HOW TO TURN A PROFIT OUT OF CRISIS: A SF FRONTIER ADMIRAL QUEST
- Thread starter Laplace
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- boundless optimism
You've tied between Das Vogelfrei and Schrodinger's Cat Space Marines. Since it was Christmas only recently and the spirit of giving is upon me I'm gonna use both.
10 people voted for space marines, 9 voted for super space fighter as while the main vote is tied at 7 there were two variants at 3 and 2 votes respectively
Tiebreaker Vote
- Location
- boundless optimism
Ah, so it is. Gotta remember to look more closely, thanks for the save. Yeah, tiebreaker vote. Closing in two hours as of this post.
[]- MERCENARY: YOU ARE AWARE OF THE COST BENEFIT ANALYSIS OF BEING A FRONTIER ADMIRAL VS *CIVVIE STREET.* AS A RANKING OFFICER OF THE EMPIRE YOU ARE ENTITLED TO A PENSION AND INDEPENDANT COMMAND OF A MILITARY FLEET. BLOODLESS LIZARD BANKERS AND OTHER OLIGARCHAL FORMS OF PARASITE MAY MAKE MORE THAN YOU BUT HOW MANY DIVISIONS DO THEY COMMAND? ZERO. YOU COMMAND FIFTY, AND WILL GLADLY REMIND THE BASTARDS IN CHARGE OF THAT WHEN THEY THINK ABOUT CUTTING PENSIONS THIS FISCAL YEAR AGAIN.
[]- WARMONGER: GOSH BUT YOU LOVE WAR. YOU LOVE WAR IN THE VOID, WAR IN THE ATMOSPHERE, AND WAR ON THE GROUND. YOU LOVE WAR IN ALL ITS FORMS AND CONSIDER THE WORDS *PEACE TALKS* AND *MAYBE WE SHOULD PUT SOME MILITARY MONEY TO HELPING ORPHANS* TO BE DEEPLY OFFENSIVE, ON PAR WITH VARIOUS FORMS OF RACIAL SLURS. YOU ARE A *POPULAR PERSONALITY* ON THE LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW WHERE YOU IMPLY THAT 'THEY' ARE COMING FOR THE EMPIRE. WHO 'THEY' ARE IS CONTINGENT ON HOW MUCH SPONSORSHIP MONEY YOU RECEIVE.
Lookashiny
First and Only
- Location
- Tanith
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]- MERCENARY: YOU ARE AWARE OF THE COST BENEFIT ANALYSIS OF BEING A FRONTIER ADMIRAL VS *CIVVIE STREET.* AS A RANKING OFFICER OF THE EMPIRE YOU ARE ENTITLED TO A PENSION AND INDEPENDANT COMMAND OF A MILITARY FLEET. BLOODLESS LIZARD BANKERS AND OTHER OLIGARCHAL FORMS OF PARASITE MAY MAKE MORE THAN YOU BUT HOW MANY DIVISIONS DO THEY COMMAND? ZERO. YOU COMMAND FIFTY, AND WILL GLADLY REMIND THE BASTARDS IN CHARGE OF THAT WHEN THEY THINK ABOUT CUTTING PENSIONS THIS FISCAL YEAR AGAIN.
grimely
Twink Death Sufferer
pls, we could've had both ;_;
[X]- WARMONGER
no because by god we are going to do this by the books
- Location
- the Republic
- Pronouns
- He/They
[X]- MERCENARY
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X]- MERCENARY
- Location
- USA
[x]- WARMONGER
"My friends. It has often been said that I like war. My friends, I like war. ...No, friends. I. LOVE. WAR."
"My friends. It has often been said that I like war. My friends, I like war. ...No, friends. I. LOVE. WAR."
- Location
- boundless optimism
Aaand calling it for Merc.
- Location
- Malaysia
[X]- WARMONGER
[X]- WARMONGER
just found this quest, wish there was more time.
just found this quest, wish there was more time.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
Guys, the QM very clearly said the vote was called.
Still, I find it unfair that the tiebreaker vote was only 2 hours long.
