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- >Be Russian Air Force pilot in MiG-29
- >Circa 2008
- >During South Ossetia War with Georgia
- >You are stationed at Nal'Chik Air Base, near the Russia-Georgia border
- >There is a chain of mountains separating you from the enemy airbases, Kutaisi and Tskhakaya
- >Today you're flying CAP along the border of Georgia, with your wingman
- >AWACS will be covering you, callsign 227
- >On the ramp, shortly after mission briefing
- >Ground crews scurry away after loading pylons with R-73 and R-27ER Air-to-Air missiles
- >You put your flight helmet on, and flip down the visor like a boss
- >You climb the ladder into your glorious aircraft
- >You can smell the jet fuel in the cockpit, carried by a calm morning breeze
- >Today will be a good day
- >You spool up the engines, flicking switches and pressing buttons as usual
- >You test the controls, everything looks good, and you have full freedom of movement
- >After a few minutes, oil pressure and temp, as well as engine RPM are in the green
- >You switch to various weapons systems, testing their functionality, and verify your ammo loaded in your cannon
- "Nal'chik, 717, request taxi to the active."
- >"717, Nal'chik, taxi to runway 24, surface winds 230 at 2 meters per second."
- >And with that, you ease the throttle forward, and the aircraft lurches forward onto the taxiway
- >Your wingman follows close behind
- >After navigating to the runway, you hold short, and lower your flaps
- "Nal'chik, 717, request takeoff, runway 24."
- >"717, Nal'chik, cleared for takeoff, runway 24, climb 300 at QFE 762.3."
- >You taxi onto the left side of the runway, your wingman takes the right side
- >No matter how many times you do this, it never gets old
- >You briskly push the throttle forward to 100%, and your two powerful engines roar
- >You are pushed into your seat as the MiG sprints forward
- >Your wingman speaks up
- >"Two, rolling."
- >A pair of small annunciator lights turn green, signifying that your afterburner has kicked in
- >Raw jet fuel is currently being sprayed into your exhaust, leaving a cone of pure fire and hell behind you
- >Jesus fuck this is awesome
- >In mere seconds, you reach 250 km/h, and slowly pull back on the stick
- >Your nose gently lifts off the concrete runway
- >A little more pulling... and...
- >Airborne.
- >You pull the landing gear lever up, and a corresponding annunciator light shows that your gear is up
- >"Two, gear up."
- >Almost as one organism, you and your wingman form up and bank in the direction of your assigned route
- >You engage the autopilot and select the "waypoint" navigation submode
- >Your aircraft is now flying itself
- >You glance back over your right shoulder, and your wingman is right next to you, aft
- >Your HUD says you have another 80km to go before you reach the next waypoint
- >You think of what you may encounter today
- >Nothing much, probably some F-5s or F-4s
- >Fucking Georgians and their ancient hand-me-downs
- >Eating out of the toilet that America shits in
- >The F-5s were the easiest to kill
- >Usually they were only armed with AIM-9s
- >Short-range IR missiles
- >They can't track targets more than 6km out
- >You lol in your head
- >Just stay out of range and pick them off with your superior R-27ERs and ETs
- >They drop like fucking flies
- >Now, the F-4s, ancient as they are, are still a bit more dangerous
- >They are armed with AIM-120s, and can hit from a distance
- >But, Georgians still can't shoot for shit
- >So no fucks were given, no jimmies rustled
- >You call up AWACS anyway, to double-check threats that weren't on your briefing
- "227, 717, say contacts."
- >"717, 227, clean."
- >Huh, kinda odd
- >No enemy aircraft
- >Still, no fucks given
- >Until your SPO-15 Radar Warning Receiver emits a passive, low-frequency "boop" into your headset
- >"Two, spike, 2 o'clock."
- >Dafuq
- >Someone sees you on their radar
- >You glance at the SPO-15 (pic related)
- >Another boop
- >You see an п (Russian character) illuminated on the SPO-15
- >This means it's another aircraft radar
- >Your jimmies are starting to rustle, very slightly
- "227, 717, say contacts."
- >"717, 227, clean."
- "227, say again...?"
- >"717, 227, I say again, no contacts."
- >What the fuck is going on here
- >boop
- "Two, you copy that spike?"
- >"Roger, lead, I have the spike on the RWR."
- >Your jimmies went from 0 to rustle in a half second
- "227, 717, reporting unknown contact, 40km out, off our 2 o'clock."
- >boop
- >"717, 227, I am negative on that contact... what are your intentions, 717?"
- >Why the fuck would he have to ask?
- "227, 717, request permission to engage unknown contact."
