Name: Nicolai Sobieski
Age: 33
Height: 185 cm
Weight: 90 kg
Hair Color: Dark-brown
Eye color: Brown
Location: Planet Curacao
Since i can remember, i was told from my parrents that my ancestors are from the old-earth country known as Russia(U.S.S.R.). From what i heard they were great people, strong and honourable. They never draw back from a fight, and fight against anyone who opposed them. The first time i heard those storiesm i was inspired to be a great man myself too but since i come from a wealthy family i loved to enjoy my life too. And i sttled down on Planet Curacao for relaxation. But I can stand back no more and see how these corrupted people try to rule everything. Now I decided to join my comrades and fight the corruption and everyone who denies our might. For that i humbly request that i may join the SCRA, the group who can fulfill my dreams.
Applicant: Nicolai Sobieski
Status: DENIED
Reason: Lack of understanding about our motivations and modus operandi. Also, applications to be made in person.
A man walked past, taking little notice of the storm of bullets smashing into the water fountain, save to duck He did notice the worker with the new sign. After reading it, he turned around and ran in the direction of his room.
As he turned the corner into his room, which was a shared sleeping area, he tripped on a broken piece of tile, and smashed his face into the ground. He got back up. And ran into the room, with blood streaming down his face, from a nasty gash on his forehead.
He quickly gathered up a handful of objects, and shoved them into his bag.
After checking that he had forgotten nothing, he turned to run back to the recruiting office, but was blocked by his friend.
"Whats up john?" asked his friend. John considered telling his friend, he decided against it, because his friend would also want to become a fighter pilot. "Err... I need to go see a friend." john lied. "Right" said his friend, who continued to block his way.
John punched him, hard.
As his former friend doubled over in pain, john stepped over, and walked away.
After leaving the room, john began to run. As he ran, he put on his low profile armor.
As he walked into the recruitment office, he was greeted quietly by the repairman tasked with replacing the door, who stared at the blood still trickling from the gash on his forehead.
"Err, i'm here to apply to the fighter corps." john said.
"I err... John was slightly intimidated by the recruitment officer.
"My name is john Birmingham; I was recruited from planet Cambridge six years ago. After hearing about the coalition, I managed to find agents of the coalition on Cambridge, who were tasked with finding other recruits. I have tried to fight the oppressors on Cambridge, but was unable to do much, given that I knew I could not evade the police if I struck at anything important."
After waiting a moment for the recruitment officer to respond, he continued.
"I have spent time in the simulators, and have worked as ground crew on some of our fighter craft. I believe that I can serve the revolution better by piloting a ship, sir."
"If you want me to fill any forms out, then tell me, and I will fill them out as soon as I can. But I think that it would be a waste for both of us to spend our time on that, sir."
John wiped the blood of his face, and waited for the recruiter to respond.
' Wrote:<span style="font-family:Century Gothic">Violence is Golden</span>
The monitor started to gimp in a strange way. High fidelity sounds and strange beeps came out of the speakers. It seemed as if the right frequency couldn't be found... then suddenly the monitor image was clear and the rustle stopped. A man with a greying short beard, probably fifty years old stood there in his strange black uniform and a cigar in his hand. Some unknown badges are decorating his jacket. He puffed away a dense cloud of smoke before he started to speak.
So I finally managed to find your communication frequency... I know who you are, but you might probably do not know me. I'm agent Kirill Stukov, Marinenachrichtendienst of the Chancellor. I will come straight to the point: the pest of corruption is infesting more and more of the Rheinland companies. The RFP has become a shadow of itself, smugglers can do what they want if they hand over enough of this filthy money which was earned by the capitalists while the poor are starving on the streets, trying to survive. Might seems to have a bad side effect on everybody who is abled to try its poisonous taste.
The man puffs again. He seemed to be nervous.
