2/3 Tavern 2014/07/21(Mon)21:24 No. 585237 ID: 189a54
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Joining the Demis was the path a lot of my friends had talked about taking if a drafting force ever came to our planet. I could understand that--the Demis were a hard bunch, and to be a part of that would be a real honor.

The nation's ground force, Demis excelled in all sorts of tactics, from small squad combat to large-scale maneuvers and strategies. Their gear was all top-of-the-line stuff, Lamines-grade armor from some of the rim worlds and advanced assault weaponry from near the Core. When all this was paired with just an extensive arsenal of heavy vehicles and artillery pieces one had a dangerous army. But when the sheer size of the group was added into the mix, one found themselves with a killing machine, the scope of which was superior to almost every other military body out there.

But, I remembered, with every huge statistic I'd read about the Demis a huge number of casualties had followed...

3/3 Tavern 2014/07/22(Tue)04:27 No. 585296 ID: 189a54
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The other option was service in the Angel Fleet. While not as popular an option as becoming a badass Demi, Fleet work was an equally crucial part of the war effort.

The job of Fleet hand varied greatly depending on aptitude. From the same assessment group there could be someone moving on to officer training, another several going to receive instructions on how to man our nation's legendary Poly-class cruisers, and yet another number of people moving on to become part of a squadron of Knife-class fighter ships. While not quite as densely populated as the Demis, when fighters were being drawn from entire planets' worth of people, the end result was still an enormous force, and one with a slightly better survivability chance.

Still, in every propaganda video I'd seen of our heroic Fleet there'd been a good number of Fleet hands and pilots shown whose ships were suddenly turned into their fiery coffins.

In the end, I couldn't decide by myself. I let the memory of my grandfather be my guide, and just like him I decided on....

Angel Fleet~

Go the jarhead route, Demis

1/2 Tavern 2014/07/23(Wed)12:03 No. 585514 ID: 189a54
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Like my grandfather, I decided on the Angel Fleet. And also like my grandfather, I had to spend the next five minutes trying to get the loadmaster to understand my request through my garbled Standard. It took some doing, but after a few dozen repititions of "I warnt toe joen the Ahrngeels" and some waving of the Angel Fleet poster the man understood me and directed me to the right transport.

2/2 Tavern 2014/07/23(Wed)12:26 No. 585522 ID: 189a54
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The small ship was surprisingly empty and horribly run-down. The patchwork on the walls didn't look stable in the slightest, and all of the metal looked like it had been used for fifty years without repairs. I quickly put on one of the shirts I saw sitting in a corner--the one heater in the cargo area didn't look like it could heat a tin can anymore, much less half of a transport.

Before taking off the pilots gave me and the one other passenger a heavy touchpad each. It looked like they wanted us to take the aptitude test right away. Breezing through the simple demographic things, I looked to the main questions. Surprisingly, there were only four of them.

1. When faced with a problem, I...
A) Ask for help with it
B) Figure it out on my own
C) Wait for someone else to solve it

2. I've been offered a huge gift. I...
A) Enjoy it on my own
B) Share it with my friends
C) Turn it down, I don't deserve it

3. War is...
A) Pointless
B) Essential
C) OTHER: ________

4. In this force my life is...
A) Pointless
B) Essential
C) OTHER: ________

What? This was the whole aptitude test, the document that would determine where everyone went in the Fleet? I was confused, but I still filled it out to the best of my ability...

>>585522
A,B,C(inevitable),C(beginning)

>>585541
Those are some pretty damn good answers. They make me think of someone who shares the good and the bad with the people around them.
In other words; a straight shooter with upper management written all over him.

B B C (Ugly, But Sometimes necessary) C (negligible)