Folk ARPS

Gather 'round Comrades. There's word that alien attacks are increasing across the board, and it's time to put a highly capable squad commander to some virtual tests. Sadly, they couldn't find one, so they're testing me instead. They need to figure out if I'm good commander material in case Lord Penney gets incapacitated, so they've hooked my brain up to electrodes and are forcing me to offering me the wonderful opportunity to prove my mettle at commanding our troops in the field.

Here is an example of what happens when you give me a squad of rookies and the task of blooding them on the virtual battlefield.



They say I'm just hooked to a simulation. They say I'm just being prepared in case Lord Penney comes down with the sniffles. So why is this simulation so in-depth? Why are my supervisors always so worried?

Why can't I shake this feeling that something is terribly, terribly wrong?

~ Ferrard

This simulation they have me using has absolutely incredible fidelity. I mean, I heard that the RV5 engine was leaps and bounds over previous versions, but it's still incredible. It's genuinely disturbing the way point-blank plasma looks when it melts a soldier's armor and gives him second-degree burns on one of his arms.

My instructors were on tenterhooks the entire time. As if they didn't want me to fail. If that were the case, why the hell did they program such a difficult scenario? From the sheer number and complexity of missions thrown at me, you'd think they were trying to tank my grade on purpose, but they sure didn't act like people trying to fail me on purpose.

Regardless, here's the saved track from that last scenario:



~ Ferrard

I am still sad that you continue to use these outrageously fake names on your troops.
For me the whole LP would be waaay better if I would see a boot called Kefirz and his inability to hit someone with a 78% chance of hitting.

Agreed!

There should be at least one trooper who's always looking the wrong way/is in the wrong place/has his weapon in the wrong fire mode/has a chemlight equipped instead of a frag...

The type of trooper you select for a mission only because everyone useful is wounded and it's the janitor's day off.

If you would like to be included as a trooper in these Long War vignettes, tell me what LW class you'd like to be and I'll name you appropriately! A listing of LW classes can be found at the bottom of this UFOpedia page, or:

• Assault: Close-combat specialists - the meat of my maneuver element.
• Infantry: Multi-shot, overwatching beasts - is half of my default BoF element.
• Rocketeer: Dude with an inaccurate rocket - awful at first and awesome in endgame.
• Gunner: Suppression-master with a big gun - the other half of my default BoF element and my favorite class.
• Sniper: Dude with a long gun and a scope - also awful at first and awesome in endgame.
• Scout: The poor bastard who runs overwatch - leader of my maneuver element.
• Medic: The one toting medkits - fills in where needed.
• Engineer: Eternal tapper of the "G" key - used like a rocketeer-heavy in vanilla as insurance / cover destruction.

~ Ferrard

Paint me like one of your Dallas Rocketeers.

I think Recruit Terminal Boy's combination of bone-headed determination and lack of tactical awareness would make him an ideal Run 'n' Gun Assaulter or possibly Overwatch breaking Scout.

"Run Terminal, Run!"... "Stop Terminal, stop and shoot that alien in the face!"

If he lives long enough, he'd make be good candidate for convertion into a MEC Trooper as the 10% chance of higher brain function trauma during the procedure wouldn't reduce his combat effectiveness...

"Bossman make Terminal into tank. Terminal smush aliens and light them on fire. Terminal is happy tank!"

What. The. Fuck.

I saw two of my soldiers today. The ones I send on those simulated missions. I fuckin' saw them.

I was sitting right there in the canteen, chasing peas around the plate while my mind replayed that last Op over and over again. Only luck had brought Lance Corporal Haugen back to the Skyranger, limping along on Martinez's shoulder while "Hulk" blazed away with his LMG to keep the thin mints at bay. Now she was laid up in the infirmary for the next week-and-a-half. I put my fork down in disgust and looked up, and there they were.

LCPL Jang and CPL Garcia were right there. Fresh trays of shitty government food in their hands, laughing. I must've gone white as a sheet, because they saw me and saw one hell of a hazing opportunity.

"Hey jefe, look what the cat dragged in!" "Must be one of those new rooks, looks like he about wet his pants from the excitement of seeing us grizzled vets!" "That's right, rook. What you're lookin' at is a genu-ine double-ace here! Ol' Terminal Boy here has put the lead to ten of those x-ray scum!" "Only got number 10 'cuz you can't aim for shit, Kefirz." "Shaddup!"

I knew Kefirz couldn't aim for shit. I was the one cursing at him three days ago when his rocket missed and blew up a console filled with alien nav data instead of the very pissed off glowstick leveling a plasma rifle at my squad. My apparently very real squad. Terminal had been the one to dive in, shotgun blazing, to save the day.

This... this has to be a joke. A sick, sick joke. They must use motion capture to program such a hi-fidelity simulator. These must be the actors. There's no way these have been real operations - no brass would pull off that Ender's Game shit so brazenly. Would they?

Would they?



~ Ferrard

if you could add my name in whatever role you think best I would much appreciate

Woo hoo! I'm coming home a hero Ma!

Most likely a closed casket funeral due to eating a face full of plasma on my next mission...