I can't stand this situation any longer without losing my mind. The whole situation is escalating, everybody lives for his own profit, the mighty rule the poor, pressing the last credit out of those who are already at the lower end of society. Do you hear me? Righteous civilians are losing their life because of this giant capitalistic spiral of terror.
We have to stop this development, for the wealth of all. The majority shouldn't suffer for the wealth of a small minority which has all the money. It corrupts and they want more, even if it means the death of somebody else.
Good sirs, let us fight this terrible situation together! I know you're on the right path to free the galaxy from the claws of capitalism.
Pavel Medvedov.
That short name, in itself, meant quite a lot.
It was that of a decorated Rheinland war hero, a Rheinland Cruiser Captain - since courtmarshaled after the Kusari retreat... It had also the name of a brilliant Strategist consultant for Rheinland Navy - while he had still been in service with them, that is. It was now the name of a lone miner specializing in operating in systems on the Edge, known for his habit of opening fire on anyone who tried to come near him. He was an old fellow, probably over sixty. Although his vivacity was dubious, there was no denying his tenacity. Some thought he'd never die - and given what he'd been through, the mere fact that he was alive or hadn't been shot for egregious behavior was almost a miracle.
Not that he believed in miracles. Bah! Faith in miracles or deities were for the weak who couldn't live for themselves. Those who couldn't forge their own paths. Faith in governments, now that he came to this thought, was also misplaced. Not that you could trust any of them with anything. Bunch of corrupt pigs, sitting in their offices, playing with the people like they were pawns on a chessboard.
Likely, it was the past of strife with the government was what had brought Pavel Medvedov here - to the SCRA recruitment office. Or maybe it was recent revelatory experiences he'd had with a certain Sev, wanting to change the world and all that. Or maybe just his roots had brought him here. On yet another hand, it might have been simple fate that he had somehow been told about the SCRA and their mission. Maybe it was fate.
Not that he believed in fate. Bah! Fate was just another way of saying nothing. No matter what would happen, it would be your "fate." Those who resigned themselves to fate did nothing. Pavel, knew, though, that his fate was his to control, even as old as he was.
And that was he was walking down this hall, in his old, worn greatcoat and captain's hat, stroking his grey beard in contemplation. That was what had given his aged eyes another crease of worry, and that is what gave his feet a more determined step to replace their aged shuffle.
And that was why he pushed the door to the SCRA office open.
Only a single object was seen in the opaque, dark room of the Coalition Recruitment office. A single sign shined out from under the flickering light. He knew that he had come to the right place. He stood still in front of the door for a good 10 seconds, most likely wondering whether he should enter or not. The room was quite, only the sounds of the maintence machines were heard. The man inhaled deeply and wiped the sweat from his forehead before lightly knocking on the door.
A second later a voice speaked out in a heavy Russian Accent, "Come in.."
The man entered the room and stood at ease before the recruitment officer's desk, his hands were clasped in front of him. No longer was the man a nervous soul, no more sweat was seen on the man's forehead. There was the single sparkling light of the lamp, the only single source of light in the dusty room. The man was ready to fight for the rights and equality of the people. He was ready to join the revolution. The recruitment officer hardly moved his head, his eyes looking up from the book he was reading. Finally, after a short while the man started to speak. "Greetings comrade." The man said confidently. "My name is Adrian Koslov, I have come here today to enlist in the Coalition." The man did not stutter or hesitate. His path of destiny was clear.
