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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby mat.gopack » 09 Oct 2014, 14:12

Oh wow, their cockroach flag says that they're stable and trustworthy! Guess it's true then! :D
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby jonisilk » 09 Oct 2014, 16:08

Cadet Ellison looked across at his fellow Martian cadets. They were a little older than he, but it was him eyeing them up, trying to figure out what their strengths might be and where their weak spots were. He may be smaller and younger than most others around him, but he knew he was here on merit and he was not intimidated by any of them.

Over the coming months he would consistently be among the first to ask questions, to volunteer, to do all he needed to in order to take the most away from this experience.

His grandfather had been a founding member of the PCG and a respected businessman. His father had also been leader of men, heading up one of the most dynamic and profitable of private medical practices on Mars. He had grown up watching them, studying them and the way they applied themselves to their roles.

His grandfather had led from the front, always putting himself out there to be seen by those who worked under him. It inspired confidence and faith in his ability. From his father he had learnt the value of bestowing praise, finding a reason to congratulate and further encourage those under his tutelage, even if they got something wrong. It inspired loyalty and respect from those he employed.

Finally, he had learnt from Master Teller June Unurka, the honoured council of the governing body, that failure was not desirable, but neither should it be feared, rather, it should be embraced - if we always succeed, then what do we ever truly learn about anything, least of all ourselves?

The Cadet knew this much to be true. When he had first played chess, losing was the first thing he learnt. He had asked a friend of his fathers to teach him the game and was mercilessly picked apart by a very experienced player. He had instantly set the board up again for a second game, and lost again, but it was a closer game. He lost his third, fourth and fifth games too, but the sixth was a stalemate. He won his seventh game and in the weeks that followed his game went from strength to strength.

Over the months that followed, his reputation grew - he began playing multiple games in public and some of the best players in the region would come to play the child prodigy. They would lose, they all did, even the grandmasters who came from far and wide, putting their own reputations on the line in doing so.

He was 12, but he hadn’t lost a game of chess in 5 years. All those victories, some of them rather famous and he had lost count of them all. The only number he knew was the number of games he had lost, but if he’d never lost them in the first place, then what would he ever have learnt?

Mistakes have to be made to learn effectively from them. This place, here and now, would be the place for those mistakes - and better here than in actual battle.

Always make yourself visible and available, nurture the loyalty and respect of those under your command, take ownership of their mistakes as your own and allow yourself to make your own mistakes, but never the same one twice. These were the tenants he would live by in these coming months, and they would serve him well.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby jonisilk » 09 Oct 2014, 19:32

Cadet Andar Reelman, was fifteen. He had spent the last 7 years engaged in tactical gameplay across a variety of mediums and had heard much about the young cadet beside him - a tactical genius, unrelenting and ruthlessly effective, his style was to work an immediate advantage and wear the opposition down from his position - but in his cadet uniform, puffing out his chest to make himself look bigger, he looked like a kid playing at being a soldier, not a tactical genius.

If he were in Ellison’s position, Ander would use that to his advantage - Let the opponent underestimate you, then catch him off-guard with a counter that plays to your hidden strengths. He looked the young cadet up and down again. It would be an interesting clash of styles if they were to face-off against each other, he thought to himself.

Anders’ tactical style was counter-offensive, developed as the quality of opposition had increased over the years, along with his own reputation as a formidable opponent in any sphere of tactical simulations.

He’d even earned himself a little money on the side, getting friends to place bets on himself to take home first prize at a string of tactical conventions and competitions in the last year. He had done well out of it too, though it certainly didn’t end well - his citizenship application was halted when the truth came out.

He’d been ready to accept that perhaps he wouldn’t make citizenship and was considering the possibility of becoming an off-world strategist in a foreign military, when he’d been called to appear before the governing body.

They had grilled him on his gambling activities (he admitted to the charges of gambling underage, but maintained that the bets were a reflection of the confidence he possessed in his own ability, placing bets only on himself and not looking to profit from bets made on, or against, other competitors), then set a series of tasks and questions - all of which he found much easier than the grilling he had initially received - before being asked to wait outside while they conferred.

He had known nothing about the academy - the fact that there were Martians here at all was not a secret as such, but it also wasn’t public knowledge. It was his reputation as a superior tactician that had earned him this reprieve and had convinced the governing body to overlook his recent actions and provide him with an opportunity to prove himself worthy of citizenship. This was has last chance and he knew it.

If it hadn’t been his last chance, he would have already slipped into an off-limits area when he noticed a brief window of opportunity in the guard change-over.

