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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: New Macross Class.jpg (190 KB, 1280x720)
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In the year 2009, humanity fought what was later named Space War I. While humanity had emerged victorious the war had devastated their home world, Earth, and its population. Seeking to ensure their survival, mankind took to the stars. Dozens of massive fleets, holding millions of souls, were sent out. Most succeed in their journeys, some with great difficulty, seeding worlds with human life and as humanity continued to spread among the stars.

The year is 2054. It had been fourteen years since the 24th Macross Class Emigration Fleet, the Macross Avalon, had departed from Earth. For the most part it was smooth sailing.

“Pecker.”

You were staring at the sea stars laid out before you.

“Pecker, snap out of it!”

It had to be your second. You couldn’t think of anyone who’d obnoxiously interrupt your pointless recollection of the past like this.

“Goddamnit Pecker, don’t you fucking dare.”

Oh wait, that was a woman’s voice. You couldn’t recall who exactly in this context was calling you. It couldn’t have been your roommate, seeing as the apartment you shared didn’t have a great view of space. The only option was the military. You were the equivalent of a N. U. N. Spacy First Lieutenant though. Calling you by your nickname would have been a gross breech in protocol if it wasn’t serious.

So it probably was serious. Focusing, you realise that you were sitting in,

>A Variable Fighter cockpit
>A Zentraedi battle suit
>the bridge of a star ship
>>
Voting is 15 minutes after first reply
Write-ins are encouraged and will be integrated as smoothly as possible
To speed things along tie-breakers will usually be 1d2, re-votes will be rare
If rolls are needed they will be best of 3d100 with flat, but obscured, DC. Relative difficulty will be given most of the time.
>>
>>34011598
>>A Variable Fighter cockpit
>>
>>34011598
>>A Variable Fighter cockpit
>>
>>34011598
>A Zentraedi battle suit
>>
>>34011598
>>A Variable Fighter cockpit
Space fighter time
>>
>>34011634
>>34011684
>>34011745
Aw come on guys being a Zentraedi will be way more fun than being a plain old fighter jock.
>>
>>34011598
>A Zentraedi battle suit
>>
>>34011598
>A Zentraedi battle suit
I know nothing about muhcrawss, I just place my faith in bored-sama from ACACQ
>>
>>34011781
>A Variable Fighter cockpi

We can still be a Zentraedi I geuss, but Macross without a Variable Fighter would just be wrong.
>>
>>34011598

Macross quest? Fuck yeah, time to get them to LISTEN TO MY SONG!

Gonna go against the crowd here and say. . .

>on the bridge of a starship

The prototype Macross third class vessel "trinity". . . Owned and operated by S.M.S, a private military contractor who have been testing the trinity (named for being only 1/3rd the size of a normal Macross class vessel).

We bridge bunny now.
>>
>>34011611
thank god you abandoned 3d20. the results were autismal.
also
>A Zentraedi battle suit
I wanna punch somethings
>>
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>>34011861
>implying VF don't punch things.
>>
Rolled 1

Currently a tie between
1. Variable Fighter
and
2. Zentraedi battle suit
I guess we'll have to roll it off. Don't worry, cross-training is possible if your option was not chosen.
>>
>>34012017
As long as we get to space-punch people in the space-face with our space-hands, I don't care.
>>
>>34011598
oh god, I just realized how rapidly we're approaching the point in time when Macross changes from near-future sci-fi to an alternative history.
I feel old
>>
File: vf-171.jpg (57 KB, 620x347)
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Hmm, wait a min 2054, damn we're before my favourite the VF-171 Nightmare....

Oh well, at least we're as far as possible from the VF-25
>>
>>34012174
wait nevermind, the 171 was 2046, I was thinking it was 2056
>>
>>34012174
The VF-171 was conceived in 2046. It was well in deployment by 2054.
>>
>>34012017
Oh I thought we were picking for race, playing as a Zentradi would have been cool
>>
File: VF-171 Fighter.gif (12 KB, 250x129)
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You were sitting in a Variable Fighter cockpit. According to your memory, it was a VF-171. You also recalled that you were a First Lieutenant for the N.U.N. Spacy and that you had been deployed to assist the Avalon’s reconnaissance elements against unknown hostiles. That explained the concussion. It also explained the harpy on the line.

“I’m a harpy Pecker?” the Chief Air Group Tactical Officer asked.

