Is a narrative journal cum epistolary novel composed with the guidance of @susanahgrace's wonderful Wretched & Alone game CHVLR. In this tale of despair, horror, transformation, and dashed friendship, MAJKO KRUZETO and her allies in the shadowy government organization known as PROVIDENCE must ride the biomechanical chariots known as the ASURAS to fight and kill extradimensional invaders known as DEVAS, slowly but surely witnessing the extermination of humanity and the wilting of their health, psyches, and bonds.
The first "season" of CLSAE:R, comprising the first 25 entries of the journal, was completed yesterday, and new updates come every few days. It is a good time to start reading (in the following google doc)! Maybe you will find it fun, in a morbid kind of way :)
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12.12.4225
05:55
Designation: 32098
Unit: UNIT05 A World Without Fear
Today marks my first week in the CHVLR program, and is the day of my first deployment to the field. My SCS was installed three days ago, and I’ve run a few training simulations, but it’s the first time I’ve even been in the cockpit.
The Colonel says there is no other choice. The enemy is here and I have to stop them.
Here is the CHVLR Log of Kay Olsen, pilot of Scorpion 33.
This was my first time doing one of these and I had a great time. Not sure Kay did though...
DATE + TIME: 18.01.2XXX - 18:51
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
Today marks my first week in the CHVLR program, and is the day of my first deployment to the field. My SCS was installed three days ago, and I’ve run a few training simulations, but it’s the first time I’ve even been in the cockpit.
The Colonel says there is no other choice. The enemy is here and I have to stop them.
SCORPION 33 initializing. Systems green. █████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: 25.01.2XXX - 21:24
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
Hell of a week. Makes you wonder if this was a good idea. Not that it matters now. No backing out.
The Colonel's trap, the one he'd been planning for months, complete failure. Seems like the enemy knew all about it. Course everyone starts getting paranoid, thinks there's a traitor or a spy among us. Probably true. As the newest pilot I have seen the way some of the personnel on the base look at me. I think they suspect me. Only thing I can do is keep with the mission.
Took part in multiple skirmishes over the next few days. Colonel is impressed with me, I managed to take out 5 patrols on one shift. I don't understand it myself, but I seem to know the enemies next moves. I don't just mean they are predictable, I mean that I KNOW their next move, instinctually. I noticed it on my 3rd outing. A sort of spark in my SCS, next thing I knew I had gunned down the patrol that was sneaking up on the camp. No one had spotted them. I keep wondering if I should report this. Not sure that would be a good idea, what with the possibility of spies about.
The last mission I was assigned, provide back up to a FOB, was on track to be pretty simple. The FOB radioed in with reports of enemy combatants approaching, the Colonel saw fit to send me as reinforcement. Upon arrival, a technician, I think he was, ran out the gates towards my CHVLR. I think he was screaming. The next few hours I don't really remember. It comes and goes. I remember I was outnumbered, that's for sure. And the damage the CHVLR sustained attested to that. In my dreams I have seen flashes, glimpses of me, gun tossed aside ripping and tearing at the enemy with my bear hands. Seems at some point I had to repair Scorpion myself, much to the dismay of the mechanics back at base, hopefully I didn't muck it up too bad. Need to get back out there soon - me and Scorpion - feels wrong us being apart this long. Hope the next mission comes through soon.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: 29.01.2XXX - 15:59
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
Last few days have been tough. Supply lines have been hit over and over. Work of the damn traitor is what I think. This lack of supplies has the whole damn base on edge, as if it weren't already. Scorpion's repairs had been progressing, but with the lack of supplies, it was been slow going. Then the Colonel had the bright idea of sending me to patrol the supply routes. I was glad to be back in Scorpion, but the hours I spent alone, staring into the night… it was rough.
On my last patrol, the 4th loop I think, was when the jammer went off. Guess the enemy is more prepared than we thought. Now, the techies say that an SCS jammer is one of the most painful things a pilot can experience. I can believe that, could barely think the pain was so much. Not sure how long I was out for, it was dark when I woke up though so at least a couple hours. When I rebooted systems, I noticed I was picking up an unknown frequency. People calling out, I couldn't understand them. They sounded scared. I tried speaking back, offering to help but the signal cut off and command ordered me back to base. I reported this upon my return but the Colonel shut me down, told me not to ask questions. Fuckin' asshole.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: 01.02.2XXX - 23:36
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
Finally got away from that base. Seems some higher ups got wind of my performance and "invited" me to some stuffy gala. I'll admit it was quite exciting, seeing how the upper echelons live. The excitement did wear off quickly. Kinda felt like I was an exhibit, just there to be shown off. Looking back it makes me kinda mad, all those people have clearly never known what it is like to struggle. The fancy clothes and food, giant halls filled with expensive sculptures and art. Everyone where I come from was forced to ration food for 10 months of the year or we would be removed from the block. These are the people who send people like me to their deaths every day. They don't care about us. Only themselves. I can only rely on myself and Scorpion. I'll see her again soon.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: 09.02.2XXX - 20:32
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
The Colonel is furious. I know I should have knocked but… What's done is done, hopefully my punishment isn't too harsh. Although with how the Colonel has been lately I have concerns.
