Commissar-Captain Totenkopt looked up from his permanent slouch, and took in the shaking recruit. He sighed, and drew his pistol. Taking a bottle of Vodka out from the desk, he shot the top off, and poured the remaining half of the bottle into a large glass.
"Comrade Sergey Litvenko eh?" Rasped the voice behind the mask. "Father served eh? What did he do?"
Standing up, he extended a straw from the bottom of his mask, and drank the remaining vodka. Sighing, he lit a cigarette as he circled the recruit, and took a drag on it using the same straw, now retracted slightly.
"So, 'Surge.' I hear your daddy had a bit of a liking for a Corsair broad when he was in the Omega Campaign." Totenkopt blew smoke into the young man's ear as he circled him. "Do you happen to know your momma then? She a little darker of skin then?"
Totenkopt folded back into the chair, and began to fiddle with the recon insignia he was fiddling with. If his metal mask had been capable of scowling, he would have done so. He looked again at the recruit and barked.
"What, are you mute boy? Answer the bloody Questions!"
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.
Sergey was even more scared now. fear gripped him and his vocal chords. He fought it back.
"Comrade Commissar My mother is Helga Litvenko, she still lives here on Zevezdny. What my father did in the Omega Campaign is known to him and those who served with him. All I ever got were glorified stories. How his fighter wing tore through legates like paper, flew against the Rheinland dogs and came back without a scratch, and such stuff, maybe not lies, but certainly not the whole truth."
Sergey sucked in another lungful of air, before the Commissar could breath more in his face.
"It is my desire to fight the filthy Corsairs, even if there were an ounce of Corsair blood in my veins I would fight them. It is my desire to fight all those who stand against the Coalition."
As he spoke his words were getting more violent, his ire being raised.
"I will fight for the Coalition I will shout those who fight us down. For the Revolution!"
As he said the last words, he deflated somewhat, catching his breath he hoped he'd not made a mistake.
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.
"My son, you've made a mistake." As the recruit began to quake a higher rate, Totenkopt produced his pistol again, and began to twirl it around his gloved finger.
"The idea is not to shout them down, it is to shoot them down. I hope you understand that, because if not, I will shoot you down. Is that clear?"
"So, your father was a pilot was he? Tell me, what variety of ships did we fly back then? I'll even give you a hint, they were nothing like what we have now. Something else, I can see you're wondering. 'Can he just shoot me down? Can he kill me out of hand?' "
Totenkopt leaned closer, and once again blew smoke into the young man's face.
"Son, I've killed more people out of hand than you've ever met. Keep that in mind when you're shouting in my office."
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.
"My father's raven's talon was a ship I saw the most. He proclaimed to have some form of bomber, although ti never seemed to come out of a fight in one piece. a taiidan at the time I believe."
Sergey was now sweating profusely, the Commissar's gun looked more threatening by the second.
"Shooting them down, sir. That is required, yes, so it is what shall be done to the best of my ability, with the tools placed at my disposal."
Sergey waited for the shot that would end his family line.
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.
"Hrmf. Well, I suppose you might do. Never know though, maybe someone will shoot you by accident. Word to the wise, don't wear orange coveralls around here, never know who'll spot you."
As he spoke, two men in orange coveralls snuck past in the hall, carrying mop and bucket. Totenkopt jumped out of his chair, and fired a pair of shots at the maintenance crew.
"You! Surge-guy! Take this, and bloody fill it out." Tossing an application form at the startled recruit, Totenkopt raced after the orange coveralls. "Don't cock it up then!" He yelled over his shoulder, as he brought one of them down with a hit to the leg.
As blood spurted over the walls, Totenkopt laid into him with his boot.
"Purple bloody lights! What is so hard about that then? Why do you bother coming in if you're just going to cock things up?"
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.
Charlie sneered at the whelp he had the displeasure to sit beside... He was weak and powerless, in comparison, Charlie was well built, athletic and made sure to assert himself.
