a little more time.
>>
>>49137729
bullying is good
>>
>>49137637
>Find Anje
>>
>>49138239
change that to actualy
>[ ] Join Foss
>>
>>49137728
>>49137729
>>49138255
Votes called, writing.
>>
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>[ ] Join Foss

You shrug. Anje might be somewhere over Northern Germany right now for all you know, and it wasn’t like you had an excuse to visit her this time or anything. Disturbing the Old Man again probably wasn’t the best idea either. So throwing on your jacket again, you leave your room, seeking the one man you could count on to be doing at least something interesting right now, and had a good idea where he was. Foss.

The Marine section of the barracks was a good walk away from the rec room, and you had a good view of the stars out of the windows as you passed. The base was still active even this late at night, a cargo ship pulling into the harbor, the replacement parts and ammunition the base would need onboard. This was the closest spot to the front that still could take shipments for the time being until the engineering units could get stuff up on the continent, and as such had been stockpiled to hell and back beforehand, but even then we still needed more of everything.

Passing by a few Dutch pilots who gave you a friendly nod, you rounded the corner and slipped into the rec room. A variety of staff, pilots, guards off of duty, and mechanics all lazed around on the couches watching whatever British soap opera reruns were on this late, while a few others were shooting pool off in the corner. And Foss was in the opposite corner with some blonde haired chick, probably the one he’d become a buddy fucker over. You slid in next to one of the Norwegians around the pool table, listening in surreptitiously to Foss’ conversation.
>>
>>49138810
“So then I told him to launch the missiles-” Foss says, but then the blonde interrupts him. By slapping him in the fucking face. The sound is quite satisfying, as is the sight of Foss’s smug mug after impact.

“YOU DID THAT? CRAZY AMERICAN!!!” You catch the three crowns of the Swedish roundel on the shoulder of her sleeve as she smacks him once again before Foss can speak. “I RIGHT NEXT TO WHOLE THING, WHY SHOOT!”

Oh.

>[ ] As much of a buddy fucker as Foss might be, he didn’t actually launch those Harpoons. Back him up

>[ ] If the rest of her squadron is as pissed about that little event as she is, it’s probably time to make yourself scarce

>[ ] Savor Foss’ ust desserts
>>
>>[X] Savor Foss’ ust desserts
I have no idea what's going on here, or anything about Muv-Luv, but I would like to see somebody get their arse handed to them.
>>
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>>49138832

>[ ] As much of a buddy fucker as Foss might be, he didn’t actually launch those Harpoons. Back him up
WE ARE THAT CRAZY AMERICAN. DEAL WITH IT.
>>
>>49137589
DAMMIT MAN! I THOUGHT YOU HAD QUIT! I had given up hope man! -Sniffle-
>>
>>49138832
>[ ] Savor Foss’ ust desserts
Mmm... Foss' pain is like delicious candy to me.... just delectable!

But afterwards...
>[ ] As much of a buddy fucker as Foss might be, he didn’t actually launch those Harpoons. Back him up
>>
>>49138981
second this
>>
>>49138981
You missed a thread, just sayin'
>[ ] If the rest of her squadron is as pissed about that little event as she is, it’s probably time to make yourself scarce
N O P E
>>
>>49138988
Foss is an asshole, who only cares about getting his dick wet. It's nice to know the swedes don't take kindly to his shit. And that's why his ass getting handed to him his utterly delicious.... mmm you can almost TASTE his tears and anger!
>>
>>49139015
So let him get yelled at for awhile then pull him out of the fire like the not-buddyfucker that we are.
>>
By the way, we're all still in agreeance to replace all the faces of Anje's non-personal pictures with that of our own, right?
>>
>>49139100
Exactly! Though in the end we still throw his ass under the bus (say he ordered it or something if it seems like they'll pound our skills in)

>>49138998
WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN!?! TELL ME!!!
>>
>>49138893
>>49138921
>>49138981
>>49138988
>>49138998
Votes called, writan
>>
>>49139134
couple days ago
>>49083333
>>
>>49139245
Dammit! That pisses me off! But at least I didn't miss to much I guess. Especially since we were just dealing with commuinst sub captain, Rob Schnieder
>>
>>49139359
yeah we were just playing grabass with a boomer, its not like you missed Anje bullying or anything important like that.
>>
>>49138832
Making Foss duvet might be fun. Wait, dammit. Oh well.