“Sorry, concussion,” you replied, “This is Yellow-4 still flying.”

You may have said that but really the airframe seemed to be holding together with a thread. Avionics were still working as was most of the critical equipment. Missiles were out but the gunpod probably had another second or two of burst in it. Cockpit window was trashed but thankfully you had a space suit for such emergencies. The data links were out too so you only had a radio and not much else. At least the sensors were still working.

“Gunsight, sitrep please,” you continued.

“We’ve sustained too many casualties. Force Recon has started to pull back.”

“Roger, hold please.”

Your sensors had picked up a contact. It had matched the profile of the hostile that Force Recon had provided and so was flagged as red. Against the backdrop of space you could barely make it out if not for the tell tale glow of a thrusters. It was closing in from missile range to gun range fast. If it had guns or missiles then it wasn’t using them. Surely it wasn’t going to try and ram you now was it?

>We’ll ram it back and save some ammo
>Change course and open fire
>Retreat and await further support
>>
>>34012500
>>Change course and open fire
Our ship has already taken a beating it seems, let's not get it absolutely wrecked
>>
>>34012500
>Change course and open fire

If we lose our ride we can't get home.
>>
>>34012500
>Change course and open fire
Dakka Dakka Dakka!
>>
>>34012500
>Change course and open fire
>>
>>34012500
Ram it back.
>>
>>34012500
>Change course and open fire
>>
File: Fire support incoming.jpg (67 KB, 1280x720)
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You think you remember how you damaged your fighter in this engagement, something to do with a collision. It was a good idea to avoid those, you thought. The great thing about Variable Fighters, aside from being some of the sexiest machines to ever be designed, is the fact that they could transform from looking like atmospheric fighters jets to humanoid robots. You didn’t transform yours in to the latter though. You switched to the intermediate form, in between the two, the GERWALK mode. It was a bit of a silly name but it swung your thrusters out from underneath the fighter and liberated the arms. Changing direction was easier now, as your manipulator arms grabbed your gun pod. The bandit wasn’t even close when you blasted it out of the way.

Well that was easy though it looked like you were finally out of ammo for your gunpod. Your Variable Fighter wasn’t completely unarmed per se but the beam cannons mounted on your fighter were more for defence against missiles or similarly large and slow projectiles.

“Yellow-4 this is Gunsight,” the Tactical Officer returned.

“Splashed another,” you replied, “I read.”

“Yellow-4 we need you to mark targets in AO,” she ordered.

More contacts appeared on your sensors. There were more than you wanted to deal with in this particular Valkyrie.

“Uh say again?” you asked, “I’m heavily damaged and out of ammo over.”

“I say again, we need you to mark targets for bombardment.”

“You’re aware that my datalink is out right?”

“We are. We’ll triangulate based on your coordinates.”

You didn’t want to snap back at her but this was a suicidal order if you stayed. Well there was a small chance that whatever they were using for bombardment was to cover your ass. They probably wouldn’t argue if you moved out of the line of fire for a bit.

>Mark all the targets
>Give ‘adjusted’ coordinates
>Fuck this, retreat
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>34013517
>Mark all the targets

Part of me wants to give 'adjusted' coordinates, but I think we should just give them our current location and then get the fuck out of there before what I assume is Monster fire support, and no-one wants to be near that.
>>
>>34013517
>>Mark all the targets
Command is so cold
>>
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>>34013517
The solution is clear
>Mark all the targets
>>
Then please roll 1d100, no counter roll.
>>
Rolled 3

>>34014144
I'm bound to stop rolling 1s eventually.
>>
Rolled 35

>>34014144
ROLAEN
>>
Rolled 44

>>34014144
>>
Rolled 61

>>34014144
>>
>>34014159
>I'm bound to stop rolling 1s eventually.
Some day you might even roll high
>>
>>34014144
>High roll 44
Welp! this was a short quest.
RIP in Pieces 'Pecker', we hardly knew yee.
>>
>>34014481
I'm sure we'll be fine, we're just getting shot at by our own armed forces..... with weapons that can annihilate us.... in a severely damaged craft......
>>
Orders were order, no matter how suicidal. You didn’t want to be another friendly fire statistic though so you had planned to bug out as soon as you called out all the targets. There was only so much you could do though. It seemed the bandits were making a beeline straight for you.

You called out the coordinates, not only the ones headed your way but the ones farther out.

900 and closing.