- >boop
- >"717, 227, unknown contact is presumed hostile. You are cleared to engage."
- "Copy, cleared to engage, 717."
- >You glance back down at the SPO-15
- >Fuck, the thing's getting closer, 30 km
- >You disengage the autopilot, and enter BVR (beyond visual range) mode
- "Two, set ECM and Radar on."
- >You instananeously do this as soon as you tell your wingman to
- >You check the annunciator panel, and see the green ECM light flashing
- >Good, it's warming up
- >boop
- >"Two, ECM and Radar on."
- >Whatever this thing is, you're going to make sure it becomes a fireball
- >You slam the throttle to its most forward position, and you jolt back into your seat
- >Trying to get within missile range as quickly as possible
- >Boop
- >Your wingman is trying to keep up
- >You're really hauling ass, now
- >1,100 km/h and still gaining speed
- >It's as if an angel was pushing you
- >boop
- >You check the SPO-15
- >A "B" and "H" are illuminated, the thing is about the same altitude as you
- >20 km out
- >Just outside missile range
- >Then, you see the contact on your HUD, picked up by your radar
- >It's just one green dot
- >Your radar measures things with green dots, the more dots, the bigger
- >F-5s are usually at least two dots in size
- >Whatever this thing is, it's small
- >And fucking fast
- >You lock the contact
- >A round circle now envelops the green dot
- "One, engaging bandit."
- >One more second of waiting, for good measure
- >You press the pickle button on the stick
- >An R-27ER falls off the left inner-most pylon
- >Then, it shoots forward, emitting a white trail, with a distinctive "WHOOSH" (pic related)
- >The onboard radar guides the missile to its target
- >The missile's one goal in life
- >Its only purpose of existence
- >Is to kill the enemy
- >You wait a few moments
- >Nothing
- >Fire another one, just to be sure
- >WHOOSH
- >More waiting
- >What the fuck
- >Still nothing, no fireball
- >Your SPO-15 tells you that the contact is 10 km out
- "Two, engage bandit!"
- >"Two, engaging bandit"
- >There is some serious fuckery going on here
- >Your jimmies are rustled to the max
- >Your wingman fires both R-27ERs at once
- >This... "thing"... will die
- >You are sure of it
- >More waiting
- >Nothing
- >If your jimmies weren't rustled before, they sure as fuck are now
- >Your SPO-15, booping along as it were, is now screeching into your headset
- >BEEEEEEP
- >Then
- >DITDITDITDITDIT
- >OH SHIT
- >Your wingman frantically calls out
- >"Two, missile launch, 12 o'clock!"
- >You idiot, you let the damn thing get withing IR range!
- >Fuck, you're a dumbass
- "One, engaged defensive!"
- >You break formation and barrel roll to the left, dumping flares as you do so
- >You dive toward the ground, and roll to the right, and fly almost vertical
- >You try anything to shake the missile
- >Your wingman was trying the same, albeit in a different pattern of maneuvers
- >The missile flies past you, and, realizing it had been duped for the flares, it explodes
- >Fucking Georgians and their outdated seeker heads
- >Then, you see the aircraft turn toward you
- >"You wanna fight, I'll show you a fight!" you say to yourself
- >You switch to your cannon
- >Your closing speed exceeds 2,000 km/h
- >Putting the pipper on the target, you squeeze the trigger
- >BRRRRRRT
- >30mm rounds fly forward in an orange arc
- >It was in vain, as none meet their target
- >Suddenly, the enemy aircraft flies past you
- >Time seems to slow down
- >You can see the aircraft in detail
- >...a rainbow paint job?
- >all of your wat
- >Time resumes, and you instinctively pull back on the stick for an Immelmann maneuver
- >The enemy continues its path toward the ground
- >You strain against the forces of gravity, trying to keep the blood from pooling in your extremities
- >Your G-suit inflates and squeezes your lower body
- >Completing the turn, you are now on the enemy's six o'clock
- >You fire one of your R-73's, a short-range IR missile
- >After about a second of travel, the missile is briefly wrapped in a strange purple aura
- >What...
- >The actual...
- >Fuck...
