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Author Topic: SN-81264WT  (Read 2712 times)
RusVal
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« on: July 05, 2012, 05:03:49 PM »

Log entry #- [CLASSIFIED]

My mind is cracking, or at least the shrinks have come to that conclusion.  "Recall Schizophrenia brought on by Anomalous Activities", I believe was the term was, although since in the terms of laymen I am having problems remembering things properly, I might be remembering that wrong.

But yeah, I am having problems remembering things properly, probably because of all the weird stuff I deal with on a daily basis.  Who knew that [CLASSIFIED] and [CLASSIFIED], or even [CLASSIFIED] would cause your brain to go all sideways?  Not that the padded rooms they got holding some babbling Brooks wearing the latest in nutso I-Love-Me fashion wasn't proof enough that what we do can be rather hazardous to the cranium.  But the Docs think that I can be saved, so here I am, trying my darndest to jot down what I can remember to work around my memory problems.

(And by "jotting down" I mean typing on this laptop.  Why do I feel old all of a sudden?)

So to start with, who am I?  That... is one of the problems.  See, the name on my tags say "Trevor, Miles", and the fancy bars on my uniform say I'm a Captain.  Furthermore, the patches say I'm part of CETT, and the other patches say that I have seen a great deal of action in service to CETT.
When I take a moment to think this over, this seems right enough.  I remember my name being Miles, and that I was slightly annoyed by the name growing up for some reason.
The thing is, as I'm thinking this over, this information seems... wrong somehow.  Like if someone walked into the room and shouted "Hey Miles!", I wouldn't reflexively look over like one does.
It doesn't seem to help that I distinctly remember being called Mark on occasion, and sometimes Russell.  And not in the "ooh, I'm on an undercover mission" way, either.  I remember them like they are my actual names.  Heck, sometimes I remember being called all of them in a short span of time, sometimes at the precise "same" time.
It was what tipped my bosses off that something might be wrong with me, in fact.  Supposedly a bean counter noticed that I was signing different names to my paperwork, and decided that this behavior was "unusual".  So, here I am, taking a trip down memory lane, and trying to see if all the avenues are lined up properly.

There is one thing that was constant, though, which is reassuring I guess.  No matter what my "real" name might be, seems I landed myself the same handle.

"Stryker"

And if I'm going to right the great ship me anytime soon, it will probably behoove me to stick to calling myself that right now.

So, call me Stryker.  Welcome to the foxhole in my rabbit hole.

-Stryker
« Last Edit: July 05, 2012, 05:20:35 PM by RusVal » Logged

"Why don't you wear a helmet?  I feel anonymous and disposable..." -VGCats

"What is this, a bad spy movie?!  You two are going to get us all killed!" -Jack Carver, Far Cry
RusVal
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« Reply #1 on: July 05, 2012, 10:46:59 PM »

I remember that my family has a strong military tradition dating back to the American Revolution.  "Each generation has had at least one man in the Navy," it has been said about my family.  Since I turned out to be the one of mine to join the military, I of course chose Army.  'Cause to heck with tradition.

The thing is, I can't for the life of me remember what I did as a profession.  I remember either driving tanks, flying choppers, or jumping out of airplanes.  I do remember that I was busted to buck private after an incident involving a General's limo.  Or did it involve her daughter?
Maybe both.
Anyway, I guess I should be lucky not to have ended up watching for penguins in Alaska, though humpin' ruck in some middle eastern country ending in "-stan" working as a "security detachment" to a supply depot in the Green Zone comes a close second in the boring department.

Oh sure, as deployments go, it was probably what every soldier's family could hope for for their son.  Nothing really happened aside from the occasional hummer malfunction.  The other soldiers were alright, no real major jerks.  Relationships with the locals was okay, which is all you could hope for, really.