“Roger, coordinates confirmed,” Tactical replied.

800 and closing.

There was more and you still called them out.

700 and closing.

Now you were starting to panic inwardly as numbers and letters spewed out your mouth.

600 and closing.

You didn’t even have time to finish when the first rounds hit.

500 and closing.

“Good effect on target,” you called.

400 and closing.

“Roger, repeating,” it was a different voice now. You think that was the officer of the battery.

300 and closing.

Now it was time to leave. They’d had plenty of targets by now. As you switched back to fighter mode, an explosion ripped the nearby bandits to shreds. It sent you on a tumble through space. With all the knocks your cranium was subjected to, your brain finally got fed up with all of it and just shut down.

[1/2]
>>
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>>34014696
“Pecker.”

There was that voice again. It was female but it sounded different. You really had to stop waking up like this.

“Pecker, I just,” the voice continued, “I, uh.”

Huh?

“Pecker? You’re awake?”

You grunted an affirmative. Your eyelids were still so heavy but you forced them open anyway. The sudden need to process vision didn’t help the growing migraine.

“Don’t move Pecker, you’re still hurt,” it was familiar voice now that you focused.

“Maliki?” you tried.

It was a struggle trying to formulate anything coherent at the moment but you managed anyway.

“Yeah, it’s me Pecker, Maliki, stay still the doctor will be here any moment,” she replied.

Maliki, your roommate, and friend of countless years, was sitting by a bed, your bed. The room was white and it beeped. So a hospital room then, you concluded. It meant you were back aboard the Avalon. There were many questions on your mind at the moment but it hurt to think, let alone talk.

>Ask Maliki questions (write-in)
>Just wait for the doctor
>>
Rolled 23

>>34014730
>Ask Maliki questions (write-in)
Put our hand on hers. And wait.
>>
>>34014730
>Ask Maliki questions (write-in)

"So I got shot by the Harpy right?" Gods she comes on too strong. Anyway what the hell was that fight all about?"
>>
>>34014730
>Just wait for the doctor
it looks like we're alive and that's all I care about
>>
>>34014730
>Ask Maliki questions (write-in)
"How many confirmed kills did I get?"
We are a pilot, this is important information.
>>
>>34014730
>>Ask Maliki questions (write-in)
So what happened out there?
>>
>>34014730
oh no! the first female appears!
Quickly, divert all power to avoiding waifuing!
>Just wait for the doctor
Goddamn it /tg/ don't disappoint me, you can resist your waifu urges
>>
Rolled 74

>>34014765
This.
>>
>>34014828
It's a Macross quest, I don't think we can, but I agree with you.

Childhood friend is always worst
>>
>>34014867
I mostly just get annoyed how /tg/ immediately grabs whatever female is thrown in their direction first and makes her 100% waifu consequences/logic be damned.
I know it's like ordering the tides not to rise, but damn if I won't try
>>
>>34014730
>>Ask Maliki questions (write-in)
>"So I got shot by the Harpy right?" Gods she comes on too strong. Anyway what the hell was that fight all about?"

(seconding this:)
>>34014791
>>
>>34014955
I propose we romance Space. Through any means necessary.
>>
>>34015341
I hear she can be a bit... cold
>>
>>34015341
Well if "flying" won Frontier, I can't see why Space can't win.
>>
File: Starry Night Ver.3.jpg (1.96 MB, 1920x1536)
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>>34015426
As with all such endeavors you just need to be persistent and durable.
>>
>>34015341
This has all of my support.
>>
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Maliki’s eyes were red and tired. It was pretty normal, all things considered. She kept odd hours, but given her job it wasn’t much of a surprise really. You struggled to move, hell, anything. She took the hint, grabbing your hand and holding it close. It was comforting in a way.

“So,” you began, “What’s the score?”

“Oh Pecker,” she sighed, “You’re just like auntie Dorothy.”

“How many?” you insisted.

“Two confirmed,” she held her chin with her index, “I think you spotted at least a hundred targets though. They said you were very brave.”

“Brave enough to be shot at by that harpy,” you muttered, “And after?”

“Well it’s been like, two weeks now,” Maliki was back to her worrying, “We were afraid you wouldn’t wake up. They were going to bump you up to Major.”

“Well damn. So what was that fight all about anyway? Did we win? I don’t remember most of it.”

“The doctors said you wouldn’t,” she answered, “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask whoever was in charge. I just heard you got yourself hurt again.”