Also some of the people who voted already, voted again yet they are counted I am confused?
edit: if the tiebreaker vote was for newer people voting then 1 of the vote for Warmonger shouldn't be counted and 4 of the Mercenary votes shouldn't be counted.
people who voted twice:
Warmonger:
Neodymium,
Mercenary:
Etranger,MrRageQuit, grimely, Lonosic
With that said wouldn't that mean the votes are 11 warmonger and 11 mercenary so its a tie again since before the tiebreaker vote warmonger had 10 votes while mercenary had 9???
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UPDATE TWO: ONE HUNDRED BATTLESHIPS WAITING IN LINE AT THE DMV
- Location
- boundless optimism
"-Luca, you take one of the divisions, head back to Port Calaay." Port Calaay is a hollowed out planetoid that also has the closest representative of the Empire's administrative mechanisms, aside from you. Except that Port Comptroller Khoulin actually has control over your budget-- you don't. Because if you had the authority to budget yourself money you'd turn your Front into even more of a petty kingdom and start getting funny ideas about your relative independance, a problem that the Empire has learned to deal with. "Ask Khoulin what the fuck's going on. And don't take no for an answer."
"Alright!" Luca cheers. "But uh, you don't think he'll take it poorly?"
You shrug. You think Khoulin's a paper pushing data entering twit who should have been left to die of exposure when he was born. "Find some of the crappier looking ones. Division Niner Niner went through that tussle with the ENEMY-"
"-fuckin' unevolved halfwit drooler-"
"-Thank you for your contribution, Lieutenant Admiral Luca. Anyway, take Div Niner Niner and fix 'em up at Calaay. We're going to have to make some cuts. What the hell is the Brass thinking?"
Seubi raises the bonsai shrubbery that his species calls a hand. "You know, we could just uh." He coughs, and Luca and you wave away the cloud of pollen from his lungs. "Sorry, sorry. But look, there's lots of states out here that are with the E- the other guy. And we do have an order from Central to teach those enemy-aligned statelets a harsh lesson."
Tempting, tempting. But… "No. That's a damned good idea, Seubi, and we might just have to turn to that soon," you say with absolutely no regret and more than a hint of longing. "I bet that prick across the stars is watching and listening. Luca, you get me my money no matter what."
She nods. "Can I open fire if it all goes wonky?" she asks.
Luca gens Abunco, you give to the world. You refuse her request even though it sounds like a jolly good one. She leaves for Port Calaay soon later.
Now consider the area of your Front. You garrison a three dimensional area of thousands upon thousands of parsecs, where control is a suggestion instead of ironclad law. Your fifty divisions are scattered in this area, some deployed closer to the front as tripwires, but most to the rear as quick response forces. Your command citadel, an artificial gigaship bigger than some moons, is located somewhere in the middle of this whole affair. FTL communications is possible, but if you can transmit information FTL then you might as well do it to matter, so you do have a small fleet of FTL courierships to carry out secure transmissions.
Okay, other good news is that most of these divisions won't actually know that they can't be paid. Some of them might get waspy overdraft notices from their credit card companies when a private courier zooms by the end of the next fiscal quarter but you can keep this on the down low for quite a while.
Except you really shouldn't. These things you should let everyone know, because if you don't trust the idiots under you, they won't trust you. Public hysteria is a… political affair. A convenient semi-truth, heh.
Okay, now sketch out the consequences.
Some of your guys will desert- well, not desert, per say, but a good chunk of your guys won't bother to renew their contracts and head to greener pastures. You're fairly certain that some of the divisions will start charging the states where they're based on rent. You've got to put out a coherent policy soon, while fending off the ENEMY. At least you can hope that their tottering edifice of repressive horror cocks up as bad as your noble Empire does.
By 1230 you've called all representatives of the Divisions, your staff, and all officers on deck for a military plebiscite. Not the grunts, they don't count. And also, if you stuffed all of the grunts into the forum they wouldn't fit and also you want their officers to tell them what's coming next. If a L.T. or a sergeant asked why your answer would be that you want the person they know and trust giving them the bad news. But the truth is that shit rolls downhill and you want them to experience the same suffering you will shortly experience.