However, if the opportunity continued to present itself and risk of being caught could be sufficiently mitigated, then he still might attempt to do just that.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby Subotai45 » 09 Oct 2014, 23:06

mat.gopack wrote:Oh wow, their cockroach flag says that they're stable and trustworthy! Guess it's true then! :D


Of course it's the truth. Because we're trustworthy. The flag says so, doesn't it?
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby chrisman39 » 10 Oct 2014, 01:31

Subotai45 wrote:
mat.gopack wrote:Oh wow, their cockroach flag says that they're stable and trustworthy! Guess it's true then! :D


Of course it's the truth. Because we're trustworthy. The flag says so, doesn't it?

And nobody can lie on the internet flags.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby Subotai45 » 10 Oct 2014, 03:54

Manuel Benavidez was born in the city of Mendoza, for a century the great citadel that held the western frontier against the enemies of Argentina, be it New Hope or Pallas. Miguel was born in the first few years after the unification of Venus, and has never known a time when Venus was not at peace. This put him at odds with his parents, who had remembered clearly the threat of war with an increasingly powerful New Hope, and his grandparents, who remembered the threat of absurdly large Pallisian armies pouring over the border and lived through no less than four independent Argentine governments. But Miguel has never had cause to fear another Venusian. There are no memories of war and fear to cloud his loyalty to the new nation, and is thus the paragon of what the Republic of Venus hopes its children will believe.

Miguel attended the Mitre Memorial High School, named in honor of a general of the 20 Day War. While there, he set himself apart from his classmates with diligent study and hard work. Although not an idiot by any means, he was never a particularly bright student. However, Miguel was exceptionally gifted at leadership. Throwing himself into the Tankery Leagues, he managed to get himself admitted as captain of the team. He realized that training would be the key to the team's success, so he outfitted some practice tanks out of pieces of scrap. The team, inspired by his example, spent hours more than any other team, practicing on "Miguel's Monsters". When the tournament came around, the Mitre High School Avengers destroyed the competition. The disorganized enemy teams weren't prepared for the Miguel-trained team, which acted more like the limbs of an animal than people, with separate minds.

His talents recognized by a military officer there to watch a son on the opposing team, Miguel was enrolled in a leadership program sponsored by the RoV. "Miguel's Monsters" were noticed, and they put him into the engineering program, discovering a surprising aptitude for innovation. After finishing out his high school years, he was chosen to be only one of seventy-five sent to the Venusian Space Academy.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby narwhalwarlord » 10 Oct 2014, 04:05

"The Academy", he'd said, "is not for the average. It's for the exceptional." At the point when Wilhelm von Nar had heard those words issue from the mouth of his Scouts instructor, he knew that he was on an entirely new level of doomed. Not just slightly doomed, or even I-didn't-finish-my-assignment-doomed, but the special Grecian heroic type of doomed where you know your fate and there's nothing to be done about it. After all, being the only direct descendant of the Von Nar line within the age bracket inherently meant that he'd be strapped into the shuttle and turned into the banner-carrier for Venusian national aspirations. planetary pride, and republican ideals. He'd be expected to beat not only the Martians, but also all Earthers and even Argentines. He was, in short, expected to be the best.

But how? He was barely getting above a 75% in grade 8 math, and was expected to compete across the board with a huge station full of military brats, tactical geniuses, polymaths, and assorted specially talented kids with huge brains and massive actual potential in life. Nationalism, he decided, was a terrible thing.

It didn't really help that Section 2 had thoroughly penetrated the station beforehand and liberally seeded the place with agents. Knowing the spooks, he was probably being watched from all angles. And he'd heard rumors from some family friends that they'd even infiltrated him some kind of bodyguard among the student populace.

So here he was, the 14-year-old blonde kid with little exceptional talent, expected to promote the nation, create massive pride, and at the same time accept the fact that at least one member of the student populace was some kind of psychopathic yandere bodyguard with more pseudo-legal gene mods than brain cells. And that he or she was probably going to stalk him. Absolutely lovely.

He sighed, brushed his bangs away from his eyes, and scanned the room, before noticing a large clump of Martians. Two of them looked particularly threatening. In all likelihood, they'd been planted by their government with the exclusive purpose of humiliating Venus on its own turf. Lovely. He could already feel their desire to murder him. No, actually, that wouldn't be bad. It was worse. They'd probably try to humiliate him. Horror of horrors. If they tried to kill him, at least Section 2 would have the courtesy to stop it.

Oh, if only secret agents could intervene and just make everyone better than him disappear. Would it be that hard? That painful? They could all just have painful accidents, or be sent home, or-

"Dismissed!"

Snapped back to reality, Wilhelm executed a vaguely sloppy salute, picked up his bag, and made a beeline for the exit. Suddenly, he smiled slightly. Because he realized that he had an edge.

First, he had loyalty. Even with all the disadvantages, being the Planetary Poster Boy was definitely going to help him pick up women, not to mention smooth over most social issues he might otherwise have. In a pool of individuals who didn't know each other, they'd definitely gravitate towards the one with the celebrity pedigree. He did have talent in using that. Nobody - nobody - matched him in the area of base, venal, and petty manipulations of adoring fans. It was the one trick he'd really mastered, and in this new area he'd use it.