“Sorry about that then.”

Your family didn’t quite have the happiest of histories in regards to military service. Maliki was probably afraid you’d end up like your mother, who also happened to be her biological aunt. Technically she was a cousin but you really didn’t see the resemblance. She was a tiny 145cm compared to your 200cm of height. Sure both of you had black hair but that was genetically the most common hair colour. She also was darker than you were, owing to her parentage. You were paler with a tinge of olive, as if your genes couldn’t decide between Zentraedi and Caucasian. Your features were angular whereas she was more rounded.

[1/2]
>>
>>34015649
Still, this was the first time you were actually hospitalised due to combat. It wasn’t that bad now was it? After all, this was the Macross Avalon, one of the most advanced colonial fleets in space. You think only the corporate funded Macross Galaxy was more advanced as opposed to the environmental Macross Frontier. You liked to think that the Avalon was a,

>Transhumanist Paradise
>Naturalistic Utopia
>Pragmatic Solution
>>
Rolled 63

>>34015671
>Pragmatic Solution
>>
>>34015671
>Naturalistic Utopia

Fuck yeah! Trees!
>>
>>34015649
>They were going to bump you up to Major.

Does that mean promote and then take off life support?
>>
>>34015671
>>Naturalistic Utopia
We got trees and grass and shit
>>
>>34015671
>Transhumanist Paradise
Fleshy bits are overrated.
>>
>>34015671
>Transhumanist Paradise
Cyborg stronk?
>>
>>34015714
An honourable discharge yes. Killing you outright, probably not.
>>
>>34015671
>Pragmatic Solution
>>
Rolled 7

>>34015671
>Pragmatic Solution
>>
>>34015671
>Pragmatic solution
>>
>>34015671
>Pragmatic Solution
>>
>>34015671
>Transhumanist Paradise
>>
All this anti-culture. You want culture, you make things nice, with trees. Pragmatism and Transhumanism are both signs of a distopia, whilst trees imply happy hippies.
>>
>>34015671
>>Transhumanist Paradise
>>
What's Pragmatic Solution even mean?
>>
>>34015671
>Pragmatic Solution
SAMEFAG TIME
>>
>>34015671
>Naturalistic Utopia
>>
>>34015922
I assume soylent green.
>>
>>34015671
>Transhumanist Paradise
I always ask for this
>>34015926
in /tg/ that's the only time there is
>>
>>34015671
>Transhumanist Paradise
Cyborg jet/mech pilot now all we need is a partner and we can fight crime.
>>
>>34015671
>Pragmatic Solution
>Transhumanist Paradise
>Naturalistic Utopia
HAHA, WHY NOT ALL OF IT?
>>
>>34015896
That is incorrect. Transhumanism can also be an art what with the various ways that the body can be modified and changed. Some would even call it inspired.
>>
>>34015671
>>Transhumanist Paradise
>>
>>34015982
How would cybernetics work with Macronization? I don't want to get HUEG and not have an arm.

>>34016001
Disgusting.
>>
>>34016001
Transhuman a shit
Posthuman best girl
>>
>>34015707
>>34015734
>>34015934
Au naturel
>>34015684
>>34015756
>>34015759
>>34015763
>>34015780
>>34015926
The middle path
>>34015736
>>34015739
>>34015812
>>34015914
>>34015949
>>34015982
God from the machine
>>
>>34016060
When in doubt i always assume deus ex style cybernetics
>>
>>34016060
Trees ain't shit.
>>
>>34016102
Middle path
>>
Rolled 2

>>34016102
Looks like we're rollan then,
1. Pragmatism
2. Transhumanism
>>
>>34016103
I assume Shadowrun cybernetics, which kill your soul.
>>
>>34016139
Come on, we had a tiebreaker here >>34016133
>>
>>34016212
He also forgot to count >>34016048
which would have it back to a tie anyway
>>
>>34016212
Voting window is fifteen minutes.
>>
>>34016139
I never asked for this

Oh well, least that means if this runs for at least 5 years, we'd be able to skip the VF-25 and go right to the VF-27
>>
File: Macross Galaxy.jpg (85 KB, 1022x623)
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The Avalon took some cues from Galaxy. Cybernetic augmentation was a thing. It was useful to not only the elderly and infirm but also to the everyday citizen. Most if not all had some cybernetic implant or another, not to mention all the gene therapy that some went through to eliminate genetic diseases. If anyone asked you if you’ve ever caught a cold, you’d answer that it was only a theoretical possibility aboard the Avalon and not because you were an idiot. Conspiracy theorists often harped on about how the air aboard was awash with virulent, deadly and Orwellian nanomachines. Anyone with a working eye implant could tell you the composition of the atmosphere down to the last Mole.

