>>443568
Oh whoops, previous thread.

>>424186

>>443568
>> “How badly did you get hit?”

>>443568
Obligitory
>Do you think I'm cute?

> “How badly did you get hit?”

>>443568
>> “Eyes on the road, trooper.”

>>443568
> “How badly did you get hit?”

>>443568
> “How badly did you get hit?”

>Entered service at 18
>Only a half-decade from our perspective
We're only 23?

>>443568

> "WANT TO KNOW HOW I GET THESE SCARS?"
> "How badly did you get hit?"

>>443583
>Obligitory
>>Do you think I'm cute?
yes

>>443586
>>443589

We could totally be an idol.

>>443592
Exactly! She's gotta be cute.

Just because she's mobile infantry doesn't make her ugly. She's probably just /fit/.

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>>443594
But people don't like visibly /fit/ idols

>>443596
Why not?

>>443596
Lies and blasphemy.

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>>443597
Idols have to be feminine and cute. Having thighs thick enough to crush a man's head kind of ruins that

>>443596
>>443594
Even men (who are more prone to visible muscle) have to undergo specific training and workouts in order to get bulgy and cut muscles. Military PT just focuses on strength and endurance. She'd just look athletic at worst.

>>443568
>Other
"Where'd you drop?"

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>>443604
>>443596

Objection!

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>>443596

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>>443613
>>443606
>Implying troopers don't get modifications to be even stronger

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>>443619
>>443596

So, basically this is the MC?

>>443619
>>443623

Even if you were jacked to hell on steroids, you have to be constantly maintaining superlow bodyfat and constantly doing extremely high level training to keep muscles up. With her current lifestyle of constantly drinking and passing out it's more than likely she's gotten a little flabby and soft to the touch as opposed to being an amazon.

> “How badly did you get hit?”

“How badly were you hit?” you ask.

Mills shrugs, looking forward to the road. It’s a redlight now, so you got some time to talk. “I was on Centennia. I dropped with the 56th MIP Regiment about a year or go or two.”

You blink. “MIP?... That’s a Pathfinder Regiment, you were a Pathfinder?”

He smirks. “Not to boast, but yes, ma’am. We were dropping to lay down advance beacons for the rest of the force when the Bugs ambushed us. Thankfully, no one was killed, but I took the wrong end of a plasma burst. Tore off my legs, my arm had to be amputated.” He shrugs again, sighing. “Sent me to the rear to finish out my term, but I decided to go career to try and get back there but they wouldn’t have me. So here I am.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you say. “The Pathfinders were always a reliable bunch, I will say that, Mills.”

“Well, I mean, it’s life or death for you if we don’t do our jobs. It’s a very simple logic,” he explains. “I knew a guy in the K9 Corps who thought the same way, bought it last week.” Oh, oh… last week. You sigh. What a horrible waste. “If you’re wondering, no I don’t regret it, Lieutenant?”

“What?”

“Regret signing up,” he says. “It’s a fabulous thing, citizenship. It’s your right to vote, it’s your one duty in the Federation. Besides…” He slaps the metallic hull, smiling. “It makes a good story.” You nod at that, silent. “… were you ever injured or-“ He smiles. “What about the action that got you the Terran Cross?”

> “Mills, green light.”
> “I don’t really want to talk about that.”
> Change the subject.
> Other

>>443631
>“Mills, green light.”

>>443631
>> “Mills, green light.”

>>443631

> Terran Cross for cuteness

In reality?

> Tell him what happened. What even happened?

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>>443625
>Being taken off the frontlines means that curves are growing back in all the right places

>>443631
>> “Mills, green light.”

>>443631
>> “Mills, green light.”

>>443631
> “Mills, green light.”
Talk about how the battles we fought with rifles and mortars are over. Now we have to focus battles fought with cute smiles and catchy songs. We have to start training ourselves, because we have always led by example.

>>443646
It's a real thing. While it's not military, go take a look at what happens to female gymnists once they retire as they're a much more prominent example. All that fat they were fighting just comes back all at once.

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>>443631
> Other
this guy is a model citizen, i really like his unbreakable enthusiasm for war. i think we ought to share our coolest war story.
it was a cool story, right? not like we got the medal because they couldn't pin it to a ziploc of ashes?

>>443631
>> “Mills, green light.”

>>443659
I'll back this.

> “Mills, green light.”

“Huh?” He looks forward. “Oh, sorry, ma’am.” And with that, his attention returns back to the road. The sun is already starting to set on Aberdeen now, hopefully you have enough time to get to the MWI AND recruit your last girl (not necessarily in that order). It’s good though that you managed to distract him from telling the story of how you got the Terran Cross.

Of course you didn’t do anything cowardly or murderous. If you did, nobody in the MI would ever forgive you. Of course, if he wants to learn how, he can just look up your TC Citation. Heck, the Prime Minister awarded you the medal personally. You settled back in your seat, sighing deeply.

This is the first time you’ve seen a red and orange sunset on the Earth in years. You’re not going to go out of your way to make Mills drive you up to a mountain just to look at it though. There’ll be other sunsets.

-

-

The Factory’s main gate was filled with young and old girls dressed in boiler suits heading home. Back during the early days of the war, probably when you were still messing your pants, the girls would either join Fleet to be pilots or enter the Factories to bolster the suit production (mostly in correcting errors the robots would make or manufacturing things that aren’t necessarily important but still needed.) You stepped out along with Mills, then try to make yourself noticeable. “Hey, hey! Who wants to be an Idol!?” you yell.

But everyone just brushes past you, yawning and more concerned about getting home than Idol things.

Well, screw you all too.

Hmph. “Oi, madam.” The Security Guard standing at the gate smiles at you. “If you’s a looking for some girls, some be working overtime inside.”

“Thanks,” you say. You nod to him, then walk in with Mills.

The Factory is a gigantic mash of organized chaos. Even without all the girls working on fixing any malfunctioning robots or correcting errors or building handheld weaponry for colonists, things were just as busy. Robotic arms were busy assembling suits, welding them and sealing them shut to protect against the vacuum of space or intense atmospheres. Girls working overtime were busy building handheld rifles for colonials to use in self-defense.

And your favorite part, a few robot arms were putting together jump jet packs for the suits.

Man, you should’ve come here earlier. “Can I help you?” You look up to see the Factory foreman, an old man with a missing arm and a curly white moustache above his lips.

> “I need your cutest girl.”
> “Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”
> “Gimme a tour, I want to see the new suits.”
> Other

>>443718
>> “I need your cutest girl.”
Let's get down to business so we can get back to caking-out with Mills.

>>443718
>> “I need your cutest girl.”

>>443718
>> “Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”
Let's just do this like in the high school

>>443718
>> “I need your cutest girl.

>>443718
>“Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”

>>443718
>> “I need your cutest girl.”

>>443718
> “Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”
if he's a good foreman (and we don't rub him the wrong way) he'll know which girls on his line would be a good fit for idolatry.
even if we flub he might still have a daydreamer he wants to offload before she fails to lock out tag out and gets wrapped around a line shaft.

>>443756
This

>>443718
>> “Gimme a tour, I want to see the new suits.”
Look for girls as we go through the factory.

>>443718
>> “Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”

>>443718

> "Sure, let's talk and I can give you the details."

Guys, we need someone talented, not necessarily someone cute. If the two coincide, that's great.

>>443718
>> “Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”

> “Sure, let’s talk and I can give you the details.”

You nod, holding up your arm. “I’m a Lieutenant from the Mobile Infantry! Let’s talk and we can work out the details, my request is gonna be a bit odd.” He quirks his brow, confused. “I’m guessing your office is up there, don’t worry, me and Mills can find our way around. We know how Factories work. Hell, my Dad built the suit I wore when I was the MI, or so he claims.” Yeah, hehehe…

This is going to be awkward.

-

-

“Aye, aye. Lost the arm on Tesca.” He sets down a glass of scotch on the rocks for you, while Mills sits back and listens. The Foreman is busy telling you his story. Not a bad one if you’re honest. “Bug caught me and the Lieutenant by surprise, but the Lieutenant slashed him. Not before my arm got torn off though. He saved me life that day.” He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. His office is filled with MI memorabilia. The only thing it really lacks at this point is the suit. “So… what exactly do you need?”

“I need a girl who’s willing to enlist in the MI and also good at singing and dancing at the same time,” you explain quite bluntly.

“… you what.”

“Yes,” you say.

“Why?” he asks.

“Propaganda purposes. The Federation is putting together an Idol Group to help reach out to the youth who just aren’t enlisting in great enough numbers or donating enough money to the war effort. The Federation is on fumes at this point,” you explain again.

“Awright, I see, um.” He scratches his chin, puffing his cheek out. “Well, um.” He snaps his finger. “I can give you Olga.”

