"Permit me to riposte; your self-proclaimed subtlety bears an uncanny resemblance to the wolfish vomit of the Chant du Cygne, in the most guttural of her throws, as opposed to a knavish rake in the art of discourse. On the subject of the One True Flagship, your discourse proves as capable an escape unit as her majestic massload when confronted with an interdictive squadron of rambunctious Bretonian cruise-intolerant interceptors. A remonstrance for you; never estimate what your opposition may conclude if you do not first have a sounding of the individual. Whilst first impressions do prove servile under the odd circumstance of merit, bullishly forcing through with the full weight of your arm merely exhibits your technique to your adversary…" *coughs* "…That is to say; conversational partner."
*Achille posts towards the camera lens a demurring flicker of the eyes, obviously unimpressed by the vainglorious, vacillating applicant.*
"Firstly, 'Ghost' is not a reputation, it is a moniker. Due to your insistence upon my utilisation of that (somewhat uncreative) pseudonym, it remains somewhat suggestive that the only reason why anybody ever addresses you as such is because you have requested that right to be bequeathed upon you. Secondly, if you are a materialist creature, snuggled irreparably to your comforts, then state as much. Paragraphs of digging around the point without impacting it imply the very kind of tawdry, tardy, ill-attentive shallying mindset that the Commonwealth cannot utilise, nor will create a vacancy for."
"…At the present point, my suspension of disbelief is sorely pressed, so state to me now, in a monoline of exposition if you do so direly aspire to become a pawn of the greater good, why (to an unseanile degree of exactitude) I should barely even consider some contrived combine of a hypnotist, sensory therapist/shinobi commando iteration as an asset, as opposed to an immoderately amusing gimmick."
*A lithe, slender cigarette withers within the recesses of the ash tray*.
"You have twenty four hours, maximum, in which to arouse me ami. Do not fail your own (ghastly outsize) expectations - it'd prove awfully derogatory to your mental health, undoubtedly."
"…I await… enrapt…"
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)