He did not even pause to think of what he was going to say. He knew his will and purpose and he continued; "It is obvious that I am of Russian decent comrade. This is only rumors, but this is what I was told from my grandfather. My ancestors were part of the Coalition Sabotage Force that crippled the Alliance ship Hispania. After the first explosion they ejected off the ship with the Corsairs in fear of being caught. When they had finished their mission they went into the shadows on Planet Crete. Living in hiding until they passed away. But, infact of all the hardships they managed to raise a child, a healthy baby that managed to grow up into one of my great grandfathers named Ivan. I still have the letter that they sent to him." Adrian explained as he pulled out a dirty, brown, and crinkled piece of paper. He looked at it for a second, his eyes filled with deep thoughts, and then he continued, "They had wished for him to meet up with the other Coalition forces that managed to make it into the Sirius system and join their ranks as a pilot of the New Coalition order. But of cource that never happened. Instead, Ivan chose a life of greed like the filthy capitalists and vanished working for the Bounty Hunters. For a time, I did not know where my heritage and ancestory went. But in spite of everything I had one more living relative that was true to the Communist cause, my late grandfather. He told me of the ideals of the Coalition, and the cause that they are trying to spread. When he died, he left me with a couple million credits and this note that he found from an old journal, which happens to be the one that my Coalition ancestors wrote long ago. For the rest of my childhood life and into my early adulthood infact I have roamed to the far reaches of Sirius. I now know of my grandfather's visions. For so long have I seen the greed of the Capitalist pigs and the Fascist fools. For so long have I seen the mass murdering of innocent civilians killed when only wanting to lead a better life. For so long have I seen the Bounty hunter's only intend, money, and killing people for it. For so long have I seen nothing but evil, gluttony, and needless violence that this new 'Sirius' provided. I have seen enough and I wish to honor my heritage in joining the ranks of the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army. I am ready comrade, to fight for all that is worthy and to fight for the Revolution." With a deep breath Adrian looked up with pride and confidence, his eyes glaring to the emptiness of the room.
The Coalition Recruitment officer looked at him for a second, snatched his application and harshly waved him off. Adrian walked tall out of the room, with a small smile on his face.
Recipient of the Hispania Memorium, Golden Fourragere, Halo of Valor, Order of the Red Star, and the Hero of the Revolution
There wasn't much. But thern again there's never much .
The coalition recruiter sat at his desk once again reviewing the information sent previously by the upcoming recruit...
***Opening Data***
Name: Ilana Oliver Age: Hey! Im a girl! Don't you know it's rude to ask these things!!! Height: 173cm Weight: Thats even worse than asking my age! Hair color: Dark brown - black Eye color - Dark. Unknown color. ***Closing Data***
Illana Oliver walked through the door into the coalition recruitment office, trembling with fear. She smiled secretly. Her nervous appearance would make her surprise all the better.
"Err... hello" She said to the statue-like recruitment officer.
Silence...
"Um... Ok. Hi, my name is Ilana Oliver, And... er, I used to be a civillian living on planet Curacau... and er...."
"Enough. Get out. Go home and play with your dolls. The coalition is not for babies" the coalition recruiter interrupted, his accent strange and unknown to Illana.
"But Did I mention..." Proceeded Illana confidently, " That my father was a liberty navy officer?"
Silence...
At the mention of the word "Liberty", a thousand automated guns pointed in her direction. The recruitment officer had his own gun in his hand.
Illana casually pulled out a blaster.
"Hey!" cried a recruit behind her. "How did you - " *gunshot*
The recruit rolled onto the floor, dead by Illana's hand.
A coalition fighter piot said in an ordinary voice:
"Every recruit who enters this building is thoughrally checked in every part of their body. And by everywhere, I mean EVERWHERE (lucky bastards). How on earth did you get that blaster through?"
"Trust me" She said with a smile, pocketing the gun and relaxing back into her chair.
"You don't want to know".
The recruitment officer still had his gun out.
"Now. I want the truth." He said.
"very well..."