They come in a slow trickle. A lot of these are sensor techs and other technical officers, and they need to make sure their shifts won't cause a runaway criticality event when their asshole boss drags them away from their work.
There's a couple thousand in the forum when you step onto the stage, the ceremonial fasces in your arm. It's a stupid, beastly heavy anachronism, but you can't really argue with tradition. You can drop it with a thunk that the speakers broadcast the moment you get to the podium, though.
"Friends. Comrades. Citizens," you start, cribbing from the greats. "My apologies for the disruption. Many of you are no doubt wondering why I have elected to call you here. That is because I have received news from Central." You take a breath. This isn't going to be easy. "Owing to certain disturbances in the Capitol, Central is currently withholding pay until such time the chaos is sorted out."
You wait until the chaos in the forum is sorted out. A lot of these people are augmented beyond physical capability, so they can shout themselves hoarse for a long long while. You wait until the noise is all gone. "Firstly, I want to make it clear that at no point are we to simply sit and take it." This goes over better. "Many of you have no doubt wondered why Division Niner Niner has left for Port Calaay for repairs when this citadel has a perfectly functional dock. That's because Lieutenant Admiral Luca gens Abunco is making it clear, in no uncertain terms, that we will get our payslips signed and the money transferred."
Okay, so it's not the Great General Resheniye's Your life is not enough. I won't be satisfied until I have drunk your blood and eaten your brains.' Especially since the honored Great General, Protector and Martyr of the State, followed it up by actually doing it to the ENEMY, but you make do with what you have. "But," you continue, "I am aware that relying on the bureaucrats to sort things out is a bit… dicey. So I will straightaway pen a plan of funding and budgeting for the next fiscal quarter should the monies not be forthcoming. So I ask you to please remain at your stations until such a time. I remind you that should we leaven the Northern Front deserted, the ENEMY will sweep down, conquer Port Calaay, snatch up the Bandersnatch Stretch, and have the perfect staging ground to invade, insult, and otherwise inconvenience the Imperial Centre."
You see some faces constrict in unthinking patriotism. Others are shrugging it off. "And, of course, in such a scenario, I would imagine that we would be executed for dereliction of duty. The standard implement, by the way, being crucifixion while an electric current runs through you. So no matter what, we will do our duty. Understood? Dismissed."
No replying cheers answer you, but on the other hand you don't get rotten produce thrown at you either. You'll call that a win. At the very least they're only grumbling a bit. The toffs will stay for love of Empire, the mercs (such as you) will stay for fear of punishment, and everyone else will stay for lack of anywhere else to go. At least until the contract ends.
"What'd you think?" you ask Seubi. "And do you know when Luca's going to be back?"
"Ah, you did great. And in two months, according to the last courier. There's orbital congestion, if you believe it. Turns out a full division doesn't do good thinks to Port Calaay's port control authorities."
"Kiss ass. Get me a report on the-
THE ENEMY THE ENEMY THE ENEMY (WHAT'RE THEY UP TO?)
[]- HEY BUDDY BRO CHECK OUT MY NEW DIGS: While you weren't looking, the ENEMY has deployed pre-fab fortresses closer to the front- new ones, with wormhole hearts that can vomit conquering fleets right into your lines from staging grounds deep into their own territory.
[]- I HOPE YOU LIKED NOT HAVING THOSE CLIENT STATES: You've received like several dozen comminiques from client states that you thought were friendly to the Empire. Nah, somehow the ENEMY subverted them. You count eight regime changes, nine sudden natural deaths in ruling families, and four stock buy-outs.
[]- THIS MOVE I DO TO CAUSE YOU PAIN: Shit shit shit shit invasion fleet coming right for your ass. Okay, on one hand, shit, everyone knows they can't be paid. On the other hand, fuck yeah, clear and present enemy to make everyone forget about it.
"Alright!" Luca cheers. "But uh, you don't think he'll take it poorly?"