Not that you had any implants mind, you liked to be able to macronize to fly Queadluun-Rheas should it ever become necessary. They tended to mess with the macronization-micronization process. It was why full sized Zentraedi were rare aboard. They few you did see were Force Recon, pathfinders and scouts of the fleet who flew the aforementioned suits. Most of the time, everyone was the size and shape of the average human, even they were heavily modded underneath the hood. With your latest misadventure, you were beginning to wonder if you should invest in some, ability to macronize be damned.

Your moment with Maliki was soon interrupted by the doctor, the former ushering herself out whilst the latter went to work. Thankfully you were pronounced mostly healthy. The doc hadn’t of course elaborated on whether you were fit to fly or not. That was left for the delightful visit from some unknown face in the force. The Harpy wasn’t kidding. You, along with one other Force Recon Quealuun-Rhea, had managed to survive the encounter. It was why you were grasping your discharge papers with no small amount of disbelief. Well they weren’t official yet but still. You were going to,

>Vehemently protest
>Look for more lucrative work
>Get to the bottom of this
>>
>>34016945
>Get to the bottlom of this!
>>
>>34016945
>>Get to the bottom of this
>>Vehemently protest
Both seem appropriate
>>
>>34016945
>>Get to the bottom of this

"means tilfit"
Thank you, captcha, that sounds insightful though I don't quite understand it.
>>
>>34016945
>Get to the bottom of this
Damned if they're deny us access to space.
>>
>>34016945
>Look for more lucrative work
>Get to the bottom of this

We should be able to get work with a PMC, but we should still find out what they're doing so we can make sure we get a decent recommendation.
>>
So, I'm going to ask the most important question. Do we like Fire Bomber? If so what's our favourite song?
>>
>>34017930

POWER TO THE DRE-EEEEEAM! POWER TO THE UNAHVERSE!
>>
>>34017978
HOLY LONELY LIGHT!
>>
>>34017930
You get to Burning.
>>
>>34018168
Wrong show.
>>
File: Sergei.png (249 KB, 383x480)
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“With all due respect sir, this is bullshit,” you threw the papers back at him.

“Don’t call me sir, First Lieutenant,” he replied, “I’m not with NUNS. Sergei Matfeyich Kutzetsov.”

He offered his hand but damn was that name a mouthful.

“Just Sergei is fine,” he smiled.

“Pecker,” you shook, “So do you mind telling me what this is all about? If you aren’t NUNS how’d you get this?”

“Strictly speaking I work for NUNS but not as a part of it,” he answered.

“Private security then,” you conclude, “This is some shady stuff isn’t it?”

“Not quite,” he shrugged, “But that doesn’t really change the fact that NUNS are considering letting you go.”

“Uh huh. Why?”

“Your record is exemplary, but that’s not,” he said, “See, as one of the only two survivors of your last engagement the official line is that it has affected your mental stability and so will medically discharge you from the force.”

“I don’t recall having PTSD.”

“You don’t,” Sergei nodded, “But you also don’t have a single implant on you. While technically the NUNS is supposed to be an equal opportunity employer, each Emigration Fleet is basically its own nation-state. There’s incoming legislation that will require most recruits to undergo implantation, some of the Chiefs up on high prefer their pilots be given a choice.”

“Get an implant or leave?”

“No,” he corrected, “NUNS doesn’t really like their pilots having implants, it makes force integration a pain when personnel are shuffled around between the various fleets.”

“But they’re bound by the civil administration aboard the Avalon,” you realised, “So they’re outsourcing.”

Sergei grinned.

“The final decision of course, is yours, any questions?”

>Ask about future employment
>Ask about NUNS’ implant policy
>Ask about your last engagement
>Ask another question (write-in)
>>
>>34018309
Urgh, couldn't they ship us to a non-retarded fleet rather than let us go?

