Valentino's only reaction to the given answer was a quick blink, before his eyes darted across the room, to Koslova, they made eye contact, as the Major slowly shook his head, he spoke to one of the recruits, his voice raising somewhat.
"Miss Murray, does she sound like a believer to you?"
Valentina sat silently on her chair, while the Major was busy with the interview. She was busy loading her revolver, maybe she has to make use of it soon...
The sound of it made the recruits a bit nervous, she could feel that...
A rusty, battered Startracker limps towards the Trotsky. Once the pilot receives permission to dock, he carefully and precisely manoeuvers it into place, allowing the docking nodes to clamp into the cruiser's grooves. The airlock light flashes green, and Lukas Hoffmann steps into one of the cruiser's corridors. Immediately, two armed guards step out from either side of the airlock and accost him.
"You here for recruitment?" one asks, drumming his fingers on the butt of his pistol.
Lukas nods, more nervous inside than his appearance would suggest.
"This way," states the other, turning and setting off at a brisk pace down the corridor. Lukas hurries after him, listening to the sound of his own footsteps on the metal floor and pondering his immediate future.
After about a minute, they reach the waiting room. Several other applicants are already seated, and some of them glance up momentarily as he steps in.
"Here," motions one of his guards, gesturing towards an empty seat. "Stay here and wait to be called."
Lukas nods, and carefully sits down. He clasps his hands together and sighs. Had he made the right decision by coming here?
A man walked into Koniev's office. He had a suit and a tie. How he got into this place, was a mystery. Interesting thing was the camera on a band hanging from his left shoulder.
Good evening. I am looking for a colleague of mine, sent here a few months ago to redecorate. His name is William Preston. Any idea if he managed to get here?
He paused briefly, and realized his awful mistake...
Excuse my manners. I am Evan Silverton - Owner and Proprietor of 'The Inner Touch'. We create decorations in a rather peculiar way. Did you like yours? Mind if I make a few pictures for the portfolio?
Doriano turned his head briefly, looking at the hole in the wall. Now he was amused, his voice returning to its original tone; quiet and deliberate.
"Ladies, there will be order here, that is final. Miss Murray, while an answer to a rhetorical question is always obvious, it is not our way to toss our comrades to the wolves, remember that. Olga, your short temper will be the death of you. This is a military, the fighter corps of the Coalition. Do you truly expect me to shelter an orphaned girl with most likely not combat experience and the inability to even hold her temper?
And Miss Murray, your lack of loyalty to your potential colleagues is quite worrisome. How do we know you can be trusted when you so quickly turn on someone you do not even know? You could have easily, and unknowingly robbed the Coalition of one of its greatest future assets without even knowing it."