I've got my MOS selection date tommorow, so I'll try to get this wrapped up quick before my recruiter comes by.
It's time for a one-night performance by the Smiling Man himself, by special invitation.
I see we're arguing what has to be the most seminal under-topic in the Star Army in all the time I've been here. I say under-topic because issues like this tend to get overshadowed by concerns involving unkillable races, god-technology, 'perfect' materials, and whether my female character has enough undergarments in her inventory (and in what colors no less!).
Be it for one side or another, I'll just say that I don't frankly care. Really, I don't. I was told this was a community-wide issue to which I cynically replied that I never thought of myself as part of the community nor did it affect me (even when I did have a character in the Star Army). I was invited here to say something; as tactical fire support.
And now its time to let the guns sing.
In my time here, I've noticed a few people claim ties to the military. Well, good on you my brethren. In my time here, I've also noticed someone claim that without ST technology, PC's would no longer be 'heroic'.
What.
When I read that, it struck me. The issue here is
mortality, the fear of. Not privilage disparity (that'll always be there, and Wes makes a good response on this), not whether its feasable (people allow gravity guns and jump drives for God's sake), or the ethics involved (establishing a baseline for ethics to be judged as 'good' or 'evil' is entirely subjective and you're being inherently unethical by forcing people to accept your standards).
It boils down to a fear of the cessation of life.
Let's make a deal, Star Army Community. You keep reading, and I'll explain myself.
V. V. V. V. V.
Vi veri veniversum vivus vici. By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.
While we live, we have power. The power to do, the power to affect, the power to change. When we don't live, we can't change. Can't affect. Can't do. Powerlessness and the lack of cheeky cheer that goes along with it.
Still with me? Good. Oh, and about that quote. It was said by a German doctor by the name of Johannes Faust.
He made a deal too.
The gloves came off with that realization. I came to understand that with that utterance, and those who took it to heart without saying otherwise (for silence is equating acceptance), that it was as if people had singularly boarded a mode of transportation to Arlington National Cemetery. Dropped their trousers. And collectively pinched off a steaming loaf on the grave of each and every single servicemember who had ever died in combat.
The implication that you require a mythical save point, a safety net, to perform deeds above and beyond the call is mind-blowing and frankly...insulting.
It would have done my smiling heart good if instead they had said, "I'm a bitch, afraid of the mortality of my perfectly unique and snowflake-like character and please don't take my ST away from me because god-forbid I should pay for the consequences of my actions. I would much rather play in a universe where I can laugh and cavort and have drinking games (on a military ship, usually on duty no less) and buttfuck the captain in the weapons bay than have to face up to the idea that I'm playing someone who is involved in a dangerous profession compounded by the presence of hard-vacuum right outside the airlock and countless bastard aliens who want me dead on principle."
Does that hurt? Did it? It should. If it hurts, it means you're still alive.
Another person on this thread wrote that if we were without ST, the carefree nature of the RP would be lost.
Care...free? As in, free from worries? Free from cares? This is a military RP?
By God, man, you've created a joke even
I hadn't thought of! A military-themed game wherein I could be without worry! Without worry of injury, without worry of death, without worry that my closest friend and commrade could, in an instant, be killed. As an officer, I could play without worry that I could return to the barracks building and find empty cots and footlockers in the evening which were filled in the morning before battle. I would no longer have to worry about having to ink the forlorn words:
Code:
To whom it may concern,
It is with a heavy heart that I, (Commander's name here), must write to you to inform you that your (son/daughter) (name here) was (lost/killed) today...
Would that life could be so! But it can be, can't it? In Star Army it can. That wonderful military RP without worry, where the heroism and valor of its servicemen and women is held bond under the aegis of undying protection.
I was wrong, friends. Had I known this was the true heart of it all, I would have earnestly joined in with you so long ago.
The bombardment is over now. The guns fall silent.
And in the dark, amongst the smell of expended cordite and nitrocellulose powder, the Smiling Man's expression never changes.