>Ask about future employment

So I'm assuming they're gonna outsource their work to PMCs, know any decent ones that would take a non implanted pilot?
>>
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>>34018309
>Ask about your last engagement
>Ask about future employment
>tfw chipheads takin our jobs
>>
>>34018309
Ask him if he could pump his hand and make some train noises. For some reason it just feels appropriate for the situation.
>>
>>34018309
>Ask about NUNS’ implant policy
There may be hope yet.
>>
>>34018487
This
>>34018511
Yes.
>>
So, is Pecker the MC's surname?
>>
>>34018931
Nickname, says in the first post.
>>
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“You know, I’m sure this could all be avoided if they just shipped me off to some different fleet,” you remarked.

Never mind that if they did, you’d be moving away from Maliki, and your dad. It didn’t bother you that much.

“If only life were so simple Pecker,” he nearly laughed, “Don’t forget that tumble you got in to two weeks ago.”

“So what about it?”

“The intel pukes think we may be in for another first contact situation,” he whispered, “Beyond that, I can’t tell you more until you’re firmly signed up.”

“Yakk deculture!”

“Yeah that was the Meltran’s response too when we debriefed her,” Sergei smirked, “As the only two survivors, you are the only two with combat experience, no matter how negligible against them so that’s why we can’t just let you go just yet.”

“So what’s NUNS going to do about this new legislation?”

“You know that if you’re missing anything then NUNS will gladly shell out a prosthetic for you right?” you nodded, “Anyway the mandatory stuff will probably only be ocular. But if you’re asking then you probably uncomfortable with digging out an eyeball just to stay in right?”

“Sort of, I’m half-Zentraedi, dad’s side,” you replied, “We have an old Queadluun-Rhea. Sometimes I take it out for a ride.”

“Yeah I don’t see NUNS shelling out for a human-sized and Zentraedi-sized implant just because you like to moonlight as a Queadluun-Rhea pilot,” he concurred.

“Say I don’t get an implant, what are my prospects?”

“Well, we at Strategic Military Services, will open our arms to any skilled pilot who wishes to work for us,” he made a show of opening his arms, “It’s mostly like working with any other NUNS squadron, only ours get shiny new toys to play with. In fact we’ve just received some very interesting data regarding a very rare Valkyrie. Only three were ever made.”

You just shook your head as Sergei filed out with a grin.

[1/2]
>>
>>34019481
While the issue of whether to get an implant or not was important, you didn’t have to worry about it until an actual representative from Spacy showed up to talk to you about it. There were both advantages and disadvantages of course so you had to consider it, just not now. Shelving the issue, you remembered that the doctor said you were free to leave later today. You weren’t schedule for duty at all in the foreseeable future so it might be nice if you could find a place to waste your time in. The question was where.

>Let’s go see dad
>Head straight home
>Find the other survivor
>Hit the pub
>>
>>34019481
>Head straight home
Let's go stargazing. It's been two weeks since we've seen them right?
>>
>>34019527
>Hit the pub
Get drunk and find a viewing port. Relax by space watching.
>>
>>34019527
>Head straight home
>>
>>34019527

Hit the pub
>>
>>34019527
For the sake of breaking the tie
>Head straight home
>>
You were feeling better now that you were walking under your own two legs. Most of Avalon’s rapid transit was by automated cars that carried you where you needed to go. The other alternative was the tube. That was like riding a log flume, except you were inside the log and it was more violent than an actual flume. It was the kind of thing you regularly took. Most NUNS personnel were shuttled about by it in most emergencies. Not today though. You walked with Maliki back home. Technically it was her apartment but she never made an issue with it since you helped with rent.

“What are you feeling for dinner tonight Pecker?” she asked.

Neither of you cooked. The modern conveniences of the Avalon included a true automated food processor. When that didn’t work, there were always deliveries.

“Don’t bother, I don’t think I’ll be having dinner here tonight,” you replied.

It was a nice three room apartment. The bathrooms weren’t shared but the living room was. Golden disks the size of your head were framed about the walls. Plastic disks the size of your hand or smaller lay strewn about the room. Each one contained songs. There were even some old cassette tapes too. Those were the more valuable ones though Maliki as ever left them out carelessly.

[1/2]
>>
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>>34021286
“Alright, well I’ll be up late mixing again tonight so see you alright?” she sighed unhappily.

Then she disappeared in to her room to make more noise the contemporary music industry considered music.