You shrug. You think Khoulin's a paper pushing data entering twit who should have been left to die of exposure when he was born. "Find some of the crappier looking ones. Division Niner Niner went through that tussle with the ENEMY-"
"-fuckin' unevolved halfwit drooler-"
"-Thank you for your contribution, Lieutenant Admiral Luca. Anyway, take Div Niner Niner and fix 'em up at Calaay. We're going to have to make some cuts. What the hell is the Brass thinking?"
Seubi raises the bonsai shrubbery that his species calls a hand. "You know, we could just uh." He coughs, and Luca and you wave away the cloud of pollen from his lungs. "Sorry, sorry. But look, there's lots of states out here that are with the E- the other guy. And we do have an order from Central to teach those enemy-aligned statelets a harsh lesson."
Tempting, tempting. But… "No. That's a damned good idea, Seubi, and we might just have to turn to that soon," you say with absolutely no regret and more than a hint of longing. "I bet that prick across the stars is watching and listening. Luca, you get me my money no matter what."
She nods. "Can I open fire if it all goes wonky?" she asks.
Luca gens Abunco, you give to the world. You refuse her request even though it sounds like a jolly good one. She leaves for Port Calaay soon later.
Now consider the area of your Front. You garrison a three dimensional area of thousands upon thousands of parsecs, where control is a suggestion instead of ironclad law. Your fifty divisions are scattered in this area, some deployed closer to the front as tripwires, but most to the rear as quick response forces. Your command citadel, an artificial gigaship bigger than some moons, is located somewhere in the middle of this whole affair. FTL communications is possible, but if you can transmit information FTL then you might as well do it to matter, so you do have a small fleet of FTL courierships to carry out secure transmissions.
Okay, other good news is that most of these divisions won't actually know that they can't be paid. Some of them might get waspy overdraft notices from their credit card companies when a private courier zooms by the end of the next fiscal quarter but you can keep this on the down low for quite a while.
Except you really shouldn't. These things you should let everyone know, because if you don't trust the idiots under you, they won't trust you. Public hysteria is a… political affair. A convenient semi-truth, heh.
Okay, now sketch out the consequences.
Some of your guys will desert- well, not desert, per say, but a good chunk of your guys won't bother to renew their contracts and head to greener pastures. You're fairly certain that some of the divisions will start charging the states where they're based on rent. You've got to put out a coherent policy soon, while fending off the ENEMY. At least you can hope that their tottering edifice of repressive horror cocks up as bad as your noble Empire does.
By 1230 you've called all representatives of the Divisions, your staff, and all officers on deck for a military plebiscite. Not the grunts, they don't count. And also, if you stuffed all of the grunts into the forum they wouldn't fit and also you want their officers to tell them what's coming next. If a L.T. or a sergeant asked why your answer would be that you want the person they know and trust giving them the bad news. But the truth is that shit rolls downhill and you want them to experience the same suffering you will shortly experience.
They come in a slow trickle. A lot of these are sensor techs and other technical officers, and they need to make sure their shifts won't cause a runaway criticality event when their asshole boss drags them away from their work.
There's a couple thousand in the forum when you step onto the stage, the ceremonial fasces in your arm. It's a stupid, beastly heavy anachronism, but you can't really argue with tradition. You can drop it with a thunk that the speakers broadcast the moment you get to the podium, though.
"Friends. Comrades. Citizens," you start, cribbing from the greats. "My apologies for the disruption. Many of you are no doubt wondering why I have elected to call you here. That is because I have received news from Central." You take a breath. This isn't going to be easy. "Owing to certain disturbances in the Capitol, Central is currently withholding pay until such time the chaos is sorted out."
You wait until the chaos in the forum is sorted out. A lot of these people are augmented beyond physical capability, so they can shout themselves hoarse for a long long while. You wait until the noise is all gone. "Firstly, I want to make it clear that at no point are we to simply sit and take it." This goes over better. "Many of you have no doubt wondered why Division Niner Niner has left for Port Calaay for repairs when this citadel has a perfectly functional dock. That's because Lieutenant Admiral Luca gens Abunco is making it clear, in no uncertain terms, that we will get our payslips signed and the money transferred."