- >It explodes, completely missing its target
- >Instantly, your aircraft is enveloped in the same purple aura
- >There is a strange sound coming from it
- >Almost like your ears are ringing
- >Then, your MiG-29 crumples in half, jet fuel exploding in a huge fireball
- >You have no time to react
- >You pull the ejection handle
- >Small explosives detonate the canopy off of the fuselage
- >You are thrown outside the burning wreck by rockets
- >The earth tumbles before you
- >Sky, ground, sky, ground
- >You fall for what seems like hours
- >You cannot hear anything because of the wind rushing past your head
- >Not even the roar of the aircraft above
- >Suddenly, your parachute opens
- >The ejection seat plummets to the ground
- >You groan and wince against the straps now holding your body weight by your groin and armpits
- >You look up and see your burning aircraft plummet toward the earth, pieces occasionally falling off
- >You realize you had no time to warn your wingman
- >You look up, past your parachute, and see your wingman suffer the same fate
- >There is no ejection.
- >You are overcome by a sudden urge to throw up
- >And do as such
- >You look down, and see the earth rushing up to meet you
- >In the same instant you hear an explosion
- >Tall Georgian pine trees are just below
- >You are sure you will get tangled
- >The sound of the enemy jet roaring away fills your ears
- >You had never been this scared in your entire comabt career as you were these last few moments
- >You are truly, really, in fear for your life
- >You look down again, just in time for you to be caught in the the thick branches of some tall pine trees
- >Branches whip your face very hard
- >You get small cuts and scratches all over your body
- >Suddenly, you are yanked to a stop
- >Your parachute has caught on the canopy of one of the pines
- >Fuck, there has to be a way out of this
- >You are a good 8 or so meters off the ground
- >Then, you remember your combat knife
- >You never thought you would ever use it
- >You unzip one of your flight suit pockets and pull out the knife
- >You start cutting at the left strap
- >More cutting
- >Almost... there...
- >Your body is now hanging on the chute by one strap
- >Cut through the other one and you're free
- >You start cutting
- >Again
- >You're almost done, when the strap breaks under the weight of your body
- >You fall to the ground, dropping the knife
- >More branches whipping your face
- >Your head hits the cold, hard, ground
- >In the moments before you black out, you thought you could hear
- >Helicopter rotors
- >You wake in a musty, dark room
- >Your head is throbbing with pain
- >You reach to grab it, and notice your flight helmet is missing
- >Your green flight suit is still on
- >Without your sidearm, or the knife you dropped
- >You look around
- >The floor, walls, and ceiling are a dark blue rock
- >Metal bars block the only entrance
- >Screams of pain and moaning echo in the distance
- >Where the fuck are you
- >Your concern of your location vanishes when the metal bars creak open
- >Something enters
- >it's not human, it's walking on all fours
- >ohfuck.jpg
- >clopclopclopclop
- >huh
- >wat
- >???
- >you blink
- >something hard hits you in the head
- >blackout
- >Fucking hell
- >Your head feels like a watermelon ran over by a Sherman
- >You open your eyes
- >Blinding light everywhere
- >what the fuck
- >You involuntarily shut your eyes
- >You try to move
- >And fail
- >You're chained up on a wall
- >Suddenly, a booming feminine voice nearly crushes your eardrums
- >"WHO ARE YOU?"
- >You don't respond
- >What the fuck is happening
- >Suddenly, the same aura wraps around your body
- >Instead of being purple, it's a light blue
- >Then, a pain more intense than a thousand suns
- "AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH"
- >You would double over in pain, had you not been chained to a wall
- >The same voice asks again
- >"WHO ARE YOU?"
- "ughhhh"
- >You try to gather your thoughts after that insane torture
- >Who knows what's coming next
- "My name...."
- "My name is Anon Anonovich"
- >"WHY ARE YOU HERE?"
- >Gee, why the fuck ARE you in a dark fucking dungeon
- "Orders..."
- *cough*
- >"WHAT ARE YOU?"
- "I'm a human..."
- >Wait, hold the fuck up.
- >Seriously.
- >Something that can fucking speak Russian doesn't know what humans are?
- >Then, a white horse comes forward from the blinding light
- >Its mane is a cascade of blue, pink, and green
- >It is flowing through an unseen wind
- >It has a horn... and... wings?
- >You're in a fucking fairy tale
- >Either that, or you've had too much vodka
- >"A...human?"
- >The white alicorn asks
- >It has a golden crown on its head
- >You desperately want to say "OH SHIT YOU'RE THE QUEEN OF NAMBY-PAMBY LAND" or something to that effect
- >You remember that brutal pain you experienced earlier
- >You refrain
- "Yeah... a human"
- >The horse gives you a quizzical look
- >"Hmmm... I've heard of these 'Human' abilities..."
- >wat
- >"Maybe I'll set you free if you work for me."