For some reason, though, I remember that the support depot was mostly staffed with buxom women.  That doesn't seem right for some reason.
I'm guessing that I'm remembering a fantasy that my lonely male mind was having at the time, and my current situation is making me think that was reality.
Would have been nice if it was true.
« Last Edit: July 06, 2012, 01:51:42 PM by RusVal » Logged

"Why don't you wear a helmet?  I feel anonymous and disposable..." -VGCats

"What is this, a bad spy movie?!  You two are going to get us all killed!" -Jack Carver, Far Cry
RusVal
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« Reply #2 on: July 08, 2012, 01:46:33 PM »

That's actually a problem I've been having: very vivid dreams.  Can be quite confusing to go on a mission, lose a squadmate, come back to base, hit the ruck, then wake up to find the person you thought lost is still alive because the entire previous day was a dream you had.

It's also a reason that I can't watch movies where humans fight monsters anymore, because, like clockwork, I will have a dream that we would have to fight an alien threat similar to what I had watched that day.

For the record, I've "fought" Xenomorphs, Predators, Navi, the entire ecosystem of Pandora, most varieties of zombies, Godzilla (with and without alotta fish), giant scorpions, the Titans, Tribbles, Trolls, Transformers, Terminators (kept running into a guy named "Pepper" for some reason), Guys in Robot Boxes, Guys with Rubber Foreheads, those things from Battle:LA, Sandworms, Ewoks, and a bunch of others that I can't be bothered to remember right now.

Someone suggested it might be that having to face unknown elements on a constant day-to-day basis has caused me to develop a sort of sub-conscious planning routine, sort of taking the "every contingency" thing to the next level.
Not so sure of that, though.
Since if that was the case, then I must be very afraid of not being able to please nubile space maidens as well.  Not that I particularly mind those dreams.
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"Why don't you wear a helmet?  I feel anonymous and disposable..." -VGCats

"What is this, a bad spy movie?!  You two are going to get us all killed!" -Jack Carver, Far Cry
RusVal
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There are no ends. Only new beginnings.


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« Reply #3 on: August 07, 2012, 02:28:18 PM »

Sorry, zoned out for a minute there.  Really need to stop doing letting my mind wander to those areas, my girl's upset enough that my mind might be shattering.

Hey, there's a consistent memory!  CLASSIFIED "Sapphire" CLASSIFIED, the woman who holds my heart.  Or would be holding if I ever broke hers.
Irish, 5'10", redhead, eyes you could lose yourself in, legs that could crack coconuts, and the ability to make a catsuit go "purr".
Also part of CETT's Intel division, so she knows where I've been.  Probably wouldn't even be able to do that sunglasses trick at the beach, she'd hear my eyes wandering.  Oh, I tease her, but she has a good sense of humor about it.  She also can bend me into a pretzel, so she can probably afford to have one.

I can still remember the first day I met her... but not precisely where that was.

Crap.

Ok, don't panic.  They are still very clear, just a bit jumbled.  One step at a time.

It was on the first day I was accepted into CETT.  We were on the same Blackhawk, as a matter of fact.  Not that I could get a good look at her, since she was wearing a baggy jumpsuit at the time.  Of course, my mind was on other things, like the super-secret base we were being transported to.  The thing is, I'm being a little fuzzy about where that was.  Or rather, I know where, I'm just not sure which one's the actual one...

All right, let's try to work this out.  I remember that the base I was transported to was one of the three "main" bases that CETT keeps around the world.  I also know that the only time I ever rode a Blackhawk to one was on my first day at CETT.  But I also remember that I rode the Blackhawk to all three on the same day, despite only going to one that day.
I'm also realizing that my memories of that first day are inconsistent to other times I have been at those bases.

I'm going to need a few minutes to sort this out.
« Last Edit: August 07, 2012, 02:29:53 PM by RusVal » Logged

"Why don't you wear a helmet?  I feel anonymous and disposable..." -VGCats

"What is this, a bad spy movie?!  You two are going to get us all killed!" -Jack Carver, Far Cry
RusVal
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« Reply #4 on: August 07, 2012, 03:37:01 PM »

//.1#=- worse than we thought.