Illana cleared her throat "My name is Illana Oliver, as stated before. I was born on planet curacau, when soon after I was born, my mother died of an unknown desease. My father raised me generously as I vigorously studied to someday know the cause of my mother's death. After resigning from the Liberty Police, we moved to New York. He joined the navy in hope of some extra cash. One day, he spent a few months on duty to an "unknown system" of which I later learned to be alaska. He uncovered evidence suggesting to a jumphole to another sytstem. When he got back to New York, he was in a state of shock; god knows what liberty did to him. He convinced me to come with him, as he went on his ventures. Now usually I abhor such forcefullness onto me - but I agreed, finding life within the alliance to be boring, as I have no wish to fight against rheinland. A few days later, after clearing through alaska, we ended up in omicron minor where we were accepted by the order. My father helped in the design and construction of order capital ship turrets days before his death. His final wish was the destruction of liberty and their allies. I continued to work within the order aboard an Order "Geb" Class Carrier (unfortunatley the ship name is classified) until their ventures lead me to Omega 52, where they were stopping by for fuel. The coalition allowed the carrier to dock. I learned of the coalition and their views. I continued working on the carrier for a few years after, learning about the coalition. I decided eventually that the order was no home for me - I did not hate the nomads as much as I hated liberty and life within the alliance.
Therefore, I came here, omega 52. With a place among the coalition to conquer the stars. This is a place I someday wish to call home."
Illana walked out of the office without haste, a certain grace within her movements. She sat down with her arms folded as she waited in the waiting room for the recruiter's decision.
Young guy enters hall way ... looks around and stops at reception ... Guten tag , my name is Stefan Aleksandrov i am looking for recruitment office , please can you direct me to it?
Receptionist: Yes ... please follow that officer there he will lead you to your destination. Thank you for help.
After a short trip with elevator he find him self in front of recruitment office doors. He was shaking ,scared , he didn't know what will happen if he get rejected ... My parents wont accept it , i will embarrass them. He takes deep breath and enters office. Inside older officer and with him younger guard but not younger then Stefan. Guten tag my name is Stefa He got interrupted by the officer : Search him first. Guard searched Stefan for hidden weapons or anything else that could harm anyone in that room. He pulls out of Stefan pocket ,paper with short biography.
Guard: Captain , should i read this or let him read it . I am not sure i can read his handwriting.
Recruit officer responded to question with angry tone in his voice: Let him read it . He is looks like a child , possibly cant read but we have to give him a chance ,anyway i am bored here all day. Alright start reading it.
Guard gives a paper to young Stefan and he start reading: My name is Stefan Aleksandrov , i am from Rheinland ... looks away from papar and say well i thought i was continues to read I grew up on New Berlin and now i am eighteen years old and i want to go my parents steps . Most of this information i found out before two weeks . From that day i was looking for you to join. My family is related to Coalition members that were on Rheinland sleeper ship. That is few generations ago and all family members were helping Coalition any way then can . My parents where doing just recon across in civilian crafts and not sure about other family members , i don't know them. Our last name got changed couple of times since they come to Rheinlandand now when i find out our real last name i renamed when i hit eighteen years , first one who done that from our family. My family didn't tell me this until 2 weeks before my eighteen birthday so it all new for me. We even learned different things in school , but in last 2 weeks i learned all i need , as far as my parents think i need .
Recruit officer stands up and yells : Oh , my god ... you almost put me at sleep with it can you just tell me what you want ... well i guess what you want but just speak ... continue
Stefan stop looking at paper and notes on it and looks officer in eyes. Alright , combrade. Can i call you like that?
Officer: Sure , you can , and hurry with it i dont have all day ... i want to go on lunch
Stefan continues I will come to a point now ... I want to join Coalition that is Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army and if i don't succeed this time i will try and try until i get in eventually , belive me! I don't want to fail my parents or all generations before me that worked for you. I am ready to learn i am first time leaving New Berlin i don't have any fight experience but i will learn .
Officer: Alright , we will consider this ... Thank you
Young Stefan leaves office and on the way down receptionist say : Nice , you are alive ...good luck comrade ...you will need it to survive next meeting with that guy again. Receptionist smiles and waves to Stefan on his way out.