- >what the fuck
- >For the shortest instant possibly fathomable, you think you've just become a sex slave for a horse
- >"I know of your flying abilities, and I think they can be put to good use"
- >"Since I am nice, I'll make you a little deal"
- >"If you join the Royal Pony Air Force, I will let you live in Ponyville for the remainder of your career"
- >So they're ponies, not horses
- >A realization hits you like a ton of bricks
- >The aura, the odd camoflage, and she saw you fly
- >THEY FUCKING KILLED YOUR WINGMAN
- "ARGHGHHHHHH!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"
- >you thrash at your restraints, but to no avail
- >Suddenly pain, pain everywhere
- >It's like your entire body is being ground into human-burger
- "AAAGHGHGH!!!!"
- >"Ah, ah, ah!~ You'll do no such thing"
- "Urghhh."
- >"So what's your choice?"
- >Just about anything is better than this right now
- "I'll fly for you."
- >"Glad to hear it!"
- >Its horn glows, and you are wrapped into a blue aura
- >You drift into a deep, calming slumber
- >Be flying in your MiG-29
- >You're over flat, featureless terrain
- >The missile launch tone blares into your headset
- >You try to turn to evade
- >You attempt a left roll
- >Nothing happens
- >ohshitnigger.jpg
- >The missile is getting closer
- >Your aircraft does not respond to your inputs
- >shitshitshitshit
- >You panic, and try to eject
- >You yank the ejection handle
- >It won't budge
- >God fucking dammit
- >You can see the white trail of the missile heading for you
- >Well, living was fun
- >In a most cliche manner, your life flashes before your eyes
- >The missile hits your aircraft
- >Instead of a rocking explosion, there is now spaghetti seeping into your cockpit
- >What the actual fuck?
- >It's filling up really fast
- >Your wingman's voice starts talking to you
- >"Anon, why didn't you save me? Save...me..."
- >Then, Celestia's voice
- >She is laughing heartily at you
- >You drown in the spaghetti
- >You wake up in a cold sweat
- >Are you still alive?
- >Better check
- >You look around
- >It's dark, and you can't really make out any of the features of the room
- >You grab your head and feel your own warmth
- >Lol you dumbass
- >It was just a dream, a big fuckin' dream
- >You sigh
- >Time to get back to sleep, never know when you'll be needed on duty
- >It's morning now
- >The sunlight shines through a window onto your face
- >What action dost thou plan to take, homosexual?
- >You stir
- >God damn that was some good rest
- >Now to get the day started
- >The fact that the morning announcements haven't taken place never crosses your mind
- >You awkwardly stumble out of bed
- >You're not wearing anything except your Standard-Issue boxers
- >No socks
- >Or... shirt?
- >You try to say "What the hell?", but you can only manage a groan
- >Whatever, maybe the rest of your clothes are through this windowless door
- >It's kinda tiny, though
- >It's a closet door, you dumbshit
- >Oh yeah, that's where your clothes are
- >You attempt to open it
- >The door is locked
- >Huh
- >"Ah, anon, you're awake."
- >It's that Horse-Queen-Person's voice
- >FUCK! YOU'RE STILL IN NAMBY-PAMBY LAND
- >FUCK, NOW YOUR DAY IS RUINED, AND YOUR JIMMIES?
- >RUSTLED. WHAT A SURPRISE.
- >You whirl around
- >She's there, looking at you with a sort of cocky grin
- >"I was wondering when you would wake."
- >That's not creepy at all
- >She watched you while you slept
- "Where am I?"
- >"Please forgive me, anon, my name is Princess Celestia"
- >"You're in Ponyville Air Force Base"
- >Is dis nigga serious?
- >You remember the little "chat" you had with her before
- >Yeah, you think it be like dis
- >And it do
- >Ponyville?
- >Fuck.
- >You cut the shit and get down to business
- "When do I fly?"
- >She chuckles
- >"Now, anon, don't get ahead of yourself."
- >"I am currently having Equestria's finest engineers produce a custom aircraft fit for your...specifications."
- "What do you mean?"
- >"Our aircraft are too small to accommodate your size, so we must produce a larger one."
- >"It should be finished within a month."
- >You're surprised
- >A month to design, build, and test a fully-functional combat aircraft for a species other then their own?
- >As if she was reading your mind, she answers
- >"Yes, that is correct. Magic helps the process greatly."
- >Oh yeah. Magic. That explains it.
- >"Until it is complete, why don't you have a look around your new hometown, hmmm?"
- >Sounds nice
- >You could use some bacon and pancakes
- "Alright, fine."
- >"Good. But I must explain some things to you, first, so listen up."
- >"You will have a handler by the name of Rainbow Dash, a pegasus pony."
- >Fucking great, now you're someone's pet.
- >"I have cast a spell on you. Remember your experience from the dungeon?"