Okay, so it's not the Great General Resheniye's Your life is not enough. I won't be satisfied until I have drunk your blood and eaten your brains.' Especially since the honored Great General, Protector and Martyr of the State, followed it up by actually doing it to the ENEMY, but you make do with what you have. "But," you continue, "I am aware that relying on the bureaucrats to sort things out is a bit… dicey. So I will straightaway pen a plan of funding and budgeting for the next fiscal quarter should the monies not be forthcoming. So I ask you to please remain at your stations until such a time. I remind you that should we leaven the Northern Front deserted, the ENEMY will sweep down, conquer Port Calaay, snatch up the Bandersnatch Stretch, and have the perfect staging ground to invade, insult, and otherwise inconvenience the Imperial Centre."
You see some faces constrict in unthinking patriotism. Others are shrugging it off. "And, of course, in such a scenario, I would imagine that we would be executed for dereliction of duty. The standard implement, by the way, being crucifixion while an electric current runs through you. So no matter what, we will do our duty. Understood? Dismissed."
No replying cheers answer you, but on the other hand you don't get rotten produce thrown at you either. You'll call that a win. At the very least they're only grumbling a bit. The toffs will stay for love of Empire, the mercs (such as you) will stay for fear of punishment, and everyone else will stay for lack of anywhere else to go. At least until the contract ends.
"What'd you think?" you ask Seubi. "And do you know when Luca's going to be back?"
"Ah, you did great. And in two months, according to the last courier. There's orbital congestion, if you believe it. Turns out a full division doesn't do good thinks to Port Calaay's port control authorities."
"Kiss ass. Get me a report on the-
THE ENEMY THE ENEMY THE ENEMY (WHAT'RE THEY UP TO?)
[]- HEY BUDDY BRO CHECK OUT MY NEW DIGS: While you weren't looking, the ENEMY has deployed pre-fab fortresses closer to the front- new ones, with wormhole hearts that can vomit conquering fleets right into your lines from staging grounds deep into their own territory.
[]- I HOPE YOU LIKED NOT HAVING THOSE CLIENT STATES: You've received like several dozen comminiques from client states that you thought were friendly to the Empire. Nah, somehow the ENEMY subverted them. You count eight regime changes, nine sudden natural deaths in ruling families, and four stock buy-outs.
[]- THIS MOVE I DO TO CAUSE YOU PAIN: Shit shit shit shit invasion fleet coming right for your ass. Okay, on one hand, shit, everyone knows they can't be paid. On the other hand, fuck yeah, clear and present enemy to make everyone forget about it.
Lookashiny
First and Only
- Location
- Tanith
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]- I HOPE YOU LIKED NOT HAVING THOSE CLIENT STATES
ConfusedCanuck
Where did it all go wrong?
- Location
- Neverland
[X]- HEY BUDDY BRO CHECK OUT MY NEW DIGS: While you weren't looking, the ENEMY has deployed pre-fab fortresses closer to the front- new ones, with wormhole hearts that can vomit conquering fleets right into your lines from staging grounds deep into their own territory.
- Location
- Derna
[X]- THIS MOVE I DO TO CAUSE YOU PAIN: Shit shit shit shit invasion fleet coming right for your ass. Okay, on one hand, shit, everyone knows they can't be paid. On the other hand, fuck yeah, clear and present enemy to make everyone forget about it.
i mean shit if you're dead it doesn't even really matter anymore that they weren't gonna pay you, right? 'cuz, like, even if'n they were paying there wouldn't be a 'you' anymore. can't take it with you, and all that
so really, uh, this changes nothing. i mean. it changes nothing for some of you - well, some of you are definitely gonna die. but-
i mean shit if you're dead it doesn't even really matter anymore that they weren't gonna pay you, right? 'cuz, like, even if'n they were paying there wouldn't be a 'you' anymore. can't take it with you, and all that
so really, uh, this changes nothing. i mean. it changes nothing for some of you - well, some of you are definitely gonna die. but-