I'll be out of work in a free, hopefullyy were still going by then! Good to see you back Raptor!
>>
>>49139393
There's few things better then bullying a tiny Commissar! Especially when said bullying includes us cutting out the faces of all her propaganda posters and then replacing them with our own. And then having a 1:1 scale cut out of us left in her room
>>
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>[ ] Savor Foss’s just desserts
>[ ] As much of a buddy fucker as Foss might be, he didn’t actually launch those Harpoons. Back him up

Everyone takes a look at the commotion of Foss and the Swedish pilot, before returning to whatever they were doing beforehand as Foss desperately tries to salvage his ass before she puts a boot up it.
“Wait, you were in that Swedish squadron we sav-“

“We didn’t need help Americans! We still had weapons! Could have fought on!” She tries to slap Foss again, but sadly he manages to back pedal out of her reach, raising his arms in a conciliatory gesture. She starts to berate him in Swedish, and while you can’t understand a single fucking word coming out of her mouth, the meaning is pretty obvious. You watch Foss try to escape the corner she’s managed to heard him into with some amusement as she keeps up the fusillade of what you can guess are insults mixed with the occasional English swear.

After about a minute of it, that dark despicable part of your heart where your empathy for your RIO resides finally acts up again. As much of a buddy fucker as he might be, letting him get humiliated like this really won’t help you twist the knife in yourself.

Stepping up, you tap the Swedish pilot on the shoulder. She turns around, and on seeing your uniform tries to slap you as well, but this time you’re expecting it and duck out of the way just in time.
“Hey hey, easy, I know he’s a skirtchasing fucktard, but no need to get violent right?”

She just swears at you in Swedish again but she doesn’t swing again. “You! You were the one laughing!”

Fuck. Foss took advantage of the distraction and slipped out of the corner behind her back and was making for the door, and you start stepping back as well, the Swedish Valkyrie in front of you hell-bent on extracting blood for whatever insult to her you somehow caused by getting that missile salvo launched.
>>
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>>49139545
“Well, erm, I-“ you say, dodging the next slap she throws out as you do so, “I can explain. Really.”

“Explain how you are crazy? I knew that!”

>[ ] Engage ECM, disengage from the bandit

>[ ] Play aggressive, burn her energy out

>[ ] Call for backup!
>>
>>49139567
>>[ ] Play aggressive, burn her energy out
>>
>>49139584
Second this.

After all, we've already got a mechanic on our ass that we have to hide from. We don't need the swedes on us as well. Let's just wear her out until she's ready to listen. If she isn't then we'll pull back
>>
>>49139567
>Play aggressive, burn her energy out
>>
>>49139567
>[ ] Play aggressive, burn her energy out
>>
>>49139567
>>[ ] Play aggressive, burn her energy out
>>
>>49139584
>>49139672
>>49139679
>>49139689
>>49139691
Votes called, pretty lopsided right now.
>>
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>>49139567

>[ ] Play aggressive, burn her energy out
>>
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>[ ] Play aggressive, burn her energy out

You really, really don’t want to deal with this shit for the sake of Foss, but since he’s once again left you holding the bag, you don’t really have a choice now. You keep backpeddling as fast as you can, blocking her attempted slaps whenever you’re not able to dodge them, but really you’re just playing for time as you end up getting drawn into the hall. The Swedish pilot keeps insulting you in that fucking weird god damn singing language that Swedish is. It really doesn’t fit the angry tone or absolutely fucking pissed face she has, that’s for sure.

Dodging yet another slap to the face, you stumble outside into the cold night air, pursued closely by the vengeful Valkyrie. Finally, you make a counter move, grabbing one of her wrists as she tries to slap you once again, and pressing it against the wall.

“Calm the fuck down!” you shout at her, before she manages to actually land a pretty nice smack right onto your face. Like hell are you going to pissy out like your RIO over this sort of bullshit, and the next time she tries you grab her other wrist and pin her against the wall.

After trying to knee you in the balls for about five fucking minutes, swearing all the while, the Swedish pilot finally stops, out of breath.

“Now, listen to me; I was the one who first shot that missile shit, and I’m not going to apologize for saving your fucking meatball eating ass now, or fucking ever, you understand? I was doing my fucking job, so calm the fuck down!”

She spits in your face, but doesn’t try to do anything else after you let go of her wrists, stepping back.
>>
>>49140130
“I won’t accept that sort of apology, Marine. You could have killed us all.”