Something happened to Scorpion whilst I was on patrol today. I had tracked a small group of combatants to their camp and was just about to wipe the poor sods of the planet when this feeling surged through me. I'm not sure how to describe it, like a mix of nausea and euphoria, followed quickly by terror. No alarms were sounding in my cockpit. Systems report stated all clear. Back at base the techies can't find any sign of what caused it. Not sure they even believe me. I can't be sure myself, maybe I'm just going mad. This event caused such a visceral reaction in me that I forced an ejection from the CHVLR. I was sweating and panicking, I may have thrown up I can't recall, when some enemy soldier spots me. Now they looked just about as bad as I must've done. There was no reasoning with them. God knows I tried. They lunged at me with a knife, got my arm good. It was a blur, but next thing I remember is me on top of them, ripping at their face with my bare hands. They were dead, no doubt. I may have thrown up again. Made it back to base, covered in that poor souls blood. The others on the base, some seem impressed, most seem scared of me. I need to sleep.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: 20.02.2XXX - 14:01
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
Was sent to a small town today. HQ received some intel that enemy operatives had a hideout there. We knew the location so I was sent to deal with them. Scorpion took some hits. Seems they knew we were coming, detonated the hideout just as I entered. Didn't have time to fully raise shields and a huge metal rod pierced the cockpit. Only missed me by a couple inches. Still hurt like hell though, damn SCS. It wrecked the environmental controls, had to rely on my suits oxygen supply, aka not good. Don't remember much else. Almost felt like I wasn't in control. Scorpion just went crazy, the explosion must have hit some important component or something. Somehow we made it back. She scares me, Scorpion does. Those civies didn't have to die. I tried to stop her. I'm sorry.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: 31.03.2XXX - 22:04
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
I swear to god, this fuckin' Colonel. I just return from the longest battle this planet has seen for the past 2 years and he wanted to send me out again? I couldn't do it. After all that I have seen. So many lives lost. And for what? We gained little considering what we gave up. I was finally assigned to a squad, all of them are dead now. Zoey, Sara, Aya. I barely knew them. I avenged them all of course, but that won't bring them back. Least we got one photo, I'll keep it close.
As punishment for my refusal I have been reassigned. 'm not sure where I'm being sent, but I'll be glad to get away from the damn Colonel.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: XX.XX.2XXX - 03:17
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
I don't know how long it's been. A few months I would guess. My reassignment was to a squad on one of the outer colonies. A huge city, once full of people. Nothing but a hole in the ground now. If we were fighting to protect it I guess we failed. I don't leave Scorpion much anymore. I find it uncomfortable to be outside. Can barely walk now anyways. It's safe in here. When we arrived, it was nice, peaceful even. Spent the evening on the beach. Watched the sun set on the horizon. I cried, silently. Cannot show weakness.
Scorpion is alive, at least I think she is. I lost control a few times. My head pounds every time it happens and all I remember I a primal fury, a rage, and this unending scream. I should be scared, but she could never hurt me. She and I are one.
█████, signing off.
----
DATE + TIME: XX.XX.2XXX - 22:13
DESGINATION: KO3655
UNIT: SCORPION 33
This is it. I think this is the only way it could have ended. Scorpion is down, she is crying out in so much pain. Systems are shutting down. I'm glad to be here with her, we have been together so long, I've spent so long inside this cockpit, I can think of nowhere I'd rather spend these last moments. I can hear her now. She speaks to me at last. Thank you.
[TRANSMISSION INTERUPPTED]
----
[LOG ENDS]
Pilot overwhelmed by enemy combat forces. Logs indicate altered mental state and obsession with CHVLR unit may have lead to decreased combat efficiency.
Battle lost not long after pilot expiration. CHVLR unit and SCS chip presumed captured by enemy forces.
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Since my second mission, since I got knocked out so quickly, I wanted to feel more in tune with Fritzy, to feel dialed in and in sync with him, so I started coming here to read intel reports.
The next night I slept in the cockpit. It felt easier that heading back to the dorms, felt quieter. More comfortable. Even when he's powered down, Fritzy keeps me safe from the judgment. The questioning glances from other pilots, the bizarre jealousy from the crew. None of them can bother me when I'm inside. None of them can see me.
I'm safer with him.