How's that?  He's been able to find a stable memory.

That's the thing, it isn't a stable memory.

Well, sure, it doesn't make as much sense, but I'm noticing some links between these...

She doesn't exist.

Pardon?

We have scoured the entire record.  There is no "Sapphire" from Ireland.  There was never any "Sapphire" from Ireland.

Then why has her name been classified?

We didn't do that.  He just typed "Classified" in green font instead of her name.

...
What of the rest?

We will have to observe what he says0->//
« Last Edit: August 08, 2012, 03:17:40 PM by RusVal » Logged

"Why don't you wear a helmet?  I feel anonymous and disposable..." -VGCats

"What is this, a bad spy movie?!  You two are going to get us all killed!" -Jack Carver, Far Cry
RusVal
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Posts: 1421


There are no ends. Only new beginnings.


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« Reply #5 on: November 07, 2012, 05:54:31 PM »

Ok, ok, okokokok.  I've been taking some time to think about it, and I've realized that there were three distinct "styles" during my first visit to CETT, which had overlapped into subsequent visits to other bases.  For instance, a visit to the Asian base that I know was sometime after I had joined CETT matches the first time I joined at the American base, and so on and so forth.

All right, now we are getting somewhere.  I'm going to ask for some security footage of one of the bases, and if the "style" matches that of one of my memories, than we can make some headway into what the heck is wrong with me.

For now, I'm going to jot down what I remember from my "three firsts", as best as I can recollect.

American base- One of the first things that hit me when I first entered what the troops had lovingly called "Nowhere" was just how normal everything looked at first glance.  It was a regular army-looking base in the middle of a desert, with a rather standard camouflaged missile silo in the middle.
Then we actually went down into the base... and it looked like any other underground base that I had seen pictures of, with the cement and the metal and the brightly colored lines showing how to get everywhere.
Even when we got to the equipment we were going to use looked like much of what we had already, except maybe a little tech-ier looking.  Computers looked like computers, the guns looked like guns, and the aircraft were regular jets and rotor wings.
Then we got the specs for them.
One distinct memory I had was looking at how much memory the computers had: 80 terabytes.  Not gigs, not megs, terabytes.  And they were planning on replacing them with the next model, which had double the amount!
Down at the firing range, we got to do a side-by-side with the standard equipment and the CETT stuff.  It was like playing a video game, just point and shoot it was so easy to aim the things.  And after looking at the bullet jello after taking a round from a pistol, there wasn't any doubt that these could mess someone up real bad.

European base- If there was one word that fit this place, it would be "anachronistic".  Which is immediately noticeable by the fact that it's underneath an old castle with a police box out front.
While obviously fighting space aliens using FTL with early 21st century tech would lead to some discrepancies with the "time periods" in equipment that an organization like CETT would use, having a tubes-and-telsa-coil computer AI that runs on Windows DOS (that sounds like a butler) is stretching things a tad.
I'm sort of tempted to call these memories the "Punk Punk" memories, because I've been troping too much lately.

Asian base- So get this, when I first arrived here on my "first day", we landed on the roof of a standard high rise building.  As we were being marched to the elevator, I was feeling a little awkward in my military fatigues in such a civilian looking local.  Then we got into the elevator, and then went down, and down, and down, until we were escorted to this very fancy looking train.  Which so happened to travel miles underwater.
Now, at the time I had only a passing knowledge of eastern animation, but boy did I start getting vibes from this place.  Everything was colorful, the gear we had was exaggerated (very shoulderpady armor, plasma guns with a very interesting "pew pew" noise, and some of the cutest little death machines you ever did see), and there was a remarkable dissonance in dress code between the men and the ladies.  I am still not sure how they could get skirts that short to not show anything.
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"Why don't you wear a helmet?  I feel anonymous and disposable..." -VGCats

"What is this, a bad spy movie?!  You two are going to get us all killed!" -Jack Carver, Far Cry
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