“But we didn’t. Deal with it.” You say, wiping the spit off your face, and staring the Valkyrie down again.

>[ ] Apologize for… something. Maybe you can get her to not be a fucking psycho bitch

>[ ] Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss

>[ ] Find Foss, and chew his fucking ass off because god fucking damn it
>>
>>49140144
>>[ ] Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss
then

>[ ] Find Foss, and chew his fucking ass off because god fucking damn it
>>
>>49140144
>>[ ] Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss
>>[ ] Find Foss, and chew his fucking ass off because god fucking damn it
>>
>>49140144
>[ ] Find Foss, and chew his fucking ass off because god fucking damn it
>>
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>>49140144

>[ ] Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss
>>
>>49140144
>Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss
>>
>>49140144
>[ ] Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss

>[ ] Find Foss, and chew his fucking ass off because god fucking damn it.

After that, we bully the Commissar while she's away!
>>
>>49140174
>>49140189
>>49140193
>>49140202
>>49140217
>>49140246
Votes called, writing.
>>
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>[ ] Get her to explain why the fuck she went off on Foss

You don’t do shit for a few seconds, the two of you just looking at each other before she breaks eye contact. Seizing the opportunity, you throw a question back at her.
“That can’t be just it why you’re pissed. Did Foss try and grab you or any of that shit? He’s a fucking moron but I’ve never heard of him getting handsy before.”

She shook her head, looking back at you with cold hate in her eyes. “No. If he’d tried that you’d be dealing with a corpse.” Yeesh. Your spine tingled a little bit at that. Miss Valkyrie was entirely serious. She continued, staring you down once again. “Do you know why I was angry? Because you fired off enough high explosives to kill all of us four or five times over? Oh no, that’s the tip of this… thing in the water, you know –“

“Iceburg?”

“Yes, iceburg. We were fine, no matter what the captain said. We can take Europe back ourselves, we don’t need any Americans coming in and making us little more than puppets.”

You groan internally. This fucking conspiracy theory again. There’s no way you’re telling her otherwise right now.

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t take anything back when you’re dead.” You take a quick glance at her chest and identify her nametag. Karlsson. Probably the same rank as you too. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you over this. Let’s just agree none of this shit every happened, and get back to whatever we should be doing.”

You stick your hand out for her to shake, but she just turns around and walks back inside. The bitch. A couple of minutes pass as you watch the ships in the port unload their cargo.

>[ ] Foss needs to get fucking reamed over this. Fucker should have learned his lesson long ago

>[ ] Follow the Swede, see if you can get her captain to help talk some fucking sense into him

>[ ] Maybe the Commissar’s around. Maybe you can arrange another Helga incident for Foss…
>>
>>49140609
>[ ] Foss needs to get fucking reamed over this. Fucker should have learned his lesson long ago
>>
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>>49140609

>[ ] Foss needs to get fucking reamed over this. Fucker should have learned his lesson long ago

>[ ] Follow the Swede, see if you can get her captain to help talk some fucking sense into him
>>
>>49140609
>>[ ] Maybe the Commissar’s around. Maybe you can arrange another Helga incident for Foss…
>>
>>49140609
>[ ] Foss needs to get fucking reamed over this. Fucker should have learned his lesson long ago

>[ ] Maybe the Commissar’s around.

Those pictures aren't going to replace themselves!
>>
>>49140609
>>[ ] Foss needs to get fucking reamed over this. Fucker should have learned his lesson long ago
>>[ ] Maybe the Commissar’s around.
>>
>>49140759
I love how we're almost always on the same page when it comes to this quest.
>>
>>49140869
Well that's because Anje is designed for bullying.
>>
>>49140636
>>49140690
>>49140731
>>49140731
>>49140740
>>49140759
Writing, votes called.
>>
>>49140882
True enough
>>
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>[ ] Foss needs to get fucking reamed over this. Fucker should have learned his lesson long ago

The few minutes you had to wait have given you a clearer picture of what must occur in order to prevent another incident like this. It was severe, possibly an overreaction, but you have decided it must be done for the sake of your sanity and that of the female population of Heligoland Island.

You’re going to have to castrate that fucking blue falcon.