The lady in grey at the desk signalled to the pair, that one of them was ready to be seen. The small man moved to stand up, but Charlie was already there, pushing the small man forcefully back into his seat.
"Not a f***ing chance..." he sneered again, slightly amused by the pathetic little man, knocking on the Commissar's door.
He entered slowly, closing the door behind him, the Commissar was flipping through a stack of papers, unamused by his current assignment. His freehand hovered over a rather powerful looking revolver.
Charlie cleared his throat, straightening his stance and placing his hands behind his back.
"My name is Charles James Riley and I am twenty-nine years of age sir, I was born on Planet Denver in Liberty, I learned to fly by live-testing dangerous ships in my early twenties"
He paused a second, expecting a reaction, then continued
"I don't really care much about my house, nor it's corruption, what I do care about is it's people, and all of the people of Sirius for that matter. I assisted the Xeno Alliance in a few hit-and-run operations, but left Liberty to lose some heat"
He observed the Commissars blank stare, unsure whether he was going to be leaving through the Docking Bay, or the Airlock.
"I served with the Red Hessians for almost five years before I decided to return to Liberty, hadn't changed one bit, still the people suffer, and that pisses me off, quite alot actually... It would be an honour to fight and die for a better cause, sir"
"First of all, amigo," the attractive Hispanic woman behind the desk said, "the proper form of address when speaking to a woman is ma'am. Not sir." She raised her head, which had the expression of someone who had been woken up at an ungodly hour, told to fly over to Zvezdny Gorodok and fill in for the duty commissar who was too drunk to stand. "And you're not getting off to a good start with that display in the waiting room. Just who do you think you are?" She stood up, picking up the revolver and stepping towards him, her face intimidatingly close to his.
"I've seen your type," she hissed. "So many times. Arrogant, self-deluded, overconfident. The kind of idiota who gets himself killed in the first attack. Not to mention everyone around him. Honestly? If it was up to me, I'd shoot you sooner than look at you."
She stepped back. "So you better count yourself lucky that I'm expected to ask you questions first. Now. What branch of the Red Hessians did you serve in? Eh? Who commanded you? How many times did you foul up before they threw you out? Eh? Answer!"
Charlie narrowed his eyes, he prepared himself for the inevitable pain he would feel at some point or another, via pistol-whip or gunshot.
"I never served the Red Hessians directly, apparently I hadn't suffered enough for them, so I just worked alongside them. Anything to bite back at those a**hole Rhein-nazi's"
He eyed the gun up, high calibre, perhaps a little clumsy for practical use, but a single shot of that is likely to tear up some, perhaps shatter a bone...
"I never met them eye-to-eye, most I heard was a strong green voice. I assisted in the destruction of many a Corsair vessels too... not like you seem to care, you are just wondering if I really am another meatbag, looking to get everyone killed"
He leaned away from the gun a little,
"I can follow orders to a tee, so if you have no further use to me, you better shoot me now. I'd rather die trying to do the right thing than die like a coward at the hands of those pigs in the houses"
He straightened up again, his eyes concentrating on a spot on the wall, awaiting a sharp pain, or worse..
"Hmph," Vicenta said, distinctly unimpressed. "I just might, for taking that tone with me." She hefted the revolver and pointed it at him. "I was a Corsair," she said. "Before I joined the Revolution. Some of those ships you shot down might have been my friends. Family. Colleagues. They might even have been me. And now you come to see me, asking to join us? What do you have to say for yourself? You'd better provide me with a damn good answer in the next ten seconds, comrade."
"No offence, I'm sure you left your nation behind for a reason, and that reason alone is why I did what I did. I don't fight for money or glory, I fight because there are those who can't, no one will defend them... As I'm fully aware the Corsairs don't much care for the innocents, that is why I do what I do, with or without the Coalition, though I knew walking in here, that I was either leaving with a smile or a bullet"
Charlie braced himself again,
"But that is your descision ma'am, I'm just praying you're thinking what I'm thinking..."
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