- >You are hesitant to recall it, but you do
- >You put a hand on your gut
- >Even thinking about it makes you hurt
- >"Imagine that, but worse."
- >You really don't want to imagine it.
- >"There is a chariot outside waiting to take you into town. Rainbow Dash will accompany you."
- >You inhale, and sigh.
- >"Anyway, I must be going. Your clothes are in the drawer of the end-table."
- "But wher-"
- >She vanishes in a cloud of sparkles
- "-e do I... use the bathroom..."
- >Well, shit.
- >You sigh
- >Today's gonna be a long day
- >You walk over to the end-table and open the drawer
- >Your clothes consist of a white Tee with pink, horizontal stripes
- >With Blue Khaki pants
- >Whoever made this is a faggot -
- >Wait you're in ponyville
- >Gotta remember that
- >You slip on the clothes
- >They fit perfectly, and are comfortable as hell
- >Dayum
- >You walk over to the door, your new outfit hugging you snuggly
- >You open the door
- >No, you don't get on the floor
- >But you walk outside to see some freaky shit
- >The grass is green
- >Not like a plant green
- >But like
- >Cake frosting green, or some shit
- >Bright and unnatural colors are everywhere
- >What the hell?
- >There are flying ponies
- >They must be the pegasus ponies
- >You look at the house you were staying in
- >It's made out of wood
- >Who makes barracks out of wood?
- >They would totally catch fire if -
- >You know what, you don't even care anymore
- >Just go with it
- >"Hey anon, over here!"
- >It's a gravelly, tomboyish voice
- >You turn around
- >Why do these ponies just love to sneak up on you?
- >HOLY FUCK I LOVE RHETORICAL QUESTIONS
- >okay, back on track
- >A cyan pony with a rainbow tail and mane is waiting for you
- >In a golden chariot
- >"I'm here to take you into town. Hop in!"
- "Alright. Sounds good."
- >You jump into the chariot, which is pulled by two pegasi with gold armor
- >The pegasi take to the air and the chariot follows
- "OH GOD!"
- >You've flown in open-cockpit Polikarpovs before, but this is just something else
- >You grasp the edge of the chariot
- >You're gonna fall out if you don't hold on
- >The blue pony starts giggling and then laughing
- >"Hehehehehe, you're not gonna fall out!"
- >With some hesitation, you release your death grip
- >You look over the edge of the chariot
- >OH GOD
- "OH GOD"
- >Even though you're one of the best fighter pilots in your squadron, you're afraid of heights
- >Vertigo gets to you
- >You try to avert your attention to the clouds in front of you, and think of a happy place
- >Your grandfather's Yak-12
- >You immediately feel at ease
- >You remember him taking you up for a ride each time you visited him
- >That's how you found your love of flight
- >"So, my name is Rainbow Dash."
- >Snap back into reality
- "So I've heard."
- >You don't wanna sound like an asshole
- >Especially to your "commanding officer"
- >But you're sounding like one
- >"And you must be Anon Anonovich."
- "That's me."
- >You're hungry as fuck
- >Your stomach growls
- >"Looks like you might need some food in ya. I know a good place to eat."
- >Nothing could be better than food, and a good piss
- >Your chariot arrives to its destination
- >From what you can gather, Ponyville AFB is outside of Ponyville itself
- >"This way, come on."
- "Alright."
- >She trots into what seems to be a cafe
- >Ponies go about their business
- >Some look up and stare at you
- >You feel like a freak
- >You walk inside the cafe with Rainbow
- >"One hay sandwich with extra lettuce, please"
- >You open your mouth to ask for a menu
- >"And he'll have an apple."
- >Dammit
- >Pancakes and bacon will have to wait
- >She sits down at an indoor table
- >And you join her
- >"Alright, let's get down to business."
- >"I'm going to be your handler for your entire career as a pilot for the Royal Pony Air Force."
- >"Just do what I say, and everypony's happy."
- >She said everypony
- >This is like some sort of dream
- >Your food arrives
- >"Your meal."
- >The waiter says
- >He sets the sandwich in front of Rainbow, and gives you your apple
- >How can p0nies carry things without hands - you don't care.
- >Let's get this shit over with
- >You take a bite of the apple
- >It's damn good
- "MMM!"
- >Is all you can manage
- >"I see you like that apple. Straight from Sweet Apple Acres."
- >Some juice drips onto your shirt, but you don't care
- >"Hey, be careful with that uniform! They're hard to make!"
- >Make...
- >How were they supposed to know how to make clothes for humans?
- >They'd need your dimensions... OH SHIT
- >you choke on the apple
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