Walking back into the base, you asked a couple of the other pilots where your idiot of a RIO had gone, and they were more than happy to oblige. Grabbing a wrench out of the hanger as you walked past, whistling merrily as you headed towards Foss’s room. Kicking the door open, you put on your most fucking psychotic grin as you thumped the head of the wrench against your palm.

“Hey Foss? How attached are you to your junk?” you say, and Foss goes pale. The fucker is sitting on his bed, paging through some kind of porno mag that looks vintage as fuck, and attempts to stutter a reply out before you swing the wrench between his legs. You miss, sadly enough, but he springs into action

“Sam, what the fu-“
>>
>>49141218
You grab his throat and slam his head against the back of the wall.

“Listen to me Joe. You have me at the fucking end of my rope since you sold me out to the Old Man, and you ditched me again tonight to deal with that fucking psycho Swedish chick alone.” You tap the head of the wrench against his thigh to emphasize your point as he struggles to breath. “So next time you fucking think with your dick while you’re still my assigned radio operating bitch, I swear to fucking Christ I will smash your family jewels to bits and damn the consequences. Capeche?”

He struggles to nod, and you relax your grip, before falling back into his desk chair.

“Fucking Christ Fischer, have you gone fucking nuts?” he hoarsely says, rubbing his throat.

“Yeah, I guess I have tonight, thanks for that.”

“You need to like relax, and get some fucking action.”

“What, like you? Yeah, no, I’d rather not try and stick my dick to everything with a rack like you do.”

“Why not just fuck the Commissar then?” Foss says, tossing the the porno mag back under his bed. “She’s into you dude, she’s been for fucking months and you keep not chasing that.”

“Yeah, because unlike you I give a shit about fraternization regulations, and would rather not spend time in the Stasi Funhouse.”

“I thought they got rid of them in the fall?”

“Fuck if I know, maybe that’s a ruse. Can’t tell with the commies you know?” You say, tapping the wrench against the desk.

“Yeah, but you still need to get laid.” Foss says.

>[ ] Agree

>[ ] Disagree

>[ ] Just don’t fuck me over again
>>
>>49141232
>[ ] Just don’t fuck me over again
>>
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>>49141232

>[ ] Just don’t fuck me over again
>>
>>49141232
>>[ ] Agree
>[ ] Just don’t fuck me over again
>>
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>>49141232
>[ ] Agree, but I'll do it when I feel ready.

>[ ] Just don’t fuck me over again

ITS HAPPENING!!!
>>
>>49141247
>>49141259
>>49141260
>>49141270
Vote called, writing.
>>
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“If I need to get laid, well then I need to get laid, but no matter what you need to stop fucking pulling me into your shit.” You say, twirling the wrench around.

“It’s just getting fucking beyond the point where you need to stop.”

Foss grins. “Fine. I’ll keep my dick on a leash. That nurse is good enough for now.”

“Keep it that way. Please.” With that you step up again, walking out of the room. Foss probably won’t keep his word for more than a week regarding his womanizing, but that was fucking fine by you as long as he didn’t do something insanely stupid to fuck you over again. Returning the wrench to the hanger, you head back to your room, laying down on your bed. Sleep was hard enough to come by on good days, and this sure as shit wasn’t a good one. Slipping into the arms of Morpheus, a dream comes to mind…

>[ ]The past

>[ ]The present

>[ ]The future
>>
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>>49141526

>[ ]The future

Cutessar and Swed Valkyrie soon combo I hope.
>>
>>49141526
>>[ ]The future
>>
>>49141526
>>[ ]The future
>>
>>49141526
>The future

>>49141552
I'm happy as long as it's our little German Commissar!
>>
>>49141552
>>49141554
>>49141585
>>49141635
Votes called, writing.
>>
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>[ ] The future

“Hey, you awake?”

You stare at the blank face looking at you, sunlight gently filtering through the window of the room you were in. You blink. The face resolves into one you can’t recognize, but is beyond familiar.

“We need to go.”

You just nod, as the world swims and morphs around you, the scenery eventually settling on a place of vast rolling fields, beyond which you can see the fences that once held nations behind them. She drags you towards them, the rusting wires dangling from bent poles gently rocking in the wind as the son heated down overhead. You knew this place. You knew it very well.

“The camps.” You said, kneeling down by the roads that had been built before you were even born to haul people and supplies where they were to be stored until they could go. Tall towers had once watched over the horizon, but now little more than their foundations were visible, as the buildings all around but the fence line had been taken away. She pulls you past the line, towards the center.

