Bay 12 Games Forum

Quote from: Dampe on July 28, 2015, 11:53:53 am

"No. Did you not just see Instructor Never-Ask wash out a hundred recruits for getting shot down in the flight sim?"

"But that's like a fifth of the people who came here," Britta says, her voice growing quieter. "Did they ship them all this way just to make a point?"

That wasn't her only question that this practice raised, but the others were even less wise to speak of.

One girl laughed. "Welcome to the Star Force. Everything we do is to make a point."

"There's a bunch less people now," Britta notes as she joins her peers, speaking to a couple of the other recruits. "Do they have a different assignment?"

"No. Did you not just see Instructor Never-Ask wash out a hundred recruits for getting shot down in the flight sim?"

Geez, slow down, man. Let the others get a post in there somewhere.

Yeah, sorry. This is the first stage of training, and nothing the characters do here will have any significant impact, so I figured it'd be best to keep things moving. Your call.

Was there a roll for this, perhaps? Then again, it did last, like, 5 minutes, so I guess even being a little late would be a bit too late to take part. Seems appropriate enough, anyway.

No rolls yet. You do gain familiarity with the station that the other three characters won't have, and that may come in handy later.

As Candace wandered the halls, she suddenly realized she was late for the simulator.
Sprinting down towards where the arrows labeled "Simulator Room" led, she ran directly into an instructor running the other way, knocking both of them to the ground.

"S-sorry, sir!" She stammered, as the man stood up and dusted himself off. "Don't worry about it. Late for the simulator?" He asked. "Yeah, I was taking a look around the facility." The man smiled at this. "I understand. I'm Junior Instructor Vanhorn, by the way. Here, you've already missed the simulator, but don't worry about it. I'm heading down to the mess to give out class assignments. Why don't you come with me?"

((And no, Mr. Baldman, you have not. ))

Aboard the USSF Academy
Unknown Star Sector
Thursday, May 1, 2358
10:30 Hours

Some of the recruits fidgeted in the VR helmets shaped like glossy black teardrops. Each recruit sat at a console, with a flight stick in front of them. Instructor Nevarez's voice spoke directly into the earpieces of each recruit's helmet. "In a moment, the simulator will begin. Your only objective is to survive, and destroy as many opposing starfighters as possible. Begin." Inside the VR helmets, recruits were thrown into a frantic free-for-all against each other, as the inky blackness of the simulated vacuum was shattered by laser fire. The number of functioning starfighters dwindled to about 400 in five minutes, when Nevarez shut off the simulator. "Helmets off, everyone." Recruits scanned the circular room, looking for Nevarez. He stood in the center, and began to speak. "Anyone whose starfighter was destroyed, stand up now." About ninety sheepish recruits stood up next to their seats. "You are relieved from further duty on this station. Gather your belongings and prepare to depart. The shuttle leaves at 13:00." A stunned silence came over the room. It was only the first day, and already nearly one hundred recruits had washed out. "To the rest of you, congratulations. You managed to survive. Now, report to Instructor Vanhorn in the mess to receive your class assignments. Dismissed."

Aboard the USSF Academy
Unknown Star Sector
Thursday, May 1, 2358
09:00 Hours

The auditorium was packed with new recruits. At the front of the room, a clean-cut man in an officer's uniform approached the podium. "Atench-hut!" The recruits stood to attention. "At ease. My name is Chief Instructor Gino Nevarez, and I've been flying starfighters since every single of you was nothing more than a wet dream! I am here to make you proud officers of the United States Star Force. Well, some of you, that is. Less than five percent of you have what it takes. The rest of you are worthless to me. Over the next five weeks, I will determine who among you has the "right stuff." Each pilot successfully trained is worth millions of credits to the USSF, and they goddamn ought to be. You'll be learning how to fly a starfighter at speeds upwards of 20,000 miles per hour. Not just anyone can do that. I am strict, and I am unfair. Over the next few weeks, you will no doubt come to resent me and the other instructors. We do not care. What's important is that you listen to everything we say. Is that understood?" The audience shouted in unison, "Sir, yes, sir!" Nevarez grinned like a fox left to guard the henhouse. "Drop your duffels at your assigned bunks and report to the simulator room at 10:30. Dismissed."

Plus, planes aren't foreign technology. The Great War is on its last legs, it definitely wouldn't be too outlandish to make an armed recon plane.

R-1 Hawk: A simple, wood-and-canvas biplane for reconnaissance. Armed with two forward-facing Brumby LMGs, and seats two. The pilot sits in front, while the observer sits behind him. The observer can navigate, make observations, and use a radio installed in between the two.

+1