Second, he had one of the finest sets of gene-mods that could be accrued anywhere short of the Presidential Guard. He could, in a pinch, reveal them and outrun, outfight, and out-think anyone. Many of the upgrades he'd been granted were technically state secrets, leaving him with a huge advantage over his foes. Although he wasn't a genius, on average his mods left him around the same level as most of his opponents, considered geniuses in their homelands.

Yes, he could feel a strategy coming on. That would work. Make the extraordinary ones feel normal, build a following, rule the school, and try not to provoke any fights. He knew Section 2's attitudes towards harm of protected individuals. Any short brawl would turn into a bloodbath within moments if his friendly guard decided to step in. And diplomatic incidents were not good things for his potentially bright future on the station.

He, Wilhelm von Nar, would defeat all comers with naught but mediocrity, his name, and some quick thinking.

It would be a good year.

........

"Is that... OHMIGODIT'SVONNAR!"

Excitedly, the short, bubbly girl bounced on her feet as she walked backwards along with the crowd, attempting to catch glimpses of her idol through the crowds. She just HAD to see him! Had to! Had to! HAD TO!

For a moment, the crowds parted and she caught a glimpse of her hero, already accruing a crowd of admirers simply by existing. So.... COOL!

For a moment, the world flickered.

+Asset. Mission stratum primary unlocked - personnel protection. Principal is Wilhelm von Nar. Full force access enabled.+

With that, it returned to normal. The girl giggled again, did a pirouette, and landed facing the other direction. She began purposefully marching along the flow of girls. She just HAD to meet him.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby musashisamurai » 10 Oct 2014, 16:03

""Earthers""

I thought we were Terrans?

Anyways, OSC* ftw.

*Officer Candidate School. Boot camp squared plus books, only for soldiers/sailors who have done at least 1 (technically 1.5 if you add the 6 months of boot camp, and longer if they went to a specialty school) year of service and were recommended by their officers, also OCS grads. Also includes time spent as a third lieutenant under at least two different officers, usually in separate branches., Each of them, as well as any sergeant in OCS, can send any ensign back to his earlier branch whenever)
¸,,¸_____}\,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,...,,,,,,
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The simulacrum is never that which conceals the truth-it is the truth which conceals that there is none. The simulacrum is true.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby jonisilk » 11 Oct 2014, 15:04

Ander sat there, watching the young cadet play, dispatching challengers across three games of chess simultaneously. It was a nice little exhibition against some reasonable opposition, but the kid was cocky and too sure of himself. He was toying with his opposition, making this more of an exhibition than it should be.

A spot opened up as he dispatched yet another. Ander stepped forward and began resetting the pieces, then they began to play - Ander set up defensively, awaiting the inevitable assault. When it came it was ferocious and clinical, decimating Ander down the right hand side of the board, but with his attention focused on two other players and clearly showboating, he didn't see Ander's real play coming.

After closing off a possible line of check, his next move was to castle into the left corner. With his king securely defended and his opponents offence now out of place, Ander was able to smash through the opposite flank, sacrificing his own queen to take out the knight that anchored the young cadets defence.

There was a gasp of shock as the watching crowd realised what had just happened. The young cadet, looked up at Ander and rose from his seat. Ander did likewise, towering over the child genius who was now extending his hand toward the first person to best him in five years.

"Thank you", said the young cadet, smiling at Ander as he did so. Ander took his hand and they shook. Ander was impressed with how well the young cadet took his defeat. He hadn't expected such a measured and mature response from one so young - there was clearly something different about this kid. If nothing else, he would be worth keeping an eye on.
Last edited by jonisilk on 11 Oct 2014, 16:01, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Republic of Venus

Postby jonisilk » 11 Oct 2014, 15:45

"However good you might think you are, know that there's always someone else out there who is better than you". He'd first heard the words from an ungracious opponent he had beaten a few years back and had set himself out to prove the assertion wrong and for a long time had succeeded in doing just that, but now the words were repeating over and over in his head and had been since the older cadet had beaten him.

He knew what he'd done wrong and he'd recognised it was his own showmanship that his opponent had exploited. What had impressed him most was the way the older cadet had disguised his intentions and the speed at which he countered. He looked up the cadets name - Ander Reelman - and saw in impressive record of competitive tactical simulation victories on multiple platforms (in fact, he'd been the Universal Military Simulations Champion in three of the last four years).

Perhaps he'd finally met his match? His equal at least. His thoughts then turned to a possible rematch. Once could be a fluke, but he couldn't possibly lose twice, could he? Given what he now knew of his opponent, it was the first time in a long time that he had reason to doubt himself. He didn't enjoy the feeling.
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