“So they lived here?” She asked, standing in the middle of what used to be a residential district. You remembered when it was still there, full of life and people. Now, nothing stood here, the structures that had been hauled into place torn down yet the ghosts of buildings still haunted this place.

“Yeah. So did I for a while.”

“Why? You weren’t one of them…”

“It’s complicated.” You say, gesturing her forwards. There was more to see. Towards the center of the camp stood a lonely sentinel, looking towards the sun. Old. Worn. But still there, left to remind themselves of where they’d came from.

Marks and symbols adorned it’s every surface, of countries once lost and now returned to, of places and people lost to war and consumed, and words of thanks for the shelter the old sentinel had provided, in places far across the ocean. You’d flown it here, a year ago. In the shadow of the old machine, you looked at her once again.
>>
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>>49142065
“Do you want to go back? Or stay here?”

You never heard her response, but you saw the expression on her face, and it told you everything you needed to know. She wouldn’t leave you. Not now. Not ever.

And that was all you needed to know.

You woke up soon after that, groggily grabbing breakfast and heading for the briefing room after handing your report into the old man. Foss was sitting next to you, and you weren’t the only squad here either. You could see Miss Valkyrie and what you guessed was her group, along with Anje’s Squad. This was big, bigger than even the launch you’d done to start out the invasion. The Captain was right next to you too, a slight frown on her face.

>[ ] Talk to Foss

>[ ] Talk to the Captain

>[ ] Stay quiet
>>
>>49142081
>[ ] Talk to the Captain
>>
>>49142081
>Talk to Anje.

If that's not an option then

>Keep quiet
>>
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>>49142081
>[ ] Stay quiet
>>
>>49142081
>>[ ] Talk to the Captain
>>
>>49142124
this'll do I guess.
>>
>>49142223
My brother!

Though I guess this means it's a flip of the coin, or we get both the captains, and Anjes side of things
>>
>>49142096
>>49142124
>>49142139
>>49142190
>>49142223
Votes called; writing.
>>
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>>49140144
>not being a prefer and wiping her spit off your face and putting it in your mouth

COME ON

>>49140343
I feel like you guys had a chance to start worming her into the harem and missed it.

>>49142332
Oh thank God, were still going!

>Talk to Foss

Though I know already called.
>>
>>49142801
Jesus h Christ man!

Sam may be an ass, but he's no Foss. That's whole "eatting her spit" would be his sthick
>>
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>>49142801
>[ ] Stay quiet

You keep your mouth shut, waiting for whoever was going to be delivering whatever briefing you were about to get to just climb up on the podium and get started. Thankfully, you were rewarded as the Old Man walked up following the head honcho of the base, some British guy who’d lost a leg in the invasion of Britain two decades ago but somehow had been able to keep himself in the service. A real hardass, from the scuttlebutt you’d picked up off the RAF pilots. The General rapped a cane on the podium, and everyone fell silent as he cleared his throat.

“Alright gents and gentleladies, let’s all perk our ears up for this, because I shan’t tell you all this again,” his voice boomed, the obvious upper crust British accent oozing through every word. “Sergeant Max, hit the projector please, and kill the lights.”

The lights in the large briefing room faded, and the large screen was quickly covered by a massive map of Europe, with various locations and long destroyed towns marked out clearly on the map. Various lines marked the advances of troops on the continent, and clusters of symbols distinguished the variety of units deployed all along the front.

“As all you lads know, at roughly 0600 hours two days ago, we initiated the largest invasion in human history, Operation Rollback, with our actions in seizing the Jutland peninsula and North German coast to draw BETA forces towards our location. And if you’ve been listening to the wonderful BBC fellows, you’ll also have heard about the landings up in Norway and down in Aquitaine, which have just been smashing successes, absolutely beyond expectations. Lyons Hive should be taken by NATO forces within the week, barring any unexpected troubles.”
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>>49142910
He rapped his cane against the stand once again, before using it to point out the general area we were in. The slide changed, zooming in on the Northern part of Germany and Denmark, with a variety of forces all emblazoned. Seven corps, including the US one that your expeditionary unit was attached to were deployed in a line protecting several locations.

“Now, while we are currently somewhat secure in our positions, the time table is ticking for us to press out of our initial beachheads, and keep control of what natural harbors we’ve seized. Casualties are relatively light currently, but the main BETA force hasn’t collided with our lines quite yet, and that’s where we all come in.” He tapped the cane against the slide once more, and it changed again.