“Who’s Olga?” asks Mills.

“She’s working overtime today, Olga Schwarber. She’s uh… Well, I’m going to be blunt, she’s my boss’ daughter.” You and Mills look at each other, curious. “Rich girl type, really spoiled, you know? But uh, her father has been looking to get her a good place in the Federal Service. If she enlists, she doesn’t go into combat right?”

You and Mills glance at each other again.

> “There’ll be exercises.”
> “Maybe.”
> “No.”
> Other

>>443805
>> “Maybe.

>>443805
>> “Maybe.”

>>443805
>> “There’ll be exercises.”
Everything can be considered an exercise if you think about it hard enough!

>>443805
>> “There’ll be exercises.”

>>443805
>> “There’ll be exercises.”

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>>443805
> “There’ll be exercises.”
we're making idols Of Troopers, For Troopers.

we have learned from history and will not repeat mistakes

>>443805

> "The brass wants them to tour on the front lines on occasion, engaging in light exercises. I think they're fucking idiots for that much, and will be trying to talk them down. However, rest assured, if they're the flag bearers of the MI, they'll be kept safer from the bugs then damn near anyone else who doesn't live behind a desk."

>>443838
This.

>>443838
>>443805

> "Also, you gotta give me more. Get me a girl who's good with her hands and the suits. Cute is a plus, but I want someone easy to work with and who can keep our show suits operational. In exchange, I can offer a kickback for taking her off your hands. Not to mention, the better the war, the bigger the orders."

>>443805
>Other
"Everyone fights. You know the motto. Sure, she won't be thrown into the grinder, but she's still going to have to put in time on the front."

>>443805
>> “There’ll be exercises.”

>>443816
>>443827
>>443833
>>443835
>>443838
>>443845
>>443851
Are you guys intentionally lying to the guy, or did you forget what the Prime Minister told us?
This is the Mobile Infantry, everyone fights and we lead by example.

>>443874
I believe my post speaks for itself. >>443816

> “There’ll be exercises.”

“There’ll be exercises here and there, it’s the MI you know,” you say forcibly. The Foreman nods, understanding. “But really, I mean, is Olga good with suits and tech stuff? Considering she’s in a Factory?”

“She should be, here Father worked day and night to get where he is on this place,” says the Foreman. “He owns the place, he owns three other factories round Aberdeen what build suits for the rest of the MI. We contract with Morita and British Leyland to build these things. I guarantee you, she knows how a suit works in and out. She just uh…” The Foreman shrugs. “Maybe you should meet her first.”

You sigh, then take a sip of scotch. Oh boy.

-

-

“Olga.” The Foreman calls to a girl lying on top of the tip downed frame of a suit. She nods her head along to some music being played, a plush Arkellian sand beetle on her lap as she fools around on her PDA. Probably checking social media or stuff the kids these days. “Olga!” Olga flinches, then looks over. She pulls one of the ear buds out, smiling. “Olga, these two are from the Mobile Infantry. They’d like to talk to ya, wee child.”

Olga blinks, tilting her head. “Oh? Did Daddy send you to recruit me?”

“No, I’m here of my own accord,” you state. At least, that’s sort of the truth. “Olga, let’s not mince words. I’m talking to you because A. you’re attractive, and B. you know your way around a suit, don’t you?”

Olga frowns a bit. “Not really. I mean- I used to watch my Dad weld and put together suits all the time but…” She waves you off. “That was when I was in diapers.” She tilts her head, realizing something else about what you said. “What did you say about me being attractive?”

“I need Idols, I already have two, I need a third.” She gasps, her eyes glittering. “Are you willing?”

She hops off the frame, holding her sand beetle plushie in her arms. “D- do I get to dance, and sing!? In front of thousands of people?” You nod slowly. “Really!?” Her cheeks start getting red as her grin goes wider and wider. “D-… do I get to meet Shannon Shujumi!?”

“Who?” you ask.

“You know.” Mills taps you. He WHAT. “Shannon Shujumi!” He turns to Olga. “Banzai, banzai, hai, hai! Totsugeki!” Olga bounces along to the lyrics, giggling excitedly as Mills sings some strange serenade to her in that Japanese dialect. “Ah! See-“ He turns to you and sees your disapproving face. “… I’ll be quiet.”

> “Look, you can meet whoever you want, do you want to sign up or not?”
> “Sure, you can meet Shana Shijami!”
> “I won’t guarantee it.”
> Other

>>443902
>Other
"We can work towards it."

>>443902
>"If you and the other girls do well enough, become successful enough, then I'm sure you'll get a chance to meet her."

>>443902
Seconding >>443907

>>443907
Thirding.

>>443907
This

>>443902
> Other
yes but. don't be upset if she only exists in two dimensions, OK? is it a robot, is it bad autotune, you just can't tell.

>>443874
i'm hoping that we get to combat-train the teeny boppers before throwing them into the spiky alien mosh pit.
they don't have to be GOOD at fighting, but the girl needs to be more than a musical millstone.

> Other

“Well, listen, if you and the others do well enough, become successful, yeah I think there’ll be a chance for you all to meet her.”

Olga holds out her hand. “I’m your gal then!” You shake her hand firmly, making her cringe for a second in pain before excitement quickly suppresses it. “What do I have to do?”

“Be at the MWI by 8, sign your enlistment papers beforehand. It’s relatively straightforward stuff. I’m sure the Foreman here can help you.”

“Aye, I can,” says the Foreman.

“This is so schway I can’t believe it!” Olga tugs on her hair a little, biting her lip. “I’m going to be an Idol!” She bounces around the Facotry, unable to contain her excitement. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! AAAAAHHH!”

Man, you hope you weren’t that annoying when you were a kid. “Well, if you need a ride-“

“I’ll meet you there, don’t worry!” says Olga. “I’ll be a functioning member of the Mobile Infantry just you wait!” She gives you a thumbs up. “I’m doing my part! Yes! Yes!” She jumps up in glee, continuing to run around the place, unable to contain her energy.

“She does that a lot,” says the Foreman.

“I can tell,” you say back.

Well, you’ve got your three Idols now. You check your watch. 7:30 on the dot. MWI is only a few minutes drive away. Hm…

> Hit the bar, you can stand to have a few drinks before you settle the red tape.
> No, no, go to the MWI, make sure everything is squared away while you’re still sober.
> Other

>>443968
>> No, no, go to the MWI, make sure everything is squared away while you’re still sober.

>>443968
>No, no, go to the MWI, make sure everything is squared away while you’re still sober.

>>443968
>> Hit the bar, you can stand to have a few drinks before you settle the red tape.

>>443968
>> No, no, go to the MWI, make sure everything is squared away while you’re still sober.

>>443968
>> Hit the bar, you can stand to have a few drinks before you settle the red tape.

>>443968
>> No, no, go to the MWI, make sure everything is squared away while you’re still sober.

> No, no, go to the MWI, make sure everything is squared away while you’re still sober.

-

-

The MWI building isn’t too conspicuous. It looks like anything else here in the Capital City save for the faded “MINISTRY OF WAR INFORMATION” studded into the front of the building and the steps leading into the entrance. With the night coming in quick, most volunteer office girls were headed home, with only the dedicated personnel staying, having a few smokes on break, and working hard on making sure the War looks fun from home.

“Lieutenant!” A man waves you over, sunglasses over his burnt up eyes, like your old theatre teacher. “I’m Terrence Danner, I’m the Editor-in-Chief and Chief of Operations here at the MWI.”

“Nice to meet you.” He leads you and Mills inside the building. The place is already starting to become deserted from everyone going home, except for the dedicated civilian volunteers working of course. Inside however there was Danner’s office, overlooking all the desks and computers where volunteers would sit and censor and edit information pertaining to the war effort. “So you were already briefed?”

“Yeah, the PM’s office told me today, gave us quite a scare,” he says. He feels around for office door, then grabs the knob and opens it up. “Go on, have a seat.” You nod, and look around his office. It’s relatively barren, save for only the essentials. You suppose someone who’s been blinded in combat doesn’t need too much to look at. “So, I’m meeting with the girls and briefing them in about ten minutes, you know what you’re doing, Lieutenant?”

“To an extent.”

He grunts, sitting down at his desk, patting the hardwood with his fingers. “Alright well… here’s what we’re going to do. We’ve already scheduled a photo op later this week, we’ve got photographers waiting at the Processing Station for them tomorrow for when they get fitted and processed and their FSO chosen as well. The PM’s office is very clear that I assist you as best I can but quite bluntly we uh… we’re quite stretched thin.”

“How so?”

“We don’t have money,” he explains simply. “But hey, if the Idols can raise them, we can get you some good stuff. Sound good?” You nod at that. “Right, right. Any questions?”

> “Nah, I think we’re good to enlist them.”
> Ask a question (which?)
> Other

>>444060
> Ask a question (which?)
Can you put me down as an Idol?

>>444060
>> “Nah, I think we’re good to enlist them.”

>>444060
>Ask a question
Singing lessons, dancing lessons, a dance choreographer and a song writer.
We need all of these; how can we get them?

>>444060
> Ask a question

No money? How the hell do we do anything then? Do we get basic facilities and transport if nothing else?

>>444078
This

>>444078
Supporting

> Ask a question

You smirk a bit. “Yeah, you think you could put me down on the list too?”

Danner points to you, shaking his head. “The PM said you’d say that.” Damn. “Besides, I think she’s wrong. You do look cute.” Aw, thank- You blink, looking at his sunglasses again. OH, HA HA. VERY FUCKING FUNNY.

You sigh, folding your arms. “Another question. Where are we going to get a songwriter, or a choreographer, or instructors for singing and dancing?”

He tilts his head. “I figured you’d have had them by now.” You shake your head. “You don’t?” You shake your head again. “I think you’re shaking your head, but could you like, say no?”

“No, I don’t have them,” you say.

“Hm… I suppose we could put together some cash to hire one. We’re kind of stretched but I won’t force a hero of the Federation to spend so much cash for something like this. You know anybody?”

Well, you know one person, he’s…

> A songwriter
> A dancer
> A stage technician

>>444134
> A stage technician

>>444134
> A stage technician

>>444134
> A stage technician
A good stage tech can work miracles.

>>444134
>> A stage technician

>>444134
>> A stage technician

>>444134
>A songwriter

> A stage technician

You take a moment to leave his office, then take up a phone. After a minute of waiting on the dial tone, he finally picks up. “This is Keiji Azuma, Tippett Theatre Productions, how can I help you?”

“Azuma,” you say. “It’s me.” All you really need to say.

“Lieutenant?”

“I have a name, Azuma.”

“Well- I mean-, y- you’ve always been the Lieutenant, ma’am.” He stutters a bit.

Private First Class Keiji Azuma was one of your finest soldiers under your command during your time in the MI. Always reliable, willing to help out the rookies, and never backed down from a fight unless you ordered him to. It’s nice that he got into stage production like he said he would when his term was up but… well, it’s going to be disappointing dragging him out of it, that’s for sure. “Keiji, I need your help.”

“What is it? It’s not loan sharks is it? I just had to help my roommate out with that yesterday, I’m sick of being the hench solution to everyone’s problems.”

“No, no, it’s not loan sharks. It’s-… you do stage stuff right? Special effects, audio work, all that cool theatre stuff?”

“Erm, aye, I do. But… where are you going with this, Lieutenant?”

“Keiji. I’m going to be very straight with you. I’ve been asked to produce an Idol Group for the Federation, and I need personnel that can help. We already got three girls, and the key is to enlist them in the Mobile Infantry, and have them sing some songs and beat up some bugs, and make the war look good to the kids so they enlist and buy war bonds.” Keiji’s silence is deafening. “… So yeah, I need your help.”

“How much does it pay?”

“… not a lot,” you admit.

“So, you want me to quit my current production right now, which is paying me MUCH more money than you could muster, to do some weird propaganda bullshit for the Federation which puts young girls’ lives at stake, am I hearing this correctly?”

You lean against the wall. Fucking Azuma. Come on. “… Yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

…

He sighs. “… when do I start?” You blink.

“T-…” You stop yourself. “Tomorrow, do you think you could come by Aberdeen, to the-“

“Processing Station? Yeah, yeah, I can make it early in the morning I guess. I need to talk to my director. Was there anything else you needed?”

> “No, thank you, Azuma.”
> “If you could poach some choreographers or song people, that’d be great.”
> “Maybe just a drink with you would be fine.”
> Other

>>444212
First
> “If you could poach some choreographers or song people, that’d be great.”
Then
> “Maybe a drink with you would be fine.”

>>444212
> “If you could poach some choreographers or song people, that’d be great.”
> “Maybe just a drink with you would be fine.”

>>444212
>“If you could poach some choreographers or song people, that’d be great.”
>Other
"First three rounds are on me."

>>444212
>"No, thank you, Azuma."

>>444212
>> “Maybe just a drink with you would be fine.”

> “If you could poach some choreographers or song people, that’d be great.”

“Well, I mean, if you know any choreographers or songwriters or singers…”

“You’re asking me to poach people too.”

“If it’s practicable. I won’t ask much else if it’s not, Azuma. Honest. You coming to help is quite enough.” You open the door and look to see Mills and Danner waiting. You give them a thumbs up, signaling that you have acquired Keiji Azuma. Mills smiles, giving you a thumbs up back, while Danner stares confusedly at you. “But hey listen, we can go out for a drink later. I even made friends with a pathfinder, he’s probably got some stories to tell.”

“Eh… I guess. I’ll see what I can do, but don’t expect much, alright? I want to have some semblance of a career after this you know.”

“Great! I’ll see you in the morning then, Azuma?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” And with that, he hangs up.

“Right, stage tech is good to go,” you say as you sit back down. “And I’ve got him looking for more people we need too, hopefully at cheap cost.” You hold up a finger. “By the way, facilities. Are we going to…”

“You’ll be a hitching a ride on the SFTC Jimmy Stewart. It’s an old Rodger Young-class.” … A Rodger Young-class transport corvette? Those things are older than you are! “Hey, I know you’re frowning at that, but it’s in the area, it’s patrolling the Sol System, and the PM isn’t willing to give you something more elegant. Besides, I rode in one of those TCs myself. They’re beautiful!”

“They’re fucking ugly,” you say simply.

A civilian worker knocks on the door. “Sirs, ma’am. The girls are here.”

“Alrighty!” says Danner. “Let’s go meet them then!”

-

-

The three girls all sit in the photography room, where some photographers are busy calibrating their cameras to work. Danner has another worker go through their paperwork, and approve them very quickly. Rosalie looks over at Stacy. “Hi, I’m Rosalie!” Stacy grunts, scooting away from her. Rosalie looks forward, awkwardly.

Olga however looks around curiously, blinking in surprise. “Wow…”

The worker hands Danner the paperwork. “Alright, girls. Tomorrow morning, you’ll be sent to the Processing station. Now, the Lieutenant here is your tentative Recruiter. So if you have an FSO in mind, do tell her now before the computers at the Processing station do it for you.” He hands each girl their Dossier. “Here you go.”

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>>444357
> ROSALIE O’CONNOR
> BIRTHDAY: AUGUST 20, 2286 (AGE: 16)
> RACE: CAUCASIAN/HISPANIC MIX
> BLOOD TYPE: O+
> WEIGHT: 120.5 LB
> HEIGHT: 5’6”
> DISABILITY WAIVERS APPROVED FOR SHORTSIGHTEDNESS

> ATHLETICS: F
> INTELLIGENCE: B
> SINGING: F
> DANCING: F
> CHARISMA: F
> PATRIOTISM: A+

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>>444363
> STACY ELSON
> BIRTHDAY: JUNE 6, 2285 (AGE: 17)
> RACE: CAUCASIAN
> BLOOD TYPE: AB-
> WEIGHT: 150 LB
> HEIGHT: 5’8”
> ACADEMIC AND SOCIAL DELINQUENCY NOTED

> ATHLETICS: A+
> INTELLIGENCE: D
> SINGING: C
> DANCING: A+
> CHARISMA: F
> PATRIOTISM: D

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>>444368
> OLGA SCHWARBER
> BRITHDAY: JULY 4, 2286 (AGE: 16)
> RACE: CAUCASIAN
> BLOOD TYPE: A+
> WEIGHT: 120 LB
> HEIGHT: 5’4”

> ATHLETICS: C
> INTELLIGENCE: B
> SINGING: C
> DANCING: C
> CHARISMA: C
> PATRIOTISM: C

“What’s an FSO?” asks Olga.

“It’s the Federal Service Occupation. Each occupation has a number code associated with it,” says Rosalie. “And when you enlist, you’re expected to serve in that occupation. However all FSOs are expected to function as rifleman when needed. All rear echelon duties are fulfilled by civilian workers.”

“That’s right,” you say. “Textbook answer. You should’ve received a list of FSOs in your paperwork.”

Olga raises her hand. “So we can be any job we want to be?”

“Well…” You plant your tongue firmly in cheek. “I’d rather you choose to be one of the primary infantry classes.” Everyone shrugs at that, except for Rosalie, who looks positively excited to choose. “Rosalie, would you like to choose first?”

“BOY WOULD I!?” she yells.

> 0201: Shocktrooper – Lead assaults, form the backbone of the squadron, and fight the bug in almost every situation imaginable. No weaknesses but no real strengths apart from offensive capabilities. Utilizes medium range firepower, and suits come with high-powered Railgun for anti-armor support.
> 0202: Scouttrooper – Utilize Snooper probes, take advantage of increased jumpjet power, and enhanced speed to reconnoiter the area. Weak offensively, but great for supporting a main assault with long ranged weaponry. Carries only a grenade launcher for suit support, but also is backed up by recon drones to assist in scout duties.
> 0203: Tanker – With heavier armor, besiege the frontline with high powered weaponry and armor. This comes at a cost to mobility of course, and with mobility close range defense. But in protracted engagements can be a god send, along with supporting a squadron of Shocktroopers. Carries a suitmounted Micro missile rack along with heavy machine guns for personal combat.

>>444398
we'll pick different jobs for each girl right?

> 0202: Scouttrooper – Utilize Snooper probes, take advantage of increased jumpjet power, and enhanced speed to reconnoiter the area. Weak offensively, but great for supporting a main assault with long ranged weaponry. Carries only a grenade launcher for suit support, but also is backed up by recon drones to assist in scout duties.

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>>444402
That's right.

>>444403
I figured the Int would be more useful as a scout.

>>444398
>0201: shocktrooper

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>>444398
>> 0202: Scouttrooper
>Rosalie's stats

>>444398
>> 0202: Scouttrooper

>>444398
>> 0202: Scouttrooper –
yeah this makes sense stat wise... as long as her bad eyesight doesn't fuck it up, guess she'll need to rely on the recon drones, maybe look into an upgrade on those if it seems needed

> 0202: Scouttrooper – Utilize Snooper probes, take advantage of increased jumpjet power, and enhanced speed to reconnoiter the area. Weak offensively, but great for supporting a main assault with long ranged weaponry. Carries only a grenade launcher for suit support, but also is backed up by recon drones to assist in scout duties.

“A scout!?” Rosalie smiles happily. “Awesome! I’ll do my best!”

> ROSALIE IS NOW A SCOUTTROOPER

You look over at Stacy. “Alright, Stacy.” She rolls her eyes. “Come on, let’s get this over with, Stacy, before I assign you to be a janitor or something.”

“Fine, what do you want from me?” she asks.

> 0201: Shocktrooper – Lead assaults, form the backbone of the squadron, and fight the bug in almost every situation imaginable. No weaknesses but no real strengths apart from offensive capabilities. Utilizes medium range firepower, and suits come with high-powered Railgun for anti-armor support.
> 0202: Scouttrooper – Utilize Snooper probes, take advantage of increased jumpjet power, and enhanced speed to reconnoiter the area. Weak offensively, but great for supporting a main assault with long ranged weaponry. Carries only a grenade launcher for suit support, but also is backed up by recon drones to assist in scout duties.
> 0203: Tanker – With heavier armor, besiege the frontline with high powered weaponry and armor. This comes at a cost to mobility of course, and with mobility close range defense. But in protracted engagements can be a god send, along with supporting a squadron of Shocktroopers. Carries a suitmounted Micro missile rack along with heavy machine guns for personal combat.

>>444455
> 0201: Shocktrooper – Lead assaults, form the backbone of the squadron, and fight the bug in almost every situation imaginable. No weaknesses but no real strengths apart from offensive capabilities. Utilizes medium range firepower, and suits come with high-powered Railgun for anti-armor support.

>>444455
>> 0201: Shocktrooper

>>444455
>> 0201: Shocktrooper – Lead assaults, form the backbone of the squadron, and fight the bug in almost every situation imaginable. No weaknesses but no real strengths apart from offensive capabilities. Utilizes medium range firepower, and suits come with high-powered Railgun for anti-armor support.
Does Charisma factor into combat sections? Because Stacy's F may affect the "leads the assault" part of the job

>>444455
>> 0203: Tanker

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> 0201: Shocktrooper – Lead assaults, form the backbone of the squadron, and fight the bug in almost every situation imaginable. No weaknesses but no real strengths apart from offensive capabilities. Utilizes medium range firepower, and suits come with high-powered Railgun for anti-armor support.

“Um, okay I guess,” says Stacy. She folds her arms, crossing her legs. “So like, I just shoot things and be done with it then?”

“A shocktrooper is a lot more than that. You’re the functional backbone of the Mobile Infantry. Almost every trooper I’ve had the pleasure of serving with were shocktroopers.” Stacy shrugs at that, then starts reading through the FSO lists in her paperwork again. You sigh, folding your arms. “Olga, what do you want to be?”

“Choose something that says me!” says Olga. “I want to be like the big guy, the head honcho, the spearhead, that kind of stuff!”

Well, might be easy, but…

> 0201: Shocktrooper – Lead assaults, form the backbone of the squadron, and fight the bug in almost every situation imaginable. No weaknesses but no real strengths apart from offensive capabilities. Utilizes medium range firepower, and suits come with high-powered Railgun for anti-armor support.
> 0202: Scouttrooper – Utilize Snooper probes, take advantage of increased jumpjet power, and enhanced speed to reconnoiter the area. Weak offensively, but great for supporting a main assault with long ranged weaponry. Carries only a grenade launcher for suit support, but also is backed up by recon drones to assist in scout duties.
> 0203: Tanker – With heavier armor, besiege the frontline with high powered weaponry and armor. This comes at a cost to mobility of course, and with mobility close range defense. But in protracted engagements can be a god send, along with supporting a squadron of Shocktroopers. Carries a suitmounted Micro missile rack along with heavy machine guns for personal combat.

>>444514
>> 0203: Tanker – With heavier armor, besiege the frontline with high powered weaponry and armor. This comes at a cost to mobility of course, and with mobility close range defense. But in protracted engagements can be a god send, along with supporting a squadron of Shocktroopers. Carries a suitmounted Micro missile rack along with heavy machine guns for personal combat.
Should've been the shocktrooper really. She's incredibly average all across the scale.

>>444514
>> 0203: Tanker

>>444514
>0203: Tanker

>>444514
>0201: Shocktrooper
No one says we cant save the tanker for later.

>>444514
> 0203: Tanker

>>444514

Can anyone remind me whose fucking retarded idea it was to A) Try to start a pop idol group with no money when booking, talent, and good publicists are key, B) Send children to a fucking war zone, or C) Do this on a week long goddamn time budget?

>>444564
The same idiots who think we're not cute.

>>444564
Glorious Leader Kim-Il-Thach

> 0203: Tanker – With heavier armor, besiege the frontline with high powered weaponry and armor. This comes at a cost to mobility of course, and with mobility close range defense. But in protracted engagements can be a god send, along with supporting a squadron of Shocktroopers. Carries a suitmounted Micro missile rack along with heavy machine guns for personal combat.

Olga puffs her cheeks out. “Mmmkay.” She doesn’t seem to satisfied with the choice, but thankfully she’s not going to argue. Hell, she might even grow into the role despite the obvious size deficiency. “So that’s it then? We’re Mobile Infantry then?”

“Not until you pass Basic. But that will come when your recruiter here feels you’re ready for that. Normally the Basic Training Course for the MI is eight weeks, abbreviated to six for the war. But… for you Idols, it’s been cut down to one week.” They all blink, surprised. Danner nods, kind of accepting of the circumstances. “So yes, you will have to learn in one week, how to pilot a suit and how to fight effectively in the Mobile Infantry. But that will come when the Lieutenant feels you’re ready.”

“Of course,” you say. “Tomorrow you’ll be heading up to the Processing Station, then we’ll decide if Basic is the right choice. For now though, go take some pictures with the photographers, publicize yourselves, make some cute faces, alright?” Olga grins, then hurries over to the cameras. Stacy leans back, grumbling. Rosalie meanwhile, decides to shyly follow Olga. “Stacy.”

“I’ll do it when I feel like it,” she mutters.

Well, that mostly completes today.

> TIME TO HIT THE BAR
> Wait until the girls are done, at least make sure they get home safe.
> Talk with Danner more about the details, what needs to be done and such.
> Other

>>444590
> TIME TO HIT THE BAR WITH STACY!

>>444590
>> Wait until the girls are done, at least make sure they get home safe.
then
> TIME TO HIT THE BAR

>>444590

> Wait until the girls are done, at least make sure they get home safe.
> Quietly realize that at one's week worth of training, these girls are going to be nothing but a walking joke and soon to be a limping, mangled joke.
> You remember what power armor did to people, why it was reserved for the best of the best.
> You're going to get them killed, not even on the front lines.
> They'll twitch themselves to death far before that happens.
> Maybe enough scotch will wash off the blood.

>>444590
>> Other
Just grab a bottle of scotch out from under the desk you're sitting at where you put it, and drink from it directly. It's pregaming for the bar.

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>>444590
>> Talk with Danner more about the details, what needs to be done and such.

>>444564
I think this quest is deliberately going for a semi-silly, satirical tone that hews closer to the films than the books.

>>444594
pic related

>>444603
We're the Fed, nothing is illegal.

>>444606
I'm pretty sure the military is all about what's illegal and not

>>444599
>You remember what power armor did to people, why it was reserved for the best of the best.
Seriously? Did you read the book?

>>444630
I thought the MI was always about the best, reduce the amount of manpower needed in the field? And IIRC training actually did have several people dying or leaving from serious wounds.

>>444599
We'll probably attach a veteran squad for their first drop, no biggie

>>444590
I support this anon>>444598

>>444645
>I thought the MI was always about the best, reduce the amount of manpower needed in the field
No, it wasn't so much about the best as making sure that everyone was built up mentally as much as physically for the rigors of war.
It was about producing a well conditioned soldier, not reducing the amount of manpower in the field; that's done by using civilian workers for all clerical and support positions.

Everyone in the MI has power armor, and the it's either being in the MI or being in the K-9 corps, there aren't any other ground combat branches.

>>444673
I thought the Mi was sort of parallel to the modern US military, a modern all-volunteer rapid deployment force that favored shock and awe tactics, with a focus on being small and fast instead of a giant juggernaut.

Also, weren't people with 'special talents' mentioned?

>>444680
>Also, weren't people with 'special talents' mentioned?
You mean the psionicists?
There was the one specialist near the end of the book that mapped out the Arachnid colony using some kind of psionic power, but I don't know what else you might be referring to.

> Wait until the girls are done, at least make sure they get home safe.

You take another swig of scotch from your flask. It’ll be a good time to wait and make sure they at least have rides home for now. Olga makes a pair of V for Victory signs with her fingers, grinning at the camera as they all snap photos of her. Compared to the very shy and unphotogenic Rosalie, and the very uncooperative Stacy, Olga is already making waves and bounds.

Hell, enthusiasm like that, she could even make squad leader.

Oh God, a sixteen year old Squad leader. What has the Federation come to.

Danner nudges you. “I can tell you’re nervous. Don’t worry.” You fold your arms, worrying. “The PM knows what she’s doing.”

“Didn’t the PM approve of Hesperus last week?” you ask. Danner opens his mouth, then shuts it closed. Yep, even he can’t justify that disaster. “I’m fine, honest.”

“If you say so,” says Danner. “I’ll help as much as I can. The MWI’s resources are at your disposal. What resources we have anyway,” he mutters. And with that, he turns around and begins walking back to his office.

-

-

“Daddy, I made the MI!” Olga runs up to her burly father. The two of them hug each other tightly, laughing and grinning at the occasion. “I’m going to the station tomorrow! I’m going to be an Idol AND A TROOPER!”

Olga’s father’s eyes go wide in surprise and confusion, then he shrugs. “Ah, whatever gets you working for the Federation, sweetheart, come on!” He carries his daughter into their very nice looking car. Then he turns to you, grinning. “Lieutenant, thank you for giving my daughter this opportunity. I swear, I’ll take the time to build my daughter’s suit personally. She even made Tanker, huh?”

You shrug. “Well, I chose it for her.”

“Ha! I was a Tanker in my day!” He gently punches your arm, grinning. “It’s nice to see her take on the family legacy! Show the Bugs the Schwarbers aren’t done yet! You take care of yourself, alright?” You nod, and he quickly gets in his car. They speed off into the night.

“Rosalie, you walking home?” you ask.

She nods. “Yeah, I’ll just be taking the trams home. Don’t worry.” She grins happily. “Thank you so much for the opportunity! I can’t wait to go into the field!” And with that, she turns and leaves, waving goodbye. “I’ll do my best, Lieutenant!”

You wave goodbye as well, smiling to her. Her patriotism is infectious in all honesty.

[1/2]

>>444687
[2/2]

That just left Stacy. “How’d you get here?” you asks. She pulls on some thick leather gloves. She points to a motorbike sitting in front of the building. “Well, alright then.” Hmph, she could make K-9 Corps if she rides a beast like that. “Well you know, Stacy, show up tomorrow, alright?”

“Whatever,” she mutters.

You blink. “Listen, I know the MI isn’t the best place to be. But everyone’s gotta do their part.”

She shrugs. “I suppose.” She sits down on the seat. “… what made you enlist?” You blink. “Why’d you decide to take Federal Service?”

> “I wanted to be a citizen.”
> “I don’t know.”
> “I wanted to grow up.”
> Other

>>444691
>"Somebody I trusted told me... Told me that humanity needed me. Told me I was special"
Then fight back tears as you realize they lied to you.

>>444691
>> Other
It was either Service or juvie.

>>444691
>“I wanted to grow up.”

>>444703
That kind of choice is heavily discouraged in the setting.

>>444691
>> “I wanted to grow up.”
Guess I'll just go with this then.

>>444691
>> “I wanted to grow up.”

>>444691

> "For the longest time, I went through life feeling like I was lost. I didn't really know who I was or what I wanted."
> "So I figured, why not try being a part of something bigger than myself? Why not help people and help the men on the front lines come back to their families in one piece while I was trying to find my own answers?"
> "Let me tell you, it was rough at times. It was scary. However, in the end, it was an opportunity to find myself, to realize what I cared about and what was worth fighting for."

>>444691
>> “I wanted to grow up.”
"To prove that I was more mature then someone thought I was. But when I came back, he was gone, and I wasn't going to see him again."

> “I wanted to grow up.”

“I wanted to grow up,” you explain.

She blinks, leaning on the handlebars of her bike. “Grow up?”

“When you leave school, you’re going to get thrown into adulthood. And this isn’t the democracies of old that my H and M teacher or yours teach you about where they coddle and spoil you until you’re 22. You sink or swim in the Federation. If you can’t pull your weight, you’re nothing.” She glares at you a bit, seemingly angered by that. “Listen, I was like you when I was a kid. I thought that I was wasting my time believing the Federal Service didn’t matter, that it wouldn’t be worth risking life and limb for, but…” You fold your arms, glaring right back at her. “It was worth every moment and every plasma burst on the suit that I got.”

She huffs. “Everyone grows up.”

“But not everyone can be an adult.” You snap your finger. “You think about that, Stacy. And remember, Thach hasn’t touched the old standards of the Federal Service just yet. If you want to bail, you can bail. Nobody’s going to judge you. But you’ll never be a citizen if you do.”

She takes one good look at you, then looks at the ground. “Alright, Lieutenant.” She kickstarts her bike, then gives a mocking salute to you. You give a salute back. With that, she’s out of here and into the night.

Mills walks up next to you, hands in his pockets. “Well, this how you imagined your day going, Lieutenant?”

“No,” you say.

…

You need a drink.

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>>444756
Need to be heading off to bed. But thanks for reading and participating. Next thread should be sometime soon, will announce later. Hope you all enjoyed.

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
Ask at: http://germanschteel.tumblr.com/
Book Tumbles: http://germanschteelbookblog.tumblr.com/

See you next time.

>>444765
Thanks for running, Schteel!

>>444765
Thanks for the fun, boss.

“Wake up!” Your eyes snap open to the heavily scarred face of Mister Ruszcyk. His single grey eye (the other one got lost in battle, it was covered up by a black eyepatch) was tracking you with a bit of contempt. You lean back in your seat, grinning nervously. “Ah, your winning smile isn’t gonna get you sympathy in my class, Miss. I know you study hard but try not to fall asleep. Just because History and Moral Philosophy is not mandatory does not mean my class is a designated nap time. Am I clear, Mister Flores!?” He slaps his ruler on Dizzy’s hands, making him yelp awake and almost jump out of his desk.

“Y- clear, sir!” says Dizzy. He straightens out a bit, brushing back his curly hair out of his eyes.

“Good, good.” You look around to see the rest of the class murmuring and giggling at the two of you. Oh, ha, ha, very fucking funny you lot. The H&M classroom was on the second floor of the school, which meant that it had a lovely view of the surrounding city of Aberdeen, especially in the afternoon on a cloudless day. Made you want to skip class and go see if you can make the soccer game. But instead, you’re in school, and it’s H&M, the last – and longest – class of the day. “Since you two seem so confident in your ability to get through my class, perhaps you two can help me through my lecture. I’m an old man after all, and with age comes a bit of… frenzy you could.” He runs his hand through his crew cut hair, a bit of grey in the mixture of brown. “Mister Flores. How about you explain C-I-A.”

Dizzy glances at you. Fuck are you looking at? He glances back at Mister Ruszcyk. “Um. Central Intelligence Agency?” The class starts laughing loudly at Dizzy, and to his credit he simply leans back in his seat, glaring back up at Mister Ruszcyk.

“I’ll give you an extra point on your grade for remembering that, but that’s not the C-I-A I was looking for. It’s a mnemonic. We’ve gone over this several times in the past month.” He looks over at you, folding his hands behind his back. “Perhaps you know?” Everyone looks over at you, expecting a funny answer.

> “No, I don’t. Could you explain it again?”
> “… Corruption, Indecision, Apathy?”
> “No.”
> Other

>>455127
>“… Corruption, Indecision, Apathy?”

>>455127
>> “… Corruption, Indecision, Apathy?”
The reasons why the old regime died and the Federation emerged! Victory!

>>455127
>> “… Corruption, Indecision, Apathy?”

>>455127
>> “… Corruption, Indecision, Apathy?”

>>455127
Only HDE can save us! Honesty, Decisiveness, Enthusiasm!

>>455127
> "Cockslapping, Irrumatio, Anal?"

> “… Corruption, Indecision, Apathy?”

Oh, wait, you know this! You snap your finger. “Corruption…” Oh shit. You don’t know this. “Indecision.” He nods to you, expecting the correct answer. Wait, were the first two correct? He hasn’t said anything smarmy or witty so they msut be. Wait, wait. What’s he always call Dizzy when he goofs off. A-… APATHETIC! “Apathy!”

He slaps your desk, smiling. “Textbook. Give her a round of applause, everybody.” The class laughs a bit at you, but give you your round of applause regardless. Dizzy rolls his eyes, folding his arms as he leans back in his seat. “She is right though, corruption, indecision, apathy!” He walks up to the front of the classroom, picking up a piece of chalk and writing the big C-I-A on the board, then writing their corresponding words below them. “What laid low the democracies of old before the Federation can be boiled down to these three simple things. These three very dangerous things. Can anyone explain the corruption aspect?” One girl, you think it’s Kaylee Dorset. “Miss Dorset.”

“The leaders of the old democracies were either bought out by special interests groups like corporations or political parties,” says Miss Dorset matter-of-factly. “Hence, they felt no need to serve the public and the betterment of society.”

“Very good, Miss Dorset, couldn’t have said it better myself,” says Mister Ruszcyk. “Mister Kitamura.” One of the boys sitting in front looks up. “Indecision, explain it.”

“Well, the general public knew about this corruption in the waning eras of the United States, of Great Britain, of France, Russia, Turkey, the great nations before the Federation. With the advent of computer technology, with the increasing globalization of the world, came increased travel of information. Before computers, corruption could be easily swept under the rug. But-“ He holds up an authoritative finger, looking at you. “If corruption was found, it could be dealt with, severely, in the case of the former President Richard Nixon of the United States. But-…” He looks over at you all, probably just for dramatics. “This corruption became a cancer on the democracy. And even when the average person had access to leaked secret files with proof of a candidate’s corruption or the guilt of a party leader’s crimes. They did nothing, because by that point it was so widespread and so accepted at that point, that they believed they were only voting for the lesser of two evils. This created indecision. Who do you vote for when your only options are a criminal or a secret fascist? And this leads to the biggest failure of democracy.” He scrawls three lines under APATHY. “Apathy!”

[1/2]

>>455228
[2/2]

One of the girls raises her hands. “Um, Mister Ruszcyk.” He looks over at her. “I was reading something in the textbook, is it really true that people who could vote wouldn’t?” A few people snicker at that.

“Hey, hey, that’s not a joke,” says Mister Ruszcyk. “Yes, Miss Harding. That is very true. Those with a responsibility to vote, did not. The worst things in this world come because good men do nothing. And your ability to vote, sometimes, indeed most of the time, is your time to exercise your supreme authority in this world. That is what this Federation is built on. You cannot expect to give someone the vote, if they will not use it, or understand what it means. What does it mean to vote, Mister Flores?”

This time, Dizzy says, “It means to exercise our authority.”

“Correct! And you know what else is exercising our authority. Violence. Now, before you say, ‘violence never solved anything,’ please refer to the first page of your textbook.” Nobody needed to, you all knew what it said. “When you commit an act of violence, you are exercising your authority. You are telling the world you are in charge. You are telling the person you just laid low you are in charge. And that is why your vote matters. And why only the Citizen may vote. Voting is not a right, because not everyone understands this. Voting is a privilege to those understand authority.”

The bell rings, finally. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Privilege versus responsibility, chapter eight, I want the worksheets answered and on my desk when you arrive and no excuses either.” Everyone starts packing up. But before you can stand up, he points to you. “You, you stay.”

Dizzy snickers at you. “Busted.”

> “Fuck off.”
> “Maybe he wants to reward me for getting an answer right.”
> “I’ll meet you at your house, Diz.”
> Other

>>455234
>> “Fuck off.”

>>455234
>> “Fuck off.”

>>455234
>> “I’ll meet you at your house, Diz.”

>>455234
>> “I’ll meet you at your house, Diz.”

>>455234
>> “Fuck off.”

> “Fuck off.”
> “I’ll meet you at your house, Diz.”

“Fuck off you manky mutt.” Dizzy laughs, pulling his headphones back around his neck and pulling his hat on. “I’ll see you at your house, Diz.” You give him a bump of your fist against his, then he walks out of the room with everyone else. That just left you and a very stern Mister Ruszcyk.

“You know, he’s not a very good influence on you,” he says. You fold your arms, slouching in your seat. He should watch what he says, Dizzy’s been your friend since elementary. Mister Ruszyk pulls up a chair, then sits down across from you, looking you right in the eye. “I imagine you know why we’re having this chat. Your grades are slipping.” He pulls out a piece of paper from his breast pocket: your progress report. “It’s not good all things considered- how do you even fail gym class, all you have to do is show up?” You shrug. “Right. Silent treatment huh?” You stare at him, not happy at all. “What do your parents think of this?”

You shrug again. “They don’t really think much of it. They just want me to get through school, then I go into their business. We’re a pretty rich family. All of this is kind of irrelevant to me, Mister Ruszcyk. There’s no point in me going to class, especially H&M.”

“Oh, I’m fully aware of that, I try to make the class entertaining regardless,” he says. As if. “Can I accelerate the lesson for you?” You quirk your brow a bit. “It’s about responsibility. Do you know what the worst part of apathy was in those days?”

You hadn’t read that far. Admittedly, you hadn’t read past chapter one. So you shake your head. “No.”

“It was the feeling that the average so-called ‘citizen’, had no responsibility to defend their rights.” He waves his arm around, mockingly. “Oh, I don’t need to go to war, someone else will do it for me, my homestead is well-defended.” He waves his arm again, snorting at it. “I don’t need to vote, everyone else is sane enough to vote for the right candidate. It’s that feeling that they had no responsibility to do anything. That’s what happens when you give things that aren’t earned.”

You glare at him a little. “What are you saying?”

“When I look at you, I see wasted potential.” That stings. “I see a girl who could take responsibility for her actions but insists that just because her parents have lined up a very comfortable well-paying job for her regardless of her education, regardless of her disciplinary records, she does not need to take responsibility.” He rubs his face a bit, sighing deeply. “I won’t claim to know who you are, but let me tell you, I know your kind. You’re the kind of person who wants to matter.” You look away, biting your lip. “Have you ever considered Federal Service?”

“No,” you say. And that’s the end of it.

[1/2]

>>455339
[2/2]

“You know, the right to vote and to hold office isn’t just a reward, it’s…” For once, you think you’ve caught him stumped for words. “It’s a way to know that you’ve grown up.” You tilt your head a bit at that. “Every time you cast a vote, you are telling the Federation that you have done your part, you are a citizen, you have laid your life down personally for the Federation. And you have taken the ultimate responsibility. And because of that, you are telling the world you matter. How about that?”

You silently glare at him, then look down at your hands, finding them suddenly more interesting.

After a few seconds, he stands up. “You know, you can’t shirk responsibility forever. Sometimes, you just gotta man up, alright?” He starts to walk back to his desk.

“Wait!” He turns around to you, surprised. “… maybe-“

The bell rings.

> FIVE YEARS LATER <

OH GOD HEAD SPLITTING HEADACHE OH FUCK OH FUCK. You slap your alarm off, then grab it and shove it off the dresser. Fuck you alarm. You cough a bit, then feel at your throat. Feels like there’s something stuck in there but you can’t- Oh god…

Must have drunk a bit too much last night. Oh… You look around your room. Your old room. Your parents left for Mars years ago, and to that, they left your old childhood house to you. Good to live in for the time you’ll be staying here you guess. You can hear the soft beeping rhythm of the cleaner robot in the living room. But-

Oh your head…

Oh god your stomach…

Oh god your skin!

Must go…

> Shower
> Dress
> Find beer
> Other

>>455341
> Find beer

hair of the dog

>>455341
>> Shower

>>455341
>> Shower

>>455341
>> Shower

>>455341
>Beer in the shower

> Shower

SHOWER!

You barrel yourself out of bed, and immediately you regret doing so. Your blanket has been caught on your bra and your boobs, your pillow just went manky and tried to smother you on the way down, and of course your floor is made of hardwood.

You’re not good at this.

You hear the tiny pitter patter of paws, then look up and see Cyrano, your pet dog. He’s a very healthy Japanese Spitz that you’ve had since you were a teenager. Your parents decided to send him home when they found out you were going back to Aberdeen. Always nice to have a friendly little face at home you suppose. He licks your face happily, panting.

“Fuck off, Cyrano,” you mutter. You’d tell him more loudly, but your heart isn’t in it to yell at a dog while you have a hangover. You crawl your way out of your blankets, then groggily stand up. Oh boy, room-… okay, room has stopped swaying. You rub your face a bit, then stumble your way to your bedroom’s bathroom. Inside is the usual toilet, a shower, a sink, and a hamper for spare clothes. Your uniform is somewhere in there probably.

You strip out of your underwear, then immediately enter into the shower and turn the shower on.

…

You know, cold water isn’t so bad when you’re already used to it. All that time on Mincke’s World has done you some good. You sigh, leaning on the shower wall, letting the water run all over you. There you go, that’s good, that’s soooooo good… You take a look at yourself in the mirror a bit.

Ugh, you’ve gotten pudgy. You need to get working out again.

There’s a knock at your door. “It’s open!” you scream. Ooooh god… It’s probably Mills.

“Lieutenant?” Yeah, it’s Mills. “You in?”

“Shower…” you groan loudly. You hear some heavy footsteps travel through the house, and up the stairs. Your bathroom door flies open, and he steps inside to see you lazily leaning on the wall of your shower, having the water fall right over your naked body. “… sup.”

Mills is dressed in his utility fatigues, with the sleeves rolled over his prosthetics. “Er…” He checks his watch. “We’re supposed to be at the Processing Station in two hours, ma’am.” Oh, was that today? “Do you need some help getting ready or-…” He tilts his head, looking weirdly. “Or maybe you’d like to stay home?”

> “Get me a beer and I’ll be out in ten.”
> “Yes please, find me my clothes.”
> “I wanna stay home, no work, no nothing.”
> Other

>>455448
>> “Make me tea with rum and I’ll be out in ten.”

>>455448
>> “Make me tea with rum and I’ll be out in ten.”

>>455448
> “Yes please, find me my clothes.”

>>455448
>> “Get me a beer and I’ll be out in ten.”

>>455448
> “Yes please, find me my clothes.”

>>455448
This >>455463 looks like an appropriately terrible idea.

>>455448
> “Make me tea with rum and I’ll be out in ten.”

Rolled 2 (1d3)

> Other

“Tea and rum will you?” you ask shakily.

“Right away, Lieutenant.” He walks out, hurrying to your kitchen. Cyrano barks after him, happily chasing him. “Ah, dog! Dog! Aw, you’re a little biter, ain’t you! C’mere!”

You sigh, shutting your eyes.

This is fine.

-

-

You drink a bit of the tea in the cup and saucer that he prepared for you while on the way to the Processing Station. “Lieutenant, I must say, I’ve never met a woman who drinks so early in the morning,” says Mills.

“You’ve never met a woman then,” you say back. You’re still not fully awake, but at least you’re understanding of your environment. Like Mills, you were wearing the MI utility fatigues, a dull grey number with the heavy boots and the thick gloves. Since you were out of the MI, you were not obligated to wear your dress uniform. And thank God, you’re not spending another thirty minutes trying to put on a pencil skirt or some nylons while trying to make sure the hat goes correctly on your head or your hair is correctly done as per regulation.

Fuck that.

The Processing Station in Aberdeen is actually built into the side of a hospital, shared facilities and what not (but you do hear they’re planning on moving to an independent facility so that random patients won’t scare away applicants). Much to yours and also the Federation’s dismay, it seems relatively devoid of fresh meat coming in to the grinder.

But outside the front of the building is the man you called last night. The big guy. The stage tech.

Keiji Azuma. He’s actually held his muscular form rather well from his term. You both step out, walking up to him. He’s dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, along with grey pants as well. “Lieutenant.”

“Azuma,” you smile at him.

He takes a sniff of you. “You been drinking?”

> “Yeah, did you want some?”
> “Let’s ignore that. The girls here?”
> “No…”
> Other

>>455554
>> “Let’s ignore that. The girls here?”

>>455554
>> “Let’s ignore that. The girls here?”

>>455554
>And thank God, you’re not spending another thirty minutes trying to put on a pencil skirt or some nylons while trying to make sure the hat goes correctly on your head or your hair is correctly done as per regulation.
I'd think MI girls would just buzz it like the guys and Navy personnel so it doesn't get in the way in a suit/zero G.

> “Yeah, did you want some?”

>>455554
>> “Yeah, did you want some?”

>>455554
> “Let’s ignore that. The girls here?”

Our issues are our own, unless we're being bitchy. Or really drunk. Or very hungover. Or being told to do something pointless, like putting on a dress uniform.

> “Let’s ignore that. The girls here?”

“Let’s ignore that, are the girls here?”

Azuma folds his arms, frowning a little. “Uh, yeah, they went on in ahead. They’re being thrown into the physical right now.” He leans closer to you. “No offense, but where did you get Rosalie and why is she MI material?”

You shrug. “I wanted to give her a chance.” He rolls his eyes. “By the way, Azuma, thanks for coming. I hope this doesn’t uh… ruin your job or anything.”

“My director fired me,” he states bluntly. Oh, that uh… He shrugs. “But hey, I’m working with you again, we’re in this together anyway.” He sighs. “Along with my little sister.”

“You what?”

A little girl, no older than fifteen waves at you from behind Keiji. “Hey there!” She wears the uniform of the Federal Youth, with a beret with an insignia on it (a sword adorned by a pair of olive branches). Oh shit, his little sister. “You must be the Lieutenant! Keiji has told me so much about you! Can I have your autograph?” She holds out her notebook, and a pen as well to you.

You look at Keiji. “You said you needed people, she overheard my conversation and begged me.” He reaches into his bag, and pulls out a notebook. “I also called in a favor, my ex-girlfriend gave me her songbook, a couple of gems in there but it should be good.” You take it, then look at his sister, confused. “Saki, be polite.”

Saki Azuma bows to you. “Saki Azuma, it’s nice to meet you, Lieutenant-sama.” She holds up her notebook and pen, grinning hopefully.

> “I’m not a celebrity, no autographs.”
> “Fine, give it here.”
> Other

>>455698
>> “Fine, give it here.”

>>455698
>Depends, do you think I'm cute?

>>455698
>> “Fine, give it here .”

>>455698
>> “Fine, give it here.”

>>455711
Also this.

> “Fine, give it here.”

You smile. “Alright, fine, give it here.” You swipe it away from her, then open it up. Wow, someone’s been busy. She’s got signatures from a lot of different MI and Fleet personnel. Even the Sky Marshal! Whoa, that’s- that’s actually.

But, alas, you must be humble. You carefully sign her name down for her. She takes it back, looking at it. “Sweet!” She salutes you, clicking the heels of her boots. Even in that Federal Youth Corps outfit, she seems pretty cute. Much like you even. “Thank you, Lieutenant! I promise you, I’ll do my best!”

“… what does she mean by that?” you ask.

“She wants to be an Idol too,” says Azuma. Oooohhhh.

“You don’t need to worry about training me!” says Saki. “I already have certifications for using the mini-Paladin VIII Youth suits! And I have my weapons certifications as well, and my-“

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to tell me your life story,” you say. She smiles regardless, ready to please. “Listen, I already have three idols lined up. But you can certainly help as well.”

She nods eagerly. “Yes, of course!”

Azuma nudges his sister. “Go ahead inside.” Saki nods, hurrying in. He turns back to you, sternly. “So…”

“So.” You motion to Mills. “This is Career Corporal Mills, he’s the Pathfinder I told you about.” Azuma nods to him, and Mills nods back as well. “Azuma, why don’t you and Mills trade stories. Azuma can tell you about his time under my command, Mills!”

Mills smiles. “Really? What’s the Lieutenant like back then?”

“How long you know her?” asks Azuma.

“Two days?” he says.

“Yeah, she was basically like she is now.”

You roll your eyes.

> Go find your girls.
> Meet with the Processing Station Chief, make sure he knows what’s going on.
> Stay with Mills and Azuma. You can wait for the girls to finish up inside.
> Other

>>455907
>> Meet with the Processing Station Chief, make sure he knows what’s going on.

>>455907
> Meet with the Processing Station Chief, make sure he knows what’s going on.

>>455907
>Meet with the Processing Station Chief, make sure he knows what’s going on.

"Chief, have you been briefed on Project:Terrible Idea?"

>>455942
aka project: Cute

>>455951
AKA Operation Glittery Meat for the Grinder

> Meet with the Processing Station Chief, make sure he knows what’s going on.

-

-

The station Chief looks over the dossiers in his office while you sit in front of his desk. It was a rather barren office all things considered, no worldly possessions, no pictures of family, no nothing. Just him and the Federal Service. You lean back in your seat, taking one last sip of that rum tea or whatever Mills made for you. It was quite good regardless but still. “Well…” The Chief’s moustache twitches a bit in frustration as he squints at it. “Normally, this uh… Rosalie character?” he slaps her dossier down. “4-F. The other two should be fine though.”

“Right,” you say. “So they’re good to go to the front then?”

“And beyond,” he says. “But let me be honest with you, that Rosalie girl won’t last five minutes in Basic. The PM’s Office and the MWI already informed me how this is going to go. You’re not getting an abbreviated training course, you’re getting an accelerated one.”

You blink. “There a difference?”

“Abbreviation implies we leave things out,” he says. He leans back in his seat, smiling a bit. “But hey, I mean, Idols are nice I guess. My daughter listens to Shannon Shujumi all the time. Plus…” He pulls up a newspaper, showing off your three girls in a group photo together, with Olga taking the very reluctant two in her arms and grinning like its Christmas day. “They look pretty cute.”

“So you’re okay with this,” you say.

“I am and I’m not,” he explains. “But hey, if you want, Lieutenant, I can do you a solid. Maybe I could 4-F Rosalie, put in that Federal Youth girl.” Who, Saki? You look out his window to see Saki staring up in awe at the suit on display in the lobby, one of the original Marauder suits. “Now, I’m only a little adverse to children in suits, but she has a better chance of even surviving Basic than Rosalie does.”

“Rosalie’s my girl,” you say.

“Well, hey, it’s illegal to turn away those who want to do the Federal Service. We could probably find her a nice desk job or something,” he says. You gnash your teeth a little. “Just a formality. But really, she’d be better off in the labs as a test subject pricking her fingers on needles.”

“She’s going into the MI,” you declare. “That’s final.”

He squints at you. “Why are you so insistent on that?”

> “I don’t know, but I am.”
> “She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”
> “Because I chose her.”
> Other

>>456104
>> “She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”

>>456104
>> “She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”

>>456104
>> “She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”

>>456104
> “She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”
> “Because I chose her.”

We respect that.

>>456104
>“She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”

She wants it. But she was not certain about being able to sign up. That means combat service since she would be shipped into any other jobs because of her eyesight.

>>456104
>>456133
Additionally isn't he going to put Saki in anyway? Isn't she going to be an idol also? I mean she's perfect for it.

> “She wants to be a citizen, the hard way.”

You fold your arms. “She wants to be a citizen the hard way. The way I took.” The Chief blinks, nodding slowly. “Now, I respect what you do here, Chief, I know you’ve had to turn away a lot of people from the MI and Fleet and towards something that they could do. But this isn’t about what she can do, it’s about what she’s supposed to do. She wants to defend the Federation like anyone else and be a citizen.”

The Chief looks down, twiddling his fingers. “Well, I suppose we can make it happen then. What about Saki?”

“Keiji would never forgive me if I let her enlist,” you say. “Federal Youth should be enough for her.”

“Yeah, just don’t let her cut herself on those knives they give out, those are sharper than they look. My son pricked his finger on one, had to get four stitches,” he says. “I imagine you don’t have the budget for a fourth Idol either.”

“Not right now,” you say. “But she’ll be useful I guess.” You stand up, offering your hand. He shakes it. “Thanks, Chief. Everything should be squared away then?”

“Yep, all 1-A. Ready to ship out to Camp Sugar Watkins,” he declares.

-

-

You meet with the three girls. Rosalie and Olga happily read through a brochure of the Mobile Infantry experience. See the Galaxy, explore new worlds, meet new kinds of alien creatures (and kill them of course). And become a citizen! Ah, they need to redo those brochures. Stacy meanwhile sits glumly in her own seat against the wall, her arms folded and her teeth chewing on the insides of her cheeks. Probably needs a smoke or something. “Lieutenant!” Rosalie waves you over. “They gave me my 1-A! I’m going to be a trooper!”

“That’s great,” you say. Walking up behind you now are Keiji, Saki, and Mills. “Girls, I want you to meet a special friend of mine. This is Keiji Azuma, he’s going to be our stage tech. He was a trooper like me too.” Rosalie looks up at him in awe, while Olga politely greets him. Stacy continues to sit in back, looking at everyone skeptically. “His sister Saki too.”

Saki smiles at everyone. “So you’re going to be Idols?”

“That’s right!” Olga holds Saki’s hands. “Isn’t that great!?” Saki nods, grinning back. The two of them bounce in place, happy as can be.

Keiji folds his arms. “I’ll be handling your stage work, your audio, your special effects, and locations, that sort of stuff I guess.” He looks over at you. “Lieutenant, what’s our schedule looking like?”

You blink, then turn to Mills. Mills says, “We don’t have to send the girls to Basic now. The PM is giving us the freedom to perhaps cut their teeth in a promotional concert of some sort. She does say that we do eventually have to send them to Basic to learn how to be troopers.”

> Plan the concert first. Better to wait.
> No point in waiting, ship out to boot.
> Other

>>456209
>> No point in waiting, ship out to boot.
i ain't confident enough that the girls can coordinate effectively, and that Rosalie's low stats are gonna be a liability

>>456209
>> No point in waiting, ship out to boot.

>>456209
>> No point in waiting, ship out to boot.

>>456209
>No point in waiting, ship out to boot.

If they can't do the combat things, they won't be able to do concerts near the front. A concert now may get people excited for idols that won't be there when they are neck deep in shit.

> No point in waiting, ship out to boot.

“While the concert does sound lovely.” Olga looks up hopefully at you. “I am afraid we must err on the side of caution and allow them to take Basic training first.” Rosalie’s turn to smile and grin at that. Olga and Stacy’s moods immediately flounder at that. “Don’t worry, you girls will be fine. It’s only one week.” Granted, they have to learn what took you six weeks in one. “And you’ll be Idols in no time.” You look over at Mills. “Mills, do you think you can arrange transport for them by tonight?”

“Aye, Lieutenant.” He salutes you, then walks off to make the necessary arrangement.

Olga folds her arms, frowning a little. “So this uh… Basic training.” You nod. “Are there gonna be like, mean people there?”

“They’re only mean because they have to be,” says Azuma. “Unlike say uh… Dune.” Oh, God. Dune.

Rosalie blinks. “Who’s Dune?”

Saki looks up at you two. “Yeah, who is he?”

You and Azuma glance at each other.

> Let Azuma tell the story, he loves telling the story.
> You can describe Career Sergeant Dune like the back of your head.
> Let them imagine him for themselves.
> Other

>>456368
>> Let Azuma tell the story, he loves telling the story.

>>456368
>Let Azuma tell the story, he loves telling the story.

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I hate to say it, but I gotta leave off early. Chrome has died and I'm on firefox and I'm on fumes right now so I'll pick it up for next time.

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
Ask at: http://germanschteel.tumblr.com/
Book Tumbles: http://germanschteelbookblog.tumblr.com/

See you next time.

>>456413
See ya! Thanks for running, Schteel!

>>456413
The Lt. is a qt. Cute schteel. Cute Cuuute Cuuuute!

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>>456428
She is not cute. She is a trooper and troopers are not cute.

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>>456433
Being from Aberdeen, does the Lt. speak with a Scottish accent?

>>456428
I wouldn't describe anyone who curses and drinks like that cute, if it werent for her proven merits she sounds like typical british slag

>>456512
Only when drunk out of her mind. She speaks with a more neutral RP accent (the MI beats it out of recruits to speak in neutral accents so that the enemy can't pick out units based on the way they speak.)

>>456561
See, this guy gets it.

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>>456561
>PICTURED: the Lieutenant being "cute drunk" and Azuma

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>>456579
You know, I'd think MI girls would look more like Zarya.

Which doubles the "I'm cute." joke.

>>456413
Thanks for the fun, boss.