Shaking your head, you entered your room. Inside was sparse, with a work station, a trombone case, and a few papers on the bookshelves. You didn’t have a bed, preferring the couch outside. Framed on your wall were your various diplomas and the odd award. You ignored them for a change of clothes and a six-pack of cold ones. Tonight you were heading out for that one spot between deck 17 and 18. It was darkest there, the best place to go stargazing in the Avalon. Tonight you were going to drink.

>To whom do you raise your drink?
>>
>>34021376
To the vastness of space. May it forever accept all those who venture into the dark between the stars.
>>
>>34021376

To ourselves for living through another bullshit mission
>>
>>34021422
And to all who end up in her cold, loving embrace, never to see the warmth of home again.
>>
>>34021376
To my self. I am awesome.
>>
>>34021376
To what's her name.
>>34021422
This.
>>
>>34021422
>>34021474
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T--JS16uSV8
>>
>>34021376
Throw on some Fire Bomber, and toast to Nekki Basara.

Deculture!
>>
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Loss, you were familiar with loss. It may have been on a smaller scale before, when your mother died, or when Yellow Squadron lost a man or two along the way. Now it was just you, Yellow-4, that would be able to raise his drink at all. In your thought, you drank to the cold vastness of open space. It accepted those who would travel its paths and it would forever hold those who could never return. You may have parted ways with your friends here but in the sea of stars, surely, you’d meet again someday. The beer was unusually salty tonight as you drank with the stars.

It was a week later that Spacy decided to get off their arses and talk to you. In the mean time you spent most of your time stargazing. Sometimes you would drink, sometimes you’d curse that stupid mission, sometimes you’d figure yourself awesome, sometimes you’d put on some Fire Bomber to try and cheer yourself up, most of all though, you weren’t too concerned with your appearance too much. It probably was why the lady from Spacy wasn’t exactly happy to see you looking a bit rough around the edges. She managed to keep a straight face as you handed her a coffee and sat down on the couch, leaving only the small chair for her.

“I’m First Lieutenant Irina Kudo” she started, “You’re aware of why I’m here?”

You sat up quickly, recognising that voice.

“You,” you nearly pointed your finger at her, “You’re that harpy.”

Her looks darkened a touch.

“I say again,” she continued unperturbed.

“Yes, yes, whatever,” you interrupted, “You, you were there.”

“We may discuss your last engagement,” she offered diplomatically.

>Discuss your last mission
>Ask her why she’s here
>>
>>34022044
ask why she's here
>>
>>34022044
>Ask her why she’s here
No need for politeness. She gets to keep her job.
>>
>>34022044
Is she asking me why I broke up with my ex-wife?
>>
>>34022044
>Ask her why she's here.
>>
>>34022044
>Discuss your last mission
>>
>>34022284
She take my little girl!
>>
>>34022044
>>Discuss your last mission

Some closure would be nice. Well, we probably won't get it, but we can try.
>>
You dismissed the thought from your mind. It was more important to ask her why she was here. After all if Sergei was correct, then she was here to present your retirement package, as it were. When you thought about it like that it didn’t sound as bad.

“Nevermind,” you waved it off, “So why are you here?”

She handed you a sheaf of papers. Yup, they were definitely your discharge papers. It was disappointing to note that they weren’t really offering much.

“You’re letting me go for medical reasons,” you summed it all up.

“Correct.”

She didn’t elaborate further at all.

“You’re not offering me a lot are you?”

They were offering half your pay, which wasn’t that substantial to begin with, a month. Then again it was to be paid until you died.

“No,” she replied.

“Well I can live with that,” you shrugged, “My discharge, it’s got nothing to do with a certain new piece of legislation is it?”

“Yes,” her shoulders slumped.

“So, if I wanted to continue to serve I’d have to get the minimum standard of implants.”

“Yes,” she eventually answered, “Spacy recompense you for them.”

“You’re not very talkative are you?”

“No.”

“By the way, your last name, are you related to,” she interrupted you.

“No,” she was rather emphatic.

“Well I suppose I should thank you for your visits because,”

>”I was intending to retire anyway”
>”I’m interested in getting some implants”
>>
>>34023154
>”I’m interested in getting some implants”

Some window shopping won't hurt
>>
>>34023154
>>”I was intending to retire anyway”
We've been given a better offer.
From better people, at that.
>>
>>34023154
>”I was intending to retire anyway”
I'm sure there are many other jobs which require someone to fly through space.
>>
>>34023154
>”I was intending to retire anyway”
>>
>>34023154
>>”I was intending to retire anyway”
>>
>>34023154
>>”I was intending to retire anyway”
>>
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>>34023250
Fly through space indeed.
>>
>>34023154
>”I was intending to retire anyway”
We can become a space trucker.
>>
>>34023551
That's not how you spell fu- oh Trucker.
>>
“I was intending to retire anyway,” you finished.