“Now, recon satellites and some high flying spycraft have been keeping an eye on what BETA formations are moving overland and in general, we seem to have correctly guessed their responses. The forces moving against us are primarily from Lyon’s and Budapest, though some of the eggheads think the Minsk hive might give them a hand. So with that in mind, command has decided to activate their planned response to buy time to get our heavy mechanized divisions into the fight.” Lines had appeared crisscrossing the map, marking what TSF Squadron’s and Wings would strike the projected BETA columns to clear the way for the initial beachhead units to reach more defendable positions.

“We will clear the ground of whatever Lasers and Heavy Lasers approach, and keep the bastards busy as we can with harassment strikes while reinforcing the lines. As such, we will divide ourselves over these three sectors with a reserve kept here to plug whatever gaps we need.”
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>>49142932
“Once we’ve cleared the Lasers to an acceptable level, we will counter attack and attempt to push as far south along the Rhine as we can while maintaining a coherent line. As soon as the Lyons hive is cleared, those forces will attempt to link up with us, and we’ll make our next moves from there.” He cleared his throat. “Pilots, I know I ask much of you, but it is not just I who does so. The world, and Europe is counting on us to succeed here. Your individual commanders will relate the specific details to you before you launch later today. Good luck, and god speed!”

Nobody makes a sound as you start to filter out of the briefing room.

You’re going back. Back there.

You called it hell. They called it Bremerhaven.

>[ ] Find Anje before the Old Man gives you details

>[ ] Stick with Schultz

>[ ] Other
>>
>>49142952
>>[ ] Find Anje before the Old Man gives you details
>>
>>49142952
>>[ ] Stick with Schultz
>>
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>>49142952

>[ ] Find Anje before the Old Man gives you details

She's going to need a lot of cheering up.
>>
>>49142952

>[ ] Find Anje before the Old Man gives you details
>>
>>49143015
>>49143017
>>49143097
>>49143100

Votes called, but I'm also going to end up calling it here for the night. Any questions?
>>
>>49143197
Sure. Why is Anje so cute?
>>
>>49143197
When is the next thread? Perhaps tomorrow(Saturday) or Sunday?

When the fuck are we going to alter Anjes propaganda posters to have our face on them!

Also, where can we get a life sized cut out of Sam?
>>49143202
This is also a good question comrade
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>>49142952
Find Anje. We need to bully some confidence and happiness into her.

Onwards to Hell, lads. I like this British General guy. His ancestor must have been at Rorke's Drift.

Also pleased for some reason to see Swedes are paranoid and suspicious in general.
>>
>>49143253
My god those jiggle physics.... it's like watching two water balloons that are each filled to the brim with hopes, dreams, and happiness of men...

But I'm in agreeance with you man
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>>49143202
The Commissar is cute because she is filled with the love the party carries for the people and the strength of the nation in these harsh times. Upon her shoulders the struggle of the workers shall be carried, into the future.

>>49143241
Next thread next week. Probably around the same time as tonight's. Again, follow the twitter. I'll keep you guys as updated as possible on the situation.

>>49143253
More like every god damn battle the brits have fought since Napoleon. He's carrying on a grand tradition.

And why wouldn't the Swedes be paranoid? Sweden in general in the Cold War was beyond paranoid.
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>>49143320
God damn any man who can look into those eyes and not see a future of happiness!
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>>49143320
Not saying it's out of place. It's just neat, considering Stella was also rather well, suspicious.

>>49143309
Let us curse age forever for not doing her route, shopping with Cui and Yui's.
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>>49143253
do boobs jiggle like that in this universe? Please say no.
>>
>>49143384
Maybe in zero g
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>>49143384
When you're Stella's size, they do.
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>>49143413
I mean, she's supposedly has the largest breasts in universe (and that's considering most women in this universe are c+ minimums.) I think I read hers are G's? I don't remember where. But I know I did.

>>49143378
Personally, I kinda like chobi just as much as stella. Maybe it's because of her jib and all.
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>>49143449
She's one of the contenders, certainly.

And of course Chobi is cute as fuck too. I love how she and VG are
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>>49143838
R-Raptor-senpai, are you alive?
>>
Raptor my man, did you fall asleep at the desk?



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