Commander Eugen Weise sat in his chair, behind his suitably large desk. A loaded pistol lay next to his hand, beside the small pile of applications. In front of him, at various and approximate positions of attention, stood five potential recruits, and a viewscreen on a pedistal. With a final glance at the files, he stood, and walked to the viewscreen, sardonic grin firmly in place.
"First, for a lack of intelligence in responding to direction, Kirill Stukov is hereby rejected. Show up in person, and I might not shoot you. Probably will though." The grin grew. He fired a single round through the viewscreen, and turned to the next candidate as it toppled to the floor in a shower of sparks.
"Second, Comrade Pavel Medvedov. You are directed to fill in the second stage Questionaire, take it and go." Pavel gave a curt nod, turned, and left the room.
"Third... Adrian Koslov. You are required for further questioning. Wait outside." As he scuttled outside, he gave a single glance back to the other three.
"Fourth, John Birmingham and Stefan Aleksandrov. Your applications are denied, feel free to try again in the next life." As they turned to one another, one opened his mouth to speak. Eugen's pistol barked, and shut his mouth for eternity, then snapped the other's head around and spilled his brains across the wall. Eugen's grin grew wider still. Holstering his pistol, he walked around to the other side of his desk, and pulled out a crossbow, an archiac, if effective weapon. Captain Thorvaldsson had generously loaned it for the work ahead...
"And now you, Illana Oliver. I have several bones to pick with you. First of all, next time you send me information, it'd better not include your eye color. I am not blind, and I dislike listening to people's descriptions of themselves. I could talk about myself for hours, but I don't. I prefer to let people appreciate me themselves..."
He placed the crossbow on the floor, stuck one perfectly shined boot in the crutch, and began to wind it with swift, effecient motions, pausing for a moment to look at the recruit. "Show me that pistol of yours. Now."
As she drew it from it's hidden holster, he snapped the crossbow to his shoulder and let fly. With a crunch, the bolt embedded itself in her wrist, and then both into the wall. As the blood began to flow, he leaned close, and whispered in her ear.
"The next time you shoot someone in my office without me telling you to do it, I will shoot you. If that's not clear, then don't return from the medbay. Now, get out of my sight, and come back once your get that pulled out. Oh, and the next time you fail to divulge infomation, such as the name of the Order Carrier you served on, I shall kill you slowly and painfully." As she scampered from the room, he sat back down bahind his desk, and signed heavily. God, I love my job some days.... Lighting a cigarette, he called for Koslov to return.
"Now, Adrian Koslov. I have a few questions for you... Why do we seek to overthrow the alliance? What is more important, the needs of the state, or the needs of the people? Tell me why."
As the recruit began to stutter out a reply, Eugen held up his hand. "Remember Comrade, if I dislike your answers, you shall suffer the same fate as the others..." Koslov stood, surrounded by bodies and the smell of blood.
Jack Handey Wrote:I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
The display turned dark after Weise shot down the the other side of the transmission stream. Stukov puffed again calmly.
A reaction like this had to be expected.
Stukov turned around and left the communication room of his ship. The dark green corridors appeared even darker and claustrophobic then ever before. The smouldering cigar in his hand he walked down to the cockpit of his ship.
If this is the only way to go on the path of justice, I'll have to do it.
After he fnished the input of the Coalition's recruitment office, he leaned back and watched the stars go by. Somehow his cigar tasted better then before.
Kirill, these are the last moments in which you are a slave to the oppressors and their filthy money! Soon I will be fighting with my brothers and sisters against this spectre, which is called capitalism.
He walked into the recruitment office and saw Weise sitting behind a giant desk. Before the Coalition commander reacted, he pulled out the guns, which were hiding on the sides of his torso, below the black uniform mantle. He hold both of them high into the air, emptied the munition and throwed the weapons to the ground.
Here I am, ready to serve the revolution. These weapons are made with the filthy money of the capitalists, I don't need them anymore.
Stukov crossed his arms behind the back and awaited the answer of Weise.
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