“I see,” she got up, “Then good luck in the future Pecker.”

The both of you shook before you showed her the door. Then you came back to the couch and sat back down. You were now officially unemployed, even if you were being paid a small amount of money from Spacy every month. It was barely enough to cover your half of the rent. Well it shouldn’t be too hard to find employment, if Sergei’s pitch held any truth to it. If that didn’t work out, well, there was always good old dad. His company did help you with your degree and you did do a bit of intern work there too so maybe they’ll have an opening for you or two.

First things first, you had to actually get your CV sorted out. In fact, ever since you joined Flight School straight after finishing your Masters, you really haven’t had to worry about job hunting at all. Your old university friends often said it was the easy way out. From your calculations, you were paid about two hundred credits every day to get shot at pretty much once a week. That usually shut them up quick.

Now what was your Masters degree in again?
>Engineering (Mechanical)
>Science (Biology)
>Liberal Arts (Trombone)
>>
>>34024098
>Liberal Arts (Trombone)
Lets do it!
>>
>>34024212
Let's.
Spoony Bard in SPAAAAAAAAAAACE!
>>
>>34024098
>>Science (Biology)
>>
>>34024098
>Engineering (Mechanical)

Nobody ever writes about the mechanics.
>>
>>34024212

Trombone.

All up in this shit.
>>
>>34024098
>Science (Biology)
With all this focus on cramming technology into people, somebody needs to know how the fleshy parts work.
>>
>>34024098
>>Liberal Arts (Trombone)
>>
>>34024098
>Science (Biology)
>>
>>34024394
While I'd ordinarily go for that, it being my own chosen path, I just couldn't resist the silly option.

I'm sorry, anon
>>
>>34024098
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCmTJVew_tY
But really,
>Science (Biology)
>>
>>34024098
>>Engineering (Mechanical)

Let's get some shit tinkered with.
>>
>>34024641
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytBrU14LmXE
is a better version
>>
>>34024098
Changing
>>34024293
to
>Liberal Arts (Trombone)
I have been swayed to the spoony side.
>>
Within the time limit the votes are

>>34024212
>>34024510
Trombone

>>34024293
>>34024338
>>34024465
Biology

>>34024394
Mechanical Engineering

>>34024401
>>34024310
Not sure whether these are votes or not.

I think someone deleted their vote as well. This confusing me. I'm going to ask for a revote if you don't mind. Please quote clearly.

>Biology
>Trombone
>Engineering

You have 5 five minutes as of this post.
>>
>>34024728
>>34024310 was a vote.

>Trombone
Voting for it again, against my better judgement.
>>
>>34024728
>Trombone
>>
>>34024728
>Biology
>>
>>34024728

>Engineering (Mechanical)

Tinkered
>>
>>34024728
>>Engineering
>>
>>34024728
Mechanical engineering
>>
>>34024728
>Biology
>>
The engineers have it then, strangely enough.
>>
>>34024728
>Engineering
>>
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>>34024924
>>
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>>34024949
>>
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>>34024990
>>
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It was a degree in Mechanical Engineering. You supposed that was why you were readily snapped up at the recruiting office. Then again, you weren’t cut out for just working on Valkyries or the like. No, you were the one that flew them as well. It was just a happy accident that you happened to know they worked at the mechanical level. As for your thesis that you worked on with your father and his company, it was about a new theoretical directed energy weapon. You never built it of course, the whole point was proving that it was theoretically feasible, thanks to the works of Dr. Chiba on the Sound Energy. You got up from the couch. It was time to get some work done, as soon as you remembered your name.

Episode 1 End. We’ll run again on Monday.
https://twitter.com/BoredofDirector
Next Episode: Job Hunting
Gonna take a shower, ask questions, suggest names, comment on how I flubbed char gen again.
>>
>>34025320
>You supposed that was why you were readily snapped up at the recruiting office.
So if Trombone had won, why would they have taken us?
>>
>>34025320
Thanks for running, Bored.
>>
>>34025320
Günther Schmidt
>>
>>34025456
Because we volunteered.



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