Third deployment was a mission success. I'd been deployed in the field alongside LO-22 Belle and her pilot, Hal. Mission was a secure package recovery; a standard Intermodal container in the ruins of Nerota. Belle and I were dropped midway into Nerota, and were half a click from the payload before the SCS chirped that their subnets were lighting up with traffic. We powerslid into the courtyard, the rapid thunk-thunk of my KL7 firing off rounds offset by the bright fireworks of Belle's VTM system igniting salvo after salvo of rockets into the orange sunrise. The Klondies they'd had stationed in the target zone were swiftly charred out, and I stomped through the zone for a good overwatch point while Belle set to work scanning the ISOs.
"Fuck," came his voice, gruff and hesitant. "Lead shielding on three. Gonna have to pop shell and check the interior manually."
"You sure that's a good idea, Sixer?" My SCS had been scanning the arena since we'd stepped in, but when I shifted to overwatch it began cataloguing it far more granularly. The courtyard was clearly a refugee camp, and Fritzy had lit up eight targeting reticles already with 'potential small arms' tags.
Nine reticles. "No other choice," came his callback. "Even if I try to exfil with two, you need both arms free on Fritzy for your rifle." I could hear him suck air through his teeth, a silent prayer of return. "LO-22, Hal, exiting cockpit."
I nervously thumbed the toggle on the KL7, and felt the chamber empty and refill with HE slugshot. No point piercing armor without any Klondies around, but if they had weapons interspersed through the courtyard, best to shoot wide instead of deep.
I had the HUD pop a picture-in-picture tracking Hal's exo as I scanned. Twelve orange reticles now. Belle was kneeling low, her cockpit just ten feet from the cobblestones. With the cockpit lid still attached and powered, the mounting ladder telescoped smoothly down to the ground, and Hal stepped free. I saw him pull a sidearm from the thigh holster of his SCS suit, think about it, then tuck it back in.
One of the reticles flashed green, then faded. Eleven pockets of danger. Hal reached the first container, bent low to lift the jam, and pulled the door wide.
"Negative," he said, and I winced. "Moving to the second ISO."
"What's in the target container," I asked softly over the secure channel. "My mission brief made no mention."
"Mine either," he said, crossing a clearing at a light jog. "My SCS suit panel just lit red when we breached the shielding."
Hal slowed back to a walk once he was alongside the second container, and bent down again to unbolt the door. Just then, two of my reticles began flashing bright red, and I reflexively aligned the rifle with the closest target. "Contact," I said firmly, and squeezed the trigger.
I could hear the screams of the civilians through Hal's voice link, and I watched him crumple to the dirt. The first reticle flashed green, and I was lining up on the second. Don't be hit, I thought to myself as my sensors zoomed on the crowd. Twenty people, civilian garb, mostly huddled over. One target, aligning a RPG towards the edge of the container. Towards Hal.
The KL7 had loaded another shotgun slug. There was no way to take out the RPG without hitting the rest of the crowd. And there wasn't enough time to swap back to the large caliber slugs. I shot.
I tried not to watch, but Fritzy's scanners were feeding straight into my SCS. Straight into me. You can't look away with over a hundred eyes. The crowd was huddled. Then the crowd was a cloud of dirt, red mist, and screams. Thermal images showed the hostile slump over, and the RPG slip from his hands. The reticle flashed green, then faded.
"Clear," I heard my voice say from somewhere else. Hal jumped back to his feet, and nearly tore the container's door off its hinge. "Bingo," he said, and the HUD pulsed as a gold halo appeared around the container. "Target confirmed, returning to Belle."
He nearly jumped the ten feet up the ladder and into the cockpit, and the moment the doors closed I flicked the toggle back to slugs. "Incoming Klondies," I said as my HUD picked up the reactor pings approaching. Belle scooped the container like it was a cardboard coffee cup, and I saw the tops of her shoulder-mounted missile pods pop open and prime.
"I see them," he said, and his atmo-jets engaged. "Three suits. FOF reads callsigns Rabbit, Tread, and Jackknife."
Jackknife. "Get to the Exfil," I said, looking for a good spot to ambush from. "I'll be right behind you."
"The fuck you will," Hal growled. "I saw the reports from your last action. Leave him for the vultures. We can exfil before they engage."
I winced, but I knew it was the right call. There was no good vantage, and even if I found wreckage to hide in, they were expecting me already. "Confirm, Fritzy heading to exfil. Atmo-jets engaged, watching your six."
We blazed a trail as fast as we could through the bombed out streets of Nerota, and eventually the three pursuing Klondies pinged off their pursuit. Six clicks of empty husks of what was once a bustling mid-province city flew by in a blur as Belle and Fritzy slid across pockmarked tarmac and concrete.
How many hundreds of thousands had lived here before the war? How many were left?
How many lay still in the ruins around us still, unmoving, unbreathing. Forgotten casualties of a senseless war.
I'll sleep in the cockpit again tonight. As long as I'm in Fritzy, I don't have to think about the answers.
