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Well, this sure was a stