>>2400842

[2/2]

After a few minutes of bone-chattering turbulence, your ride noticeably smooths out and you relax your bone-white grip against your harness.

Around you, the other individuals sharing your dropship turned dedicated Orbit-to-Surface transport release their harnesses, a few even standing up to stretch since they have the opportunity.

You follow suit soon after, taking a full breath without the restraints pulling against your chest. It feels rather nice, though since you know you'll have to put the harness back on for landing you decide on enjoying it while it lasts.

Relaxation takes over for a bit, though your hand idly wanders to your pocket and pulls out the ID card you were assigned back on the TATF Katherina.

The first thing that catches your eye is your own photo, a neutral expression blandly staring back up at you with the clear features of a:
> Man
> Woman

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2400877
1 for man, 2 for woman

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2400877
Same as the guy above

>>2400877
>Woman

>>2400877
> Woman

>>2400877
>> Woman

>>2400877
>Futa

>>2401004
>>2400877
....is this an option? Because I'm interested.

>>2401026
>>2401004

Hilarious, but no; sorry folks.

>>2400957
>>2400961
>>2400965
>>2400972
>>2400996

The dice, and anons, have spoken.

Writin'

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>>2400877

Lauren Meylor, age twenty-two. Fresh recruit for the 'security' section of the Alpine Mining Corporation; same as everyone else in the transport. As if to prove that you're a generic, and disposable, asset, your ID card contains nothing more than your photo, your name and age, and the company's logo.

If you live for long enough, maybe they give you one that isn't just a plain white card.

Black hair frames your face, spilling out from where it's been pulled back behind your head. Hopefully, you'll be able to find something to put it into a ponytail; would be a damn shame to just cut it all off at this point.

"Hey! Greenhorn! You awake over there?"

[1/2]

>>2401115
What is that a picture for ants?

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>>2401115
>150x297

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>>2401119
>>2401148

I don't know why that compressed that much, I'll fix that in a sec.

>>2401115

[2/2]

Looking down to the other side of the transport, you spot a young man walking towards you, a thin smile on his face. His approach is interrupted, however, by another recruit grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Aw, shuddap Lowis! You're as green as the rest of us you fuck!"

A few laughs spill out as the interrupter shoves this 'Lowis', nearly making the guy fall over though he recovers quickly enough. Feinting dusting himself off, he shoots a glare over his shoulder before looking back at you, that smile quickly reappearing.

"C'mon now, can you at least tell me your name?"

You just blink at him, not entirely comfortable with the sudden surge of attention from the rest of the recruits. There's an awkward moment, but right as you're about to respond he beats you to the punch.

"Or... Uh, well, why did you join up with the Company? That can't be too bad, yeah?"

Your response?
> "I'm going to buy citizenship to a planet that's not in the middle of a war"
> "They're paying for medical expenses"
> "It was this or prison"
> Other

>>2401178
>> "They're paying for medical expenses"

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>>2401148
>>2401119

This should be better.

>>2401178
>"I'm going to buy citizenship to a planet that's not in the middle of a war"

>>2401178
>"They're paying for medical expenses"

>>2401178
>"It was this or prison"

>>2401178
>"They're paying for medical expenses"

>>2401245
>>2401217
>>2401189

Medical Expenses it is.

Writin'

>>2401178

Pushing yourself to your feet, you take a few steps to make sure your feet aren't asleep before you fully turn to regard Lowis.

Well, it's not that bad of a question to answer, "They're paying for medical expenses in exchange for service".

"Ahh, I see. Well, it's certainly not for you; who's getting the treatment then?" Once again, before you can respond the young man cuts you off with a laugh, "Don't worry about it if you don't wanna say. Anyways, I'm Lowis".

Accepting his handshake, you finally respond, "Lauren".

"And there's the lady's name," Winking at you, it's clear the guy's just putting on a show at this point, "I'll make sure to remember it!"

"I'm sure you will," With a flat tone, any further conversation is cut off by a chime denoting that you all need to sit down and strap back in.

Sitting back down and pulling the restraints on, you've got some time to settle before the pilot starts decelerating, a few individuals that took too long getting thrown around a bit.

Several minutes later the transport levels off and lands, a slight jolt traveling through the entirety of the craft that knocks everyone into gear to get going.

You, personally, don't have anything in the way of personal belongs sans a few changes of company-issued clothing and a well worn photograph tucked into a side pocket. Grabbing your duffel bag, you walk up to the steel rap that leads out to your assignment.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

> Just as a heads up, I've got to stop things here for tonight since I've got work early tomorrow. I'll be continuing this around 4:30 EST tomorrow, so tune in for that.

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>2401409
Thanks for running, I'm certainly somewhat interested so far.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>2401409

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>>2401422
>Rolled 99

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>>2401422

>>2401409
I'm not even going to bother rolling. That 99 is hot.

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Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2401409

>>2400842
StoryT What happened with dreadknight quest and Artificer quest? Seems like your starting a new quest everymonth.

>>2401925

Both AQ and DQ will be continuing; in fact I just finished thread two of the latter the week before this last one. If you missed that it's up in the archive.

The reason I'm running this is because I just finished up training and an exam for my winter job and because of that I wasn't able to get enough planned out to run either of those two quests. So, while I'm getting them in order now that I have some extra free time, I'm running this as a pilot to see how Anons like the premise. Expect to see the next AQ and DQ threads within the next week to two weeks.

>>2401414

Well that's certainly good to hear, considering we've barely gotten through the char gen part of the quest.

>>2402132
Is this a mech quest?
infantry quest?
is it up to our chargen choices?

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>2401409

>>2402430
Glad that was the 4th roll, but you might want to read how many rolls the QM is taking next time to avoid wasting posts

>>2402462
>wasting posts
Not on this board.

>>2402466
Isn't there the 750 autosage limit?

>>2402468
Or 5 days. The point is that regardless if we reach the post limit this thread will be up for over a week.

Back now and writin'.

>>2402406

Mech.

>>2402462
>>2402466

Even if we hit autosage, I'll still run until the thread falls off the board or I get to the end of what I planned to run.

Last thread I ran hit ~950 posts before I finished it.

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>>2401409

The harsh light of Horizon VII's daytime is about as blinding as a flashbang as you walk down the ramp and off the transport. Blinking rapidly away the glare, you wait a few seconds as your eyes adjust.

Looking about the area, you find that your in the middle of some kind of lower mountain area, thick forests all around while various peaks dot the background. Weather's rather nice as well, clear blue skies overhead with a few smattering of high-altitude clouds breaking it up.

In the foreground maybe two kilometers from you, some kind of quarry and mining operation is set up within the confines of the base. Now that you look around...

This place is massive, though not particularly dense. Everything's rather spread out, with that industry on the far eastern edge while what looks like the administrative buildings are further south. Some kind of armored factory is to the northeast and finally what looks like the barracks are all the way west right next to a forest of pine.

Any further observation is halted by a bellowing voice, "ALL GREENHORNS TO ATTENTION!"

Almost by compulsion, you drop your bag and turn to where an absolute mountain of a man is striding forwards. The sheer presence and tone of his voice gets the vast majority of your fellow recruit's attention, though you note several that weren't all that quick on the upkeep getting a hard glare.

"WELCOME, PUKES, TO HORIZON VII! I SEE YOU'RE ALL ABLE TO STAND WITHIN A GRAVITY WELL, VERY GOOD!" Walking along the makeshift line that you're all vaguely in, you can't help but sweat a bit when he walks past you. Isn't this a merc company and not a mi- "YOU ALL HAVE TO BE THE SADDEST SACK OF LOSERS I'VE EVERY SEEN! I'M GOING TO HAVE TO BACK TO OFFICE AND ASK HOW THEY MANAGED TO GET THE TRANSPORT OF RECRUITS SWITCHED UP WITH THE TRAVELING CIRCUS! WHY THE HELL ARE ANY OF YOU HERE!?"

"To make money, sir!" Lowis, apparently having some kind of death wish, responds without any kind of hesitation.

The man stops in place, turning around on his heel slowly to face the smiling man, "And who the hell are you, Keener!?"

"Lowis Haverkort, sir!"

"WRONG!" Arriving right in front of him, you note from the corner of your eye that the idiot is looking a little bit less sure of himself currently, "Your name is now Keener, Keener! Do I make myself clear!? WHAT'S YOUR NAME!?"

"K-Keener?"

"THAT'S RIGHT! AND GUESS WHAT, KEENER? YOU GET TO BE THE FIRST PERSON THROUGH THE GRINDER!"

There's a few murmurs of confusion from the others around you, that swiftly end from a look from your apparent drill-Sargent.

"Drop your bags, pukes," Turning on his heel, the man starts to walk off, "Your training starts now".

This... this is probably going to hurt...

[1/2]

>>2402684

Unrelated, but you bringing up glare makes me think we should invest in sunglasses.

>>2402684

Rather quickly, you become very well acquainted with the 'Grinder'. You also become very well acquainted with the dirt that covers the entirety of the course; the number of times you've slammed face-first into the mud while going through the course slips your mind after the first dozen times.

After running through the muck several times, with Lowis going through it about twice as many times as the average, you're brought over to one of the large, open plots of land within the base and the entirety of your group is told to begin with push ups. The drill-Sargent didn't say how many, though you get the idea when someone goes to ask and is told to shut the fuck up. Before long, sweat is dripping down your body in rivets, mixing in with the caked on mud and eventually forces you to keep your eyes closed just to keep yourself from getting blinded.

The workout continues for some length of time, you stop worrying about it after you live up to the nickname for recruits and empty your stomach off to the side. You're not the only one who does, the sounds of such retching from various other individuals reaches your ears through the haze of activity you're caught up in.

Once the man is satisfied with how many times everyone has puked, you're kicked to your feet and told to run laps. The exertion sends pain lancing up your side, forcing you to grit your teeth to keep going. More than a handful of recruits fall out of the formation, either to puke again or to try to catch their breaths under the blazing sun overhead.

Eventually, you're told to gather your meager belongings and get into the barracks. With how exhausted you are, the fact that you're covered from head to toe in soil and grime doesn't matter; the second your head hits your pitiful bunk you're out cold.

Five hours later, you're thrown out of your bunk and introduced to yet another fun fact: Horizon VII's day-night cycle consists of forty hours. You figure this out when you're told that your training will be done in four, ten hour segments a day consisting of cycles of sleeping, eating, and non-stop PT.

By the third actual day, you manage to get through your cycles without spilling your guts all over the ground.

[2/3]

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>>2402734

A few recruits don't make the cut during this time; no public display of humiliation like your drill-Sargent seems to love to employ, but you don't miss the fact that several bunks are no longer occupied.

The routine of your training just begins to become mundane when things are switched up. In a smaller groups, you're brought to some kind of firing range to being weapons training. The lot of you are started off on simple pistols, told that even if you're going to be piloting a story-high pile of steel and bolts you still need to be able to aim normally.

Surprisingly enough, you take easily to the new training and the instructor at the range, a fiery redhead in what's definitely not regulation fatigues, slowly starts rotating in several kinds of heavier weaponry.

After a few cycles on the firing line, you eventually take a liking to:
> Battle Rifles: middle ground and average, primary base of fire
> Carbines: lighter and compact, ideal for scouting
> Shotguns: short range and fast, ideal in close quarters
> SAW Weapons: heavy and loud, suppression and support fire
> Sniper Rifles: long range and slow, high-priority target hunters

Just for reference, this choice does affect what kinds of mechs you'll be running

>>2402759
>> Shotguns: short range and fast, ideal in close quarters

>>2402759
>Shotguns: short range and fast, ideal in close quarters
I can't say no to a good old shotty.

>>2402759

> Battle Rifles: middle ground and average, primary base of fire

assuming it fits in a mech cockpit, I'd go for this one.

>>2402759
>Battle Rifles: middle ground and average, primary base of fire

>>2402759
>> Battle Rifles: middle ground and average, primary base of fire
40mm autocannon plz

>>2402759
> Battle Rifles: middle ground and average, primary base of fire

>>2402759
>Sniper Rifles: long range and slow, high-priority target hunters

>>2402759
>> Battle Rifles: middle ground and average, primary base of fire

Come on, Close Combat RIP AND TEAR

>>2402796
Yer na bra

>>2402759
>Sniper Rifles: long range and slow, high-priority target hunters

>>2402765

I didn't really word it right, but the scaled-up version of these weapons are what you're going to be using in your mech. You'll have a pistol on your person while piloting.

>>2402762
>>2402764

Shotgun.

>>2402812
>>2402786

Sniper.

>>2402765
>>2402775
>>2402783
>>2402784
>>2402791

Battle Rifles it is.

Writin' in a bit, going to get some dinner.

>>2402821
Oh, yeah, that's what I mean, keep a BR in the mech with us, just in case.
because pistols aren't as good.

Back now, writin'.

>>2402831

I'll see about throwing it into your kit.

>>2402759

Pulling in another shuttering breath, you focus your aim on the target 100 meters away, letting it all out before you squeeze off another set of rounds. The rifle in your hands barks harshly, shaking in your grip but you manage to keep it on target.

Lowering the training weapon, you flick on the safety and examine your work. The spreads' not the best, a few stray shots off target, but for the most part you've managed to do your level best to turn the center of it into dust.

Nodding in slight satisfaction at your work, you place the spent rifle back onto the counter in front of you and pull the magazine out of it, idly checking to make sure that it is truly unloaded before a hand lands onto your shoulder.

Turning around and pulling off your ear protection, you raise an eyebrow at the redhead instructor who's caught your attention.

"Practice is done for now. Put the rifle away and be at the factory at 3100 hours," With that, the gal's off and walking back down the firing line.

Not waiting for someone else to come along and give you another assignment, you pack up your training rifle and hand it back into the quartermaster, who looks at you with a slight amount of disgust. You can't really blame him for that, considering you're still covered head to toe in mud and sweat.

Checking the time, you've got a little over an hour before you need to report. Stepping out into the night, you take a deep breath of the rapidly cooling air.

Now what?
> Go check out the Quarry
> Go check out the administrative buildings
> See if you can find Lowis
> Go back to your bunk, get sleep while you can
> Other

>>2402999
> Go back to your bunk, get sleep while you can

>>2402999
>Go check out the Quarry

>>2402999
>Other
Go wash up. You must be filthy by now.

>>2402999

>>2403088
has the right idea. Wash up, then nap.

>>2403011
>>2403088
>>2403106

Showers then rest it is.

Writin'

3100? how long is a day here?

>>2403135
40 hours

>>2402999

After a few moments of thought, you eventually decide on getting the thick layer of soil and sweat off your skin then maybe hit your bunk. For fucks sake you can smell yourself without even trying...

Heading over to the barracks, you stop by your bunk long enough to grab a clean change of clothes, clean being a little bit relatively with how much wear they've gotten lately, before heading for the showers. Despite how brutal your training has been, at least the facilities are built up enough to have segregated showers. Some places you've been at, both station and ship side, haven't had the space to afford that luxury.

Stripping then stepping into the bare bones stall, you have to resist the urge to jump out of your skin from the ice cold water that suddenly blasts you. Teeth chattering slightly, you force yourself to clean up despite the discomfort. There's not much in the way of hygiene here, your assigned kit only giving you a colorless bar of soap to use. Maybe once you get out of training and start getting assignments, you'll get the chance to get something for your hair.

Or, failing that, you can start looking into finding an in to the base's black market. All things considered, there's no way there isn't one in this place.

Once you're done scrubbing off several layers of dead skin and grime, you dry yourself off with the provided coarse towel and get dressed with your clean set of clothing.

Walking back into the women's sleeping area, you drop your soiled clothing and towel into a linen basket to be cleaned at a later date before dropping onto your rack.

Sighing at the sensation of getting the first chance to relax in what feels like weeks, you look around the room a bit. There's two other gals in here, talking quietly between each other over something or the other. Your curiosity of what they're saying clashes slightly with your desire to nap.

On the other hand, there's one memento of yours that you'd like to look over.

Now what?
> Go talk to the two girls, see what they're up to
> Just go to sleep, you need the rest
> Look over the photo you brought with you, remind yourself of why you're here
> Other

>>2403208
> Look over the photo you brought with you, remind yourself of why you're here

>>2403208
>Look over the photo you brought with you, remind yourself of why you're here

>>2403208
>Go talk to the two girls, see what they're up to
Personal backstory can wait, we gotta go stick our nose in other people's business!

>>2403208
> Look over the photo you brought with you, remind yourself of why you're here

>>2403324
>>2403250
>>2403239

Photo it is.

Writin'

>>2403432
Little sister?
Little brother?
Husband?
Wife?

LET'S FIND OUT!

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>>2403208

Pushing yourself up to a sitting position, you reach over to your duffel and pull out a single, slightly faded photograph. It's a bit frayed around the edges from the times you've looked over it, though this is the first time since you left the TATF Katherina you have. Part of it is due to how exhausted you've been, and part of it is because you haven't wanted to soil it since you've been downright filthy.

But that doesn't matter, as looking over the slightly scowling visage of your younger brother brings a slight smile to your face, just as it always has. Despite his appearance, you're more proud than anything else of him; he's come so damn far in the last year and even managed to get himself into high school on a full-ride scholarship.

After all, it takes one hell of a person to pull yourself back together after getting both of your legs blown off.

Tucking the photo back into your duffel bag, you swing around to see one of the gals staring right at you.

"Got something nice over there?" The speaker, who you can really only describe as 'catty', looks between you and your bag with clear curiosity, "Ooh, ooh, I bet it's something dirty~ C'mon, spill the beans; that a photo of your boyfriend?~"

Your response?
> "Nope, younger brother"
> "Yep"
> Say nothing, just smile at her
> Say nothing, just go to sleep
> Other

>>2403469
> "Nope, younger brother"

>>2403469
>> "Nope, younger brother"

>>2403469
>> "Nope, younger brother"

>>2403469
> "Nope, younger brother"

>>2403469
Are the medical expenses for really good prostheses?

>>2403510

It covers that, medical professionals that aren't street docs, and the cost of the original operation that saved Peter's life.

>>2403472
>>2403476
>>2403477
>>2403509

Sorry kitty cat, no dirt for you.

Writin'

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>>2403469

Glancing over the young woman, you note she's pretty average in terms of features, dark hair and eyes like yourself but with an air of playfulness that's a bit off-putting for a mercenary, to the point of being almost unassuming. Despite this, you can tell that she'll probably see right through any lies you tell.

So, relaxing back a bit onto your rack, you glance over at the two women, "It's a photo of my younger brother".

"Ooh?~" Standing up from where she was sitting, the gal begins to start walking towards you, "Is he cute? Lemme see lemme see!"

"Maria," The other woman firmly grabs her friend by the shoulder, looking at her with a disapproving glance, and gives you a slightly apologetic glance, "I've told you about getting like this around people you don't know. Boundaries, remember? Do try to keep it in mind. Now, I believe we have places to be. Do enjoy your rest".

And with that, the two women leave the the room to you alone. Looking over at a nearby analog clock, you set an alarm for thirty minutes in the future.

Sighing as you sink back into the minimal comfort of your bunk, you feel yourself slowly fall asleep.

You've got to remember to go back and visit Peter at some point; he might be halfway across the system, but he's your brother dammit. If you don't look after him, who will?

> I'm going to leave things here for tonight. Same as yesterday, I'll be back around 4:30 pm EST to continue where we left things off. See you then.

>>2403580
See you then

>>2403580
>mind if I ask what brought you two are here?

Since you posted Titanfall as the OP, are we getting jump packs?

Back now.

>>2403853

They're in the setting, used by experienced light infantry, but you won't be getting a set unless you go out of your way to buy your own set and get training for it. If anons had gone with the Carbine/Scout route, you'd have gotten one.

>>2404507
What were the benefits of BR or shotgun?

>>2403580

It feels like you've barely blinked when the alarm goes off, jolting you out off what was probably a nice nap if you could remember resting.

Regardless, you do feel a bit better now. That's probably due to the shower you took earlier, but oh well.

Slapping the blasted thing off, you pull yourself out of your cot and exit the barracks. Striding across the open base, the sky above you coloring a brilliant red as the system primary sets under the horizon, towards the industrial part of the base.

Your original guess of it being some kind of armored factory, probably what supplies this base with the majority of it's ammunition and spare parts, seems to be correct if the various sounds you hear coming from within the massive structure are any tell.

Further observations are cut off by that same fiery instructor exiting a side door, barely glancing up at you as she taps away at a PDA, "You're here early, good. Head inside, grab a set of armor, and get cleaning".

It's an awkward few seconds as you just stare at the woman, who's clearly expecting a response.

"Do you understand, puke?"

Your response?
> "Yes sir. Ma'am. Whatever"
> "...Is this some kind of hazing?"
> "Are any others coming?"
> Other

>>2404603
>> "...Is this some kind of hazing?"

>>2404603
>> "Yes sir. Ma'am. Whatever"

>>2404603
>"Yes sir. Ma'am."

>>2404559

The shotgun/close combat archetype includes high damage at close range, better protection from close range attacks and melee, melee weapons if you went for those upgrades, medium armor and medium mobility.

The option anons chose, BR/heavy infantry, you'll be finding out what it gets you, but I'll leave that to being a mystery for now.

I'm more or less unabashedly using the XCOM LW soldier classes as the basis for the mech types, so if you want a hint of what's to come you can find it there

>>2404603
>> "Yes sir. Ma'am. Whatever"

>>2404603
>"Where should I start first, and when should I finish by, ma'am?"

>>2404646
>>2404620
>>2404619
>>2404652

Soldier on, Soldier.

Writin'

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>>2404603

"Yes sir," Another awkward silence, "Ma'am; whatever".

The instructor doesn't say a word, just jerking a thumb over to the doorway before walking past you with her nose in her work. With nothing else to do, you enter into the factory through the pointed out door.

The room you enter into is some kind of locker room, with several sets of worn and dirty armor set out along with buckets and rags. It doesn't take a genius to know what you're supposed to do, so after checking over the sets for the one that doesn't appear to have any actual damage to it outside of cosmetic you sit down and get to work.

The realization that the water you're working with is cold is a rather painful one, as you've got to put a hell of a lot more effort into scrubbing just to get the caked on dirt off. Slowly, you get a better look at the body armor you're working on.

Vaguely, you recognize it as a similar set to the one the Alpine recruiter showed you back when you signed up. Of course, that particularly set was shinny and set to the nines, all sorts of gadgets and the like making it look all pretty. This one is practically the opposite, as it's clearly second-hand or at least has been made to look that way.

Out of the corner of your eye, you note Lowis sitting down next to you, his own set of shitty armor in hand and beginning to be cleaned. In fact, now that you notice, there's a few other recruits in here.

Now what?
> Ask Lowis how he's been doing in training
> Ask Lowis what he thinks you're doing here
> Ask Lowis if he enjoys his nickname
> Ask Lowis something else
> Say nothing, keep working

>>2404879
> Ask Lowis how he's been doing in training
But focus on the job at hand.

>>2404879
>Say nothing, keep working
Clean harder and we'll be done faster.

>>2404879
>> Ask Lowis how he's been doing in training

>>2404879
>> Ask Lowis how he's been doing in training

>>2404879
> Ask Lowis how he's been doing in training

>>2404879
>> Ask Lowis if he enjoys his nickname

>>2404879
> Ask Lowis how he's been doing in training

>>2400957
>>2400961
>>2400965
>>2400972
>>2400996
Damn, no longer interested.

>>2405075
You should give ST a chance, he's breddy gud

>>2405038
>>2404928
>>2404907
>>2404905
>>2404890

Let's see how the guy's been doing.

Writin'

>>2404879

"Hey," You speak up quietly, still focused on getting out a stubborn bit of grime from your chest piece, "You holding up there Lowis?"

The hissing sigh through teeth that he lets off at your words tells you a lot, but the grin you catch out of the corner of your eye clashes with it a bit, "First few days were rough, but I'm used to it now. This isn't the first time I've had to soldier. Anyways, you look better now; not vomiting all over the place huh?"

"I've got my stomach now, yes," Trailing off there, you place the finished piece of armor to the side before grabbing the next one. Damn grime...

"I'm surprised you're even talking to me; as far as I'm aware no one's heard so much as a word out of you since we landed".

Fully turning to regard Lowis, you just stare at him for a few seconds before returning to your work, "I've been a busy puking up my guts and sleeping in my own filth to socialize".

That, surprisingly enough, gets a laugh out of the guy, the conversation suddenly halting when your drill Sargent walks into the room. As one, you all snap to your feet and into a salute.

"Listen up!" He's not yelling, but the man's voice practically shakes the locker room you're in, "The ten of you have passed through the basic training enough to begin actual mech training. The first of which is the armor that you are currently holding; It is now your personal responsibility and, from tomorrow on wards, you will be inspected for proper maintenance and upkeep of this gear. Failure to do so will result in being kicked back down to the bottom and a dozen laps through the Grinder; understood?"

The reply is resoundingly in the affirmative.

"Good. Tonight, and every night from now on, you will be performing mock battles with trainer mechs. The first of these starts in five minutes; get geared up and onto the factory floor," He points to the other door in the room, "To receive your trainer and your team assignments. Dismissed!"

Finally putting down your arm, you immediately begin throwing on your armor; a task you're so engrossed in that you barely hear the final words the mountain of a man says as he leaves.

"Congratulations on being the top of the shit barrel, pukes".

[1/2]

>>2405235

[2/2]
With that, the door to the outside slams shut. Huh, funny about that...

Fully geared up, you give yourself one last pat down before heading to the factory floor, Lowis hot on your heels.

Inside are several civilian engineers, who are working on getting what looks like modified cargo haulers. Guess those are your trainers.

The process of getting into the mechs is pretty simple, as your armor integrates easily into what's effectively an over-sized EXO. The HUD and all necessary information appears along the inside of your helmet, the electronics within evidently in perfectly working order despite the surface issues.

After being given the all clear, you take a few tentative steps forwards. A bit of experimenting later, you're comfortable enough with the controls to walk it outside. Lowis, surprisingly enough, is already out in the night ahead of you, just idling about while he waits.

Within the next few minutes, the entire ten-man group is out and being assigned training weapons. From the brief explanation one of the engineers gave, they're all loaded with blanks and a few sensors. The whole thing is being run through a few computers, so that'll be how kills and the like are taken care of.

You're assigned teams, and are given separate GPS coordinates as your starting points.

Setting off into the darkness, you can only brace yourself for the coming fight.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2405245

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>2405245

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>2405245
please dont be a 1

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>2405245

>>2405257

That's a 99, Great Success.

Writin'

>>2405245

Leaving the perimeter of the base, you're immediately brought into the first challenge of this exercise: the mountainous terrain surrounding you is not conductive to piloting a mech, even if these ones are smaller than full-sized ones.

Loose soil, exposed rocks, and overgrown roots practically snap at your heels, and you can hear swearing over the radio of your teammates either tripping or nearly losing their footing. Strangely enough, after the first close-call you don't have another issue. In fact, your movements rapidly smooth out and become damn-near natural.

"Lookin' good there, Lauren!"

Even through the static and distortion of your radio, you can pick up Lowis' cheery tone. Looking over your shoulder, you can pick out which one he is, as he's the one waving to you with his mech's free hand.

"Cut the chatter," Someone else speaks up, the authority in his voice telling you he's not a recruit, "This is Control, Callsign Mercury. Teams Puke 1 and Puke 2, you have one minute to get yourselves situation before the exercise begins".

The silence over the radio tells you that no one's all that happy to have their first callsign be 'Puke'.

From there, leaders are assigned to split up the teams; apparently you're 'Puke 2-4' and you're stuck with 'Puke 2-5' also known as Lowis.

At least you're with someone you know.

"Listen up team," 'Puke 2-1', your glorious leader, speaks up, "2-2 and 2-3 are on me; 2-4 and 2-5, you two can either stick right behind us for support, or try to cut around and hit them from behind".

Your choice?
> You'll stick with the rest of your team, no need to split up
> You'll split off and loop around, no need to group up
> Other

>>2405389
> You'll split off and loop around, no need to group up

>>2405389
>You'll split off and loop around, no need to group up

>>2405389
>> You'll stick with the rest of your team, no need to split up

Just a hunch.

>>2405389
>> You'll stick with the rest of your team, no need to split up
What type of mech is Lowis in?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2405444

Basic trainer same as everyone else.

>>2405398
>>2405399
>>2405443
>>2405444

Rolling to tie-break unless someone else votes within 5 minutes.
1. Split off
2. Stick together

>>2405449
Ah, so we have a basic weapon, not our specialized one?

>>2405452

Yep, everyone's on basic bitch gear currently. Gotta earn the stuff that isn't absolute dogshit.

>>2405457
I went back to re-read after I posted, and realize you already spelled it out. Glad to see no ones acting special yet because they're a stuck up sniper.

>>2405467

Well, they can try to act special; they're just be very special while running laps through the Grinder.

>>2405449

Splitting up it is.

Writin'

>>2405389

"2-1 this is 2-4, we'll be looping around to catch them from the side," The decision flicks back and forth between your mind, but you decide on heading off from the rest. No reason to put all the eggs in one basket.

"10-4 2-4," Your squad leader clicks off, turning to his two mates, "Spread out you two; I want at least 50 meters of separation at all times".

"Puke 1 and Puke 2," Mercury cuts in on the general channel, silencing any further conversation, "All elements are now weapons free. Good hunting".

With that, your leader takes off, heading right along the straight line between the two starting points.

"What do you say, 2-4?" Lowis speaks up, readying his weapon as you watch the three in front of you disappear into the darkness.

Silently, you nod to yourself while just clicking your microphone in response.

Time to hunt.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>2405490
nat 1 incoming

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>2405490
oh boy here we go killing aga...
>>2405495
jesus why

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>2405490

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>2405490
>>2405495
Fuck you, seriously

Rolled 53, 26, 84, 36, 49, 28, 28, 58, 15 = 377 (9d100)

>>2405495

Nice job calling that anon.

That's a nat 1, let's see how everyone else does...

1-3 Lowis, 4-6 Puke 2, 7-9 Puke 1

>>2405490

The foliage in this area is disturbingly thick, between it and the darkness of the night you can maybe see half a dozen meters ahead of you.

"Any luck 2-4?"

Lowis is off on your right, slowly walking through the forest outside of your field of vision. Even still, you have his rough position marked on your HUD, so there's no chance of losing him.

"Negative, switching to NVG".

With a click, your ability to see slightly improves, as the area around you falls under a hard, sickly green tint, but even still there's hardly any clear line of sight.

The next few minutes pass without a word between the two of you, but your trek through the woods suddenly and swiftly ends when a flash from out of the darkness blinds you and the sound of gunfire thunders out.

"Puke 2-4, KIA," Mercury calls out in an almost bored monotone, a few faint keystrokes in the background prelude your HUD going red and a single GPS point pops up, "Cut your radio and head for the waypoint".

Grumbling to yourself at not only being the first out of the fight, but 'dying' before getting a shot off, you head off towards the designated waiting area, the sounds of gunfire coming from right behind you.

Arriving at the 'dead zone', you switch your radio to receive only and idly listen to the combat updates as they come in.

Despite your immediate 'death', Lowis has been steadily tearing through the enemy team, the mech that ambushed you quickly following your lead. Still, for how natural the young man seems to be, he's not a one-man army. After about half an hour of on and off fighting, the entirety of your team has been wiped out. Puke 1 doesn't fair much better, with only a single member of the five surviving.

The order is put out to go back to the starting point, which you follow in silence.

Getting there, you don't need to hear anything to know your three other teammates are a bit pissed right now.

Mercury almost manages to sum it all up with a single word, "Again".

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>2405606
let us receive those 90's again

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>2405606

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>2405606

>>2405609

That's a 49, at least it's an improvement.

I've got to head off now, so I'm going to pause things here. No work tomorrow, thanks to another winter storm coming through the area. I'll be continuing this sometime tomorrow morning, so keep an eye out for it.

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>2405606
All thos high rolls wasted

>>2405609
The 90s are over

>>2405606

The next few days go by in a blur, the new training exercises being integrated for the ten of you that are qualified seamlessly into your original schedule. Teams are frequently switched up, sometimes even sometimes not.

Slowly, you're getting better. Your movements and navigation, even in pitch black, are still flawless, but it's not until the third exercise that you get a kill before being taken out. The next one goes a bit better, and so does the one after, but at that point apparently the other recruits start taking you seriously and you go back to a five game losing streak.

In response, you take every second of free time you get running training exercises of your own in the trainer. Surprisingly enough, none of the engineers protest your off-schedule working. In fact, no one says a thing until you start skipping sleep cycles, at the fiery trainer orders you back to your bunk.

"Falling asleep over there 1-3?"

Blinking at the mention of your designation for tonight's exercise, you look over to where Lowis is. Guy must be enjoying his chance at being a squad leader.

"Negative 1-1, ready," Flexing your grip against the control sticks, you take a deep breath as you prepare yourself.

"All elements, you are weapons free," Mercury still sounds bored. Guess mock battles are too dull for him, "Good hunting".

"Puke 1, on me," Lowis motions for everyone to stick together this time, leading the way but rather than heading straight for the other starting point he's heading further away from the base.

Switching on your NVG, you start scanning the surroundings along the northern flank. Hopefully, you don't run straight into a cannon's barrel this time.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2406139
inb4 nat 100, maybe?

Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2406139
Rolls for the dice!

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2406139

>>2406170
Thank you Anon!

>>2406170

That's a 71, Success.

Writin'

>>2406139

Thanks to all the work you've put in, the thick forest around you isn't quite as obstructing.

Which is good, as you catch movement off in the distance out of the corner of your eye.

"Contact," Quietly hissing out your warning, you duck down partially behind a rocky outcropping, bracing your training rifle in preparation.

"Roger. 1-2 with me. 1-4 and 1-5, stay back and keep eyes open," Lowis heads off to your right, splitting off to come around the flank.

"1-3, do you have eyes on?" 1-5 comms you after a few seconds of nothing, her voice sounding nervous under her forced neutral tone.

Narrowing your eyes, you continue scanning where you saw something move. Frustratingly, whatever you saw has vanished. But that isn't right, there's no way a trainer could just vanish out of sight like that...

"...Negative, I lost 'em," Growling in frustration slightly, you keep looking over that section of the treeline.

"C'mon, let's get going. If we fuck around here any longer we're going to get ca-"

And that when your eyes land on a single figure, poking around a tree with some kind of launcher already firing.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>2406230
Strafe left and fire?

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2406230
Of course, where there's a single hostile, there's bound to be more.

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>2406230
oh no, please don't let me mess this up

Rolled 13, 59, 11, 97, 98, 84 = 362 (6d100)

>>2406230

[??? ACTIVITY]

>>2406256

That's a 79, let's see what that gets you.

Writin'

>>2406230

That first shot is aimed right at you, and you duck behind your small cover that practically explodes upon impact. Several other flashes of light send spots across your vision, denoting even more launcher rounds heading your way, but you've already bugged out of that zone after the first one destroyed your cover.

You don't look back to see where they hit, putting on as much speed as you can to get out of the open.

"PUKE 2 PUKE 2, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MANPADS!?" Lowis' voice roars outs over the open channel, coming in time with him and his partner firing back with their training weapons.

"Puke 2, sitrep now," Mercury is at full alert now, his voice tightly restrained.

"This is Puke 2-1, we're seeing explosions from across the mountain side".

Silence covers the channel, your ears ringing with the static only broken when the roar of automatic rifles begin to fire at your new position.

"All Units, RTB immediately; the exercise is over," Your drill Sargent suddenly cuts in, his voice brokering no disagreement, "Scarlet and I will handle the bandits".

"Sir, 2-4 and 2-5 aren't responding, we cannot RTB without them".

"Follow your orders and get the hell out of there. You don't even have effective ammo on you".

There's a click as the man shuts off his radio, to which Lowis growls in frustration.

"Lauren, we can't leave without those two and we can't fight back with blanks. Now, Scott and I are over here, but you're closer to the injured and those hostiles. You're going to either need to grab them and run while we cover you with as much noise as we can, or you can run right up to them and scare the shit out of them while we grab them. Whaddya say?"

Your choice?
> Go grab the two downed pilots, get out of here
> Slink around and employ some shock and awe
> Other

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2406300
> Slink around and employ some shock and awe
go big or go home

>>2406300
> Go grab the two downed pilots, get out of here
speed is of the essence

>>2406307
he hadn't asked for rolls yet....

>>2406300
>Slink around and employ some shock and awe
Can't move as quickly while towing two downed mechs, and carrying the pilots themselves may not be an option in the case that we'd have to dismount to retrieve them.

>>2406313
d....did I just waste a 100?

>>2406300
can we bank it for later?

>>2406300
> Go grab the two downed pilots, get out of here
No need to take needlessly risks

>>2406300
>> Go grab the two downed pilots, get out of here

>>2406316

To be merciful or not to be merciful...

Now, normally, >>2406313 is right in that I ask for rolls after a choice has been made. But, since I haven't exactly clarified things, I'll let anons make a choice.
> Take the 100 for whatever vote has the most votes
> Bank the 100 but the next nat 1 can't be negated
> Leave the 100 and reroll after the choice has been made

>>2406438
bank

>>2406438
>> Leave the 100 and reroll after the choice has been made

>>2406438
Bank it

>>2406438
>Bank the 100 but the next nat 1 can't be negated

>>2406528
>>2406502
>>2406446

Bank it it is.

> You have gained: 1 Fate Point!

Success, now choose where you're going.
> Grab the pilots, have Lowis and Scott cover you
> Go distract the bandits while Lowis and Scott get the pilots

>>2406542
>> Grab the pilots, have Lowis and Scott cover you

>>2406542
> Grab the pilots, have Lowis and Scott cover you

>>2406542
>> Grab the pilots, have Lowis and Scott cover you

>>2406542
>> Grab the pilots, have Lowis and Scott cover you

>>2406604
>>2406589
>>2406561
>>2406545

Grab the two and go it is.

Writin'

>>2406300

The temptation to run out there and cause all kinds of hell is there, but after another rocket slams into your new cover, you decide to mag-lock your training rifle to your side.

"Cover me you two, I'll make a grab for them".

"10-4; move when we start firing".

Hunkering down, you grit your teeth as you wait for your cover fire to start. Lowis doesn't disappoint, the responding salvo, even if it's nothing but blanks, still sounds like two very pissed off autocannons firing at full. Thankfully, whoever your enemies are flinch, the incoming fire of rifles and rockets stopping as you assume they all hit the deck.

You don't notice yourself, as you're in the middle of sprinting over to the two downed mechs in the brief respite. It's not hard to find them either, as the destroyed chassis have strewn parts and debris that give you a clear marker of where to find your fellow recruits.

Unfortunately, you don't have the time or ability to get them out of their trainers, so you settle for grabbing what's left of the body their encased within in one hand each.

"I've got the two pilots, time to go!"

Without bothering to look behind you, you sprint off towards the base. You have to be careful with where you go, as you don't want to accidentally crush the people you're supposed to be rescuing. Thankfully, your footing is as sure as ever, so you don't have any issue navigating the unstable terrain.

Bursting through the treeline, you immediately note a hastily constructed battle-line guarding this part of the perimeter. Thankfully, they don't immediately blow the shit out of you, and you're directed towards where the bases' medical and engineering team are ready to cut the downed pilots out of their destroyed mechs. The fact that the last two members of your squad aren't right behind you is concerning, but you have your own responsibility to attend to first.

Setting them down, you see two full sized combat mechs stomp off, your HUD identifying them as 'Woodsman' and 'Scarlet'. Looking to the side, you see a weapon's rack with what looks to be an unmodified version of your training rifle still there.

Now what?
> Grab the rifle and head after your instructors
> Grab the rifle and join the line
> Get out of your mech and go assist the medical team in triage
> Other

>>2406798
>> Get out of your mech and go assist the medical team in triage

>>2406798
>Get out of your mech and go assist the medical team in triage

>>2406798
call the other two on the comms. are they alright?

>>2406798
>> Grab the rifle and join the line

>>2406798
> Get out of your mech and go assist the medical team in triage

Rolled 18, 52, 54, 69, 32, 67, 63, 15, 42 = 412 (9d100)

>>2406846
>>2406814
>>2406805

Triage it is.

Writin'

Rolling to see how the fight is going...
1-3 ???, 4-6 Lowis and Scott, 7-9 Instructors

>>2406798

You want to go help your squad, but risking insubordination and getting a rocket to the face makes you comply with the engineer waving you to walk yourself into the factory.

Shutting the machine down, you ignore the instinct to go rest as you rush out of the building, still in your armor, and run over to where the medical team is working. What's left of the scorched and destroyed chassis are cut off by a few engineers and removed, revealing the pilots within.

Someone yells at you to hold an IV bag up while the first pilot is removed, quickly checking over the unconscious body for spinal injuries before lifting them up onto a stretcher. You don't get to see the status of the other, as you run with the medical team along the stretch towards the medbay.

Once inside, one of the medics takes the IV bag from you, places it upon a stand, and then ushers you over to an examination room. You're not too happy about the impromptu checkup, especially since you're stuck in there waiting for a few minutes after you get your armor off, but at least you're given the all clear eventually.

Armoring back up, you get outside just in time for the remainder of your squad and the instructors return. The good news is that all four of them appear to be walking under their own power, but that's about where it ends.

The trainers have clearly been mangled, their minimal armor almost entirely gone, and one has lost an entire arm. The instructors are little better, but their combat rated mechs withstood whatever punishment intact.

Snapping you out of your observations is the crackling of your radio, your drill Sargent's voice clearly sounding out even through the poor quality of your equipment, "All Pukes, report to the briefing room immediately".

Now what?
> Head to the briefing room
> Head to the factory, check on Lowis and Scott
> Head to the factory, check on the instructors
> Other

>>2407072
> Head to the briefing room
We follow orders. Never take initiative in basic

>>2407072
> Head to the briefing room

>>2407072
> Head to the briefing room
everyone is ok for the most part. we can deal with them later.

>>2407072
>> Head to the briefing room

>>2407072
>> Head to the briefing room

>>2407099
>>2407094
>>2407088
>>2407078
>>2407076

Briefing it is.

Writin'

>>2407072

You're concerned with how the others are doing, but if they're still walking then they're fine enough. Besides, whatever briefing this is about has to be something important; no reason to be late to it.

Heading over to the administrative buildings, you follow the other recruits to the briefing room, a number of which give you a few strange looks thanks to your armor. Sitting down alongside the other trainee pilots, you pull of your helmet and take the opportunity to let your hair down.

The fact that you're the only member of your squad that's in attendance is a bit cutting, but you'll just have to tell them what's going on later.

You don't wait long before the drill Sargent strides into the room, the idle chatter in the background immediately going silent at his presence other than the sound of all of you standing to attention. He doesn't start shouting, which is a bit concerning in and of itself, but the man just looks everyone over before talking.

"Listen up, pukes. Congratulations, you've all been promoted," That certainly wasn't what you were expecting, "If you're on PT currently, you'll be on the firing range tomorrow. If you're on the firing range currently, you'll be on the trainers tomorrow. And if you're on the trainers currently, head to the factory tomorrow. Other than that, training cycles will be continuing as usual aside from a few changes. One, no one leaves the base alone or unannounced. Two, everyone will be carrying while on base. Three, you'll be assigned a patrol and standby schedule, effective tomorrow. That's it, dismissed".

Without any other ceremony, the massive instructor leaves the room.

A few people are talk among themselves, but the majority of people are leaving the room for whatever else they were doing before the attack.

Now what?
> Head back to your rack and get sleep while you can
> Head over to the medbay and check on your squad
> See if you can catch up with Woodsman, ask him if he know the bandits that attacked you
> Go to the firing range, get some more practice in
> Other

>>2407258
>Head over to the medbay and check on your squad

>>2407258
> Head over to the medbay and check on your squad
At lest let them know the new orders

>>2407258
>> Head over to the medbay and check on your squad

>>2407258
>See if you can catch up with Woodsman, ask him if he know the bandits that attacked you

>>2407258
>> See if you can catch up with Woodsman, ask him if he know the bandits that attacked you

>>2407258
> Head over to the medbay and check on your squad

ehen he said tomorrow, did he mean after a full forty hour cycle or twenty four?

>>2407370
Guseing 40 hour

>>2407370
>>2407420

Since it's currently late night, I really should have said 'in the morning' instead of tomorrow.

>>2407323
>>2407282
>>2407265
>>2407264

Medbay it is.

Writin'

>>2407258

Clipping your helmet to your side, you walk back across the base to the medbay, practically right back to where you were before.

You're forced to wait, irritatingly, by a orderly when you ask her about seeing Lowis. Apparently the guy's recovering from treatment, something to do with taking shrapnel to his arm when his mech took a hit.

After a long, tedious hour of sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair and tapping your foot impatiently, you're finally allowed in.

The young man in question looks over at you as you walk in, smiling somewhat tiredly. He's a bit pale, but aside from the bandages that now wrap around his right arm it seems like he made it without a scratch.

"Lauren, you made it out without a problem, huh?"

Finding yet another metal chair, you sit down with a slight sigh before responding, "Can't say the same for everyone else".

"Scott's fine, and I asked about the condition of the others to which it sounds like they'll pull through, so don't worry about it," From the way his face scrunches up, you'd guess he wants to scratch his wounds but his better judgment is preventing that, "Why are you here, anyways? I'd have figured you'd be asleep already".

Your response?
> Ask Lowis what hurt him and Scott
> Ask Lowis how long he'll be out of action for
> Tell Lowis your new orders
> Say nothing, just relax
> Other

>>2407929
> Ask Lowis what hurt him and Scott
> Tell Lowis your new orders

>>2407929
> Tell Lowis your new orders

>>2407929
>> Tell Lowis your new orders

>>2407929
>"As if I could sleep soundly without knowing how you guys are."
>Ask Lowis how long he'll be out of action for
>Tell Lowis your new orders

>>2407929
> Ask Lowis what hurt him and Scott
> Tell Lowis your new orders

The fact that the DI didn't yell is worrisome. Some real shit went down.

>>2408081
>>2408071
>>2408045
>>2407963
>>2407953

Ask about the fight then tell him about new orders.

Writin'

>>2407929

"Even I'm not that cold," You look over Lowis with a neutral expression, trying not to get too aggravated at his words, "...What happened after I left?"

That gets a wince out of the injured man, "Well, our trick of firing blank rounds worked for a few seconds, until those bandits realized we were bullshitting them. Thankfully, they were only firing rifles at that point, but..."

Unconsciously, you lean forwards.

"They had a combat mech of their own, a slim one with a chain axe. Bastard was fast, and flat out cut one of my trainer's arms off with the rifle still in the grip. Thankfully, the instructors showed up before we got too damaged and managed to run it off".

Sitting back, you take a long breath in through your teeth. So, that's what the issue is...

"We've got new orders, probably thanks to that mech, which is why I'm here in the first place. There's a patrol and stand-by schedule on our rotation, though you won't be on that until you get released. We're also supposed to head over to the factory starting tomorrow, so we'll probably be getting some more combat-effective gear then".

"Yeah, that's to be expected," Leaning back, Lowis just looks up at the ceiling, "Thanks for telling me that, Lauren. Right now, though, I, and you for that matter, should get some rest. I'll talk to you when I get out of this damn hospital room".

"Later then," Standing up and stepping out of the room, you're escorted out of the medbay by one of the medics who lets you know that he'll be recovered enough for duty within a day or so.

Stepping out into the late, and thankfully quiet, night, you consider what to do now.
> Go find Woodsman, ask if he knows anything about those bandits
> Go to the firing range, get some more practice in
> Head to the barracks and get some sleep
> Other

>>2408351
>> Go find Woodsman, ask if he knows anything about those bandits

>>2408351
>Head to the barracks and get some sleep
As he said, we should get some rest.

>>2408351
>> Head to the barracks and get some sleep
Do we gain skill ups when we get a good nights sleep here too?

>>2408351
>Head to the barracks and get some sleep

>>2408478

Kind of. I'm going to try out a slightly different system due to the focus on mechs, but that will still be in place

>>2408478
>>2408396

Get some sleep it is.

And on that note, so do I. Tomorrow we'll be back to the usual time of 4:30 pm EST, see you then.

>>2408351
> Head to the barracks and get some sleep

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>2405245
Rawling

>>2409145
a little late?

>>2409157
Yeah forgot to update before hosting :'(

>>2408351

The morbid curiosity of finding your drill instructor and figuring out just who exactly ambushed your squad eats at you, but after thinking about it the prospect of going and bothering the man at... oh, 0140, really puts a damper on that.

So, with a bone-deep tiredness that you could have sworn wasn't there before, you drag yourself back to the barracks.

The majority of the bunks are already full when you arrive, but thankfully yours is still empty and, after carefully removing your armor, you sink blissfully into your meager cot.

You don't realize that you've slept for any amount of time until you wake up and blearily look at your clock, the damn thing dutifully reporting that it's 0620. Growling to yourself in aggravation, you push yourself away from the little rest you've managed to gather and get quickly cleaned up.

With a clean pair of fatigues on, you throw your piloting armor on as well; it wasn't exactly stated to be a requirement, but if they want you to be on alert you're going to need to have it on you anyways.

Clipping your helmet to your side, you consider what to do this morning.
> Go grab some food at the mess
> Maria and that other girl are out doing something, might as well see what they're up to
> Go to the factory, see what new gear you're getting assigned
> Other

>>2409958
>> Go grab some food at the mess

>>2409958
> Maria and that other girl are out doing something, might as well see what they're up to
> Go grab some food at the mess
> Go to the factory, see what new gear you're getting assigned
in descending order

>>2409958
>> Maria and that other girl are out doing something, might as well see what they're up to

>>2409958
>> Go grab some food at the mess

>>2409958
>> Maria and that other girl are out doing something, might as well see what they're up to

>>2409963
>>2409965
>>2409973
>>2409975
>>2410011

Grab the girls and go get food it is.

Writin'

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>>2409958

Looking off to the side, you see Maria and her dark-haired friend, or warden depending on what the catty gal was up to, standing around trying not to look too suspicious. The friend is doing a good job, but the other is peaking around a corner without any real degree of self-awareness.

Well, food always tastes better with other people; kind of. The slop they serve here can certainly use all the help it can get.

Walking over, you get close enough to hear the warden vaguely threatening her friend under her breath.

"-ria, I swear. Anyone so much as looks at us the wrong way you're on your own".

"Where's your sense of adventure, Sofia~? We've been doing nothing but boring stuf- Hey Lauren!"

Maria's suddenly in your face, which is damn near terrifying on its own, looking over your suit of armor with clear interest, "Ooh, ooh, look at you, strutting around like a regular pro! If only I had my camer-ah!"

"Sorry, again," The other girl, a bit shorter than her loud friend, pulls her into a light headlock, "I've been trying to keep her on a tighter leash now".

You just shrug, rolling your shoulders under your armor, "It's fine, I came over here anyways. Speaking of which, do you two want to go grab some breakfast?"

"But ther-"

"Yes," Her friend's expression goes cold, all the while tightening her grip, "We would love to; don't you agree, Maria?"

With the nosy girl pacified for the time being, the three of you walk over to the mess hall. The place is slowly filling up by a combination of other recruits and the more civilian population of the base.

After waiting in line for what can be charitably called food, you sit down and, upon hearing the noise it makes when you move it with your fork, decide to look for something else to do.

The two gals in front of you should help with that a bit.
> Ask this 'Sophia' what her name is, just for formalities sake
> Ask what the two of them were up to before
> Ask them how their training has been doing
> Ask them something else
> Just stay silent for now

>>2410091
>> Ask them how their training has been doing
The psych eval can't come fast enough

>>2410091
>> Ask this 'Sophia' what her name is, just for formalities sake
> Ask what the two of them were up to before

>>2410091
>Ask this 'Sophia' what her name is, just for formalities sake
> Ask them how their training has been doing

>>2410091
> Ask them how their training has been doing

>>2410091
>Ask this 'Sophia' what her name is, just for formalities sake
>Ask them how their training has been doing

>>2410097

Despite appearances, you're not really in the military. Otherwise, you'd have a point.

>>2410097
>>2410104
>>2410152
>>2410205
>>2410214

Ask for a name then ask about training.

Writin'

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>>2410091

"So," You've barely finished getting the first word out of your mouth when Maria snaps up from her food to look at you, "Maria and..."

The mystery girl catches on quick, favoring you with a smile that has a bit of a twisted hint to it, "Sophia. Always a pleasure to meet someone who's..." She flickers her gaze over towards the catty girl, "capable of independence".

"Always so cold and cutting, Sophia~. You should be more like Lauren here: cute and quiet~".

"Yeah yeah," Cutting her off before she can get any further down that line of thought, "How has training been for you two?"

"Slow, tedious, but necessary," Sophia glares at Maria, "We just managed to get up to the firing range, but with recent events it sounds like we'll be on trainers sooner than I thought. You however..."

She leans forwards, a predatory gleam in her eyes, "Word around base is that the factory's got a fresh stock of new mechs waiting for use, and that the current group on trainers are being given them to patrol the nearby area. Imagine my surprise when your name just happened to be on that list".

Backing away doesn't feel like it would do enough, so you just start hurriedly shoveling food into your mouth.

"And as a commemoration of our friendship, I'd just love to ask for a simple favor".

"I'd like one too~!"

You just stare at the two of them, who are both looking at you like a piece of meat. It's... frankly disturbing...

Now what?
> Tentatively ask what these 'favors' entail
> Try to change the subject
> Retreat
> Other

>>2410345
> Tentatively ask what these 'favors' entail

>>2410345
>> Other
>Stop looking at me like I'm a piece of meat and I'll consider it.

The fact they they want to ask us for favors means that we have the power here.

>>2410345
>> Tentatively ask what these 'favors' entail
We may be able to get some favors in return.

>>2410345
>Tentatively ask what these 'favors' entail
"You can /ask/. I reserve the right to say no."

>>2410345
>> Retreat
Fuck no

>>2410369
This

>>2410345
>> Other
>Stop looking at me like I'm a piece of meat and I'll consider it.

>>2410449
>>2410377
>>2410373
>>2410369
>>2410365
>>2410362
>>2410359

That's a maybe.

Writin'

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>>2410345

Raising up your plate of 'food' in what's definitely not a defensive manner, you stare at the two evenly, "You can ask, but that doesn't mean I'll say yes. And for fucks sake, stop looking at me like that".

Sophia leans back in her seat, looking distinctly smug for some reason, "At 3500 tonight, there's going to be a dead drop coming down within your patrol route. All you have to do is deviate about two kilometer from there, pick up a small crate without crushing it, and drop it off at a designated spot just outside the base's perimeter. Nice and easy; you'll have the GPS coordinates uploaded to your mech before you head out and the guards on that side of the wall know what you'll be doing when you drop it off".

You just stare at the dark-haired girl, not really sure how to process what she just said. Instead, you just look over to Maria.

"My favor will come up after you get that crate~," Raising a hand, it looks like she's trying to whisper conspiratorially towards you even though she doesn't actually lower her voice, "See, in that crate is some camera equipment that I'll be putting together. Once I do, I'll need you to run them out and set them up while you're on patrol. I can't wait! With it, I can get some really, really good shots with that stuff and, with some luck, I can get shots of those bandits if they're still out there~".

Pushing the catty girl back into her seat, you put down what's left of your 'food' and consider your options. On one hand, getting those cameras out might actually give you some kind of recon presence without waiting for whatever Woodsman has planned. On the other, if he finds out there's no way in hell he wouldn't send your ass straight back down to the bottom rung.

Then again...

A 'polite' cough, drags your attention back to where Sophia is barely containing a grin at you. Yeah, she wants a response.

Your response?
> Agree, you'll do it but they'll both owe you big
> Disagree, you can't risk it
> Ask why they haven't brought this up to Woodsman, he'll probably agree with getting some kind of forwards recon presence in the immediate future
> Other

>>2410588
> Ask why they haven't brought this up to Woodsman, he'll probably agree with getting some kind of forwards recon presence in the immediate future

>>2410588
>> Ask why they haven't brought this up to Woodsman, he'll probably agree with getting some kind of forwards recon presence in the immediate future

>>2410588
>Ask why they haven't brought this up to Woodsman, he'll probably agree with getting some kind of forwards recon presence in the immediate future
That said, I'm inclined to disagree. There's no way cameras physically left there won't get found eventually, and there's no guarantee that the transmitted feeds won't get intercepted by the bandits and used against us.

>>2410588
>> Ask why they haven't brought this up to Woodsman, he'll probably agree with getting some kind of forwards recon presence in the immediate future

>>2410593
>>2410594
>>2410601
>>2410604

Have you tried being official about this?

Writin'

>>2410588

"Why haven't you asked Woodsman about this?" Looking between the two, you can't help but ask the very obvious question here, "I know how the guy looks, but I don't think he's a stuck up idiot".

"Who?" Maria tilts her head questioningly, and you can tell Sophia is similarly confused.

"Woodsman... You know, our drill Sargent? Big guy, yells at us all the time?"

"Right, him," The smug girl nods sagely, like she didn't just have no idea what you were talking about, "Well, I wouldn't mind you talking to him about the cameras, but for the shipment itself..."

"It's got contraband, is what you mean," Sighing to yourself, you finish up what's on your plate, "Don't act so surprised, I grew up on a station".

Sophia just smiles at you, not at all taken aback by your words. It's a bit infuriating, "Then you should understand the good a healthy... secondary economy does in these kinds of areas. All I ask is that you keep quiet about this, whether you do it or not. Now, Maria, I believe we have training shortly. I hope for a positive response, Lauren, but goodbye for now".

With one last pair of smiles, you're left alone at the table. Grumbling, you set away your metal tray and leave the mess hall.

Now what?
> Go to the administration buildings, you should talk to Woodsman
> Go to the firing range, you need to keep sharp
> Go the factory, you need to get acquainted with your new gear
> Other

>>2410651
>Go the factory, you need to get acquainted with your new gear

>>2410651
> Go the factory, you need to get acquainted with your new gear

>>2410663
>>2410662

New stuff it is.

Writin'

Alright, I have no idea how I did that give me a minute.

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>>2410651 (You)

Continuing on your way, you head towards the armored factory. The place has a few people running around, mostly the engineers, and when you get close enough the reason becomes extremely apparent.

The telltale sounds of fabricators and assemblers working their magic of turning raw materials into weapons of war are in full effect now, the walls of the place practically humming with activity as you enter and go to the same open bay you received your trainer in.

Within are several engineers who are hard at work, one of them approaching you and taking your name down on a PDA before point you towards one of several combat mechs in the middle of being prepared.

Arriving at what's evidently going to be your ride for the foreseeable future, you can't help but look up at it with a bit of awe. The mech stands at just under two stories tall, the semi-blocky chassis giving you the impression of a middle of the road in terms of armor versus mobility, while the battle rifle, of which is easily longer than you are tall, gives no qualms about what this machine is meant to do.

This is truly a weapon of war, designed for front-line combat.

"It's quite the experience, when you realize what's in front of you is yours".

Spinning on your heel, your eyes widen slightly at the sight of Woodsman standing directly next to you.

He doesn't exactly react when you immediately snap to attention, but within a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, "At ease; boot camp's pretty much over now".

Awkwardly, you lower your hand and turn back to look up at your mech. Neither of you say anything for almost a minute; you've no idea what's going through his mind, but curiosity is burning away at you.

Now what?
> Ask him what he meant by boot camp being over
> Ask him if he knows about that mysterious mech
> Ask him if he'd be interested in a strange kind of recon request
> Ask him something else
> Just stay silent for now

>>2410815
>> Ask him if he'd be interested in a strange kind of recon request

>>2410815
>> Ask him if he knows about that mysterious mech

segue into

>> Ask him if he'd be interested in a strange kind of recon request

>>2410815
>Ask him if he knows about that mysterious mech
Get a feel for him before asking for something outside of protocol.

>>2410815
>Ask him what he meant by boot camp being over

>>2410815
>Ask him if he knows about that mysterious mech

>>2410815
>> Ask him if he'd be interested in a strange kind of recon request

>>2410815
>Ask him if he knows about that mysterious mech

>>2410815
>> Ask him if he knows about that mysterious mech

>>2410815
> Ask him if he'd be interested in a strange kind of recon request

Sorry about that folks, I passed out right after I finished up that post last night. Back now.

>>2411584
>>2411567
>>2410960
>>2410940
>>2410904
>>2410902
>>2410844
>>2410825
>>2410822

Ask about that mech then segue into the recon request.

Writin'

>>2410815

The towering mech over you reminds you of part of what Lowis mentioned to you, and as such you voice your curiosity, "Sir, a question if I may?"

A nod is all you get.

"I spoke to my squad lead, Lowis, last night after all that had happened, and he mentioned a unknown mech with an axe that attacked you all after I had left. Would... would you happen to know anything about that mech?" You want to know more, mostly where the bandits came from and how many pieces they'd like to die in, but for now this is the biggest question on your mind.

Woodsman doesn't say anything at first, clearly collecting himself before he response, "Horizon VII is a large planet, with no real government aside from one exception and is mostly run by whatever corporation is active in that specific area. As such, people disappear all the time, whether it's due to failed 'retirements' or something else, and there's no shortage of holes to vanish down. It's why I'm not surprised about the bandits on foot. The mech on the other hand..."

He turns and looks down at you, a pair of cold, steely eyes unflinchingly boring into yours, "A combat mech requires support; engineers, infrastructure to supply power and parts, and proper training for the pilot. You're a smart girl, I don't believe I need to explain any further about why this is an issue".

You just nod, a bit numbly as the implications hit you.

"Good; now, get some practice in with your new mech. We're going to need every combat capable pilot we can out of you all. Consider this a final order," With that, Woodsman turns on his heel and begins walking out of the factory.

"Sir!" Dancing between your two choices, you're already speaking up before you can properly decide. As such, your drill Sargent looks at you with a raised eyebrow for several seconds before you get your thoughts in order, "Sir, I know you're already working on locating the bandits, but I overheard other recruits working on a kind of autonomous reconnaissance system. Would you mind if I assisted them in their project?"

Stopping in place, there's a heart stopping moment when those cold eyes return to you and you can't help but feel like you're completely transparent. Pulse thundering through your ears, the pressure you barely notice until it's almost painful suddenly ends when the man turns back around.

"...When you have something of more substance, bring it to my attention".

And with that, he's gone.

Releasing a ragged breath, you wipe several drops of sweat away from your brow. The shit you put up with...

Looking back up at your mech, you hope to find some sort of comfort while piloting the two story tall pile of steel and death.

Now what?
> Time to practice; you were ordered
> Go find an engineer to give you a rundown on the 'bot
> Leave the factory, go somewhere else (where?)
> Other

>>2411890
> Time to practice; you were ordered.

Unless 'go find an engineer' is to give us details about the mech that were supposed to be in, then go do that first.

>>2411890
>Go find an engineer to give you a rundown on the 'bot
No one operates on machinery without first understanding at least some of its workings. No one competent, anyway.

>"...When you have something of more substance, bring it to my attention".
Well, that sounds like tacit permission to me.

>>2411890
>> Go find an engineer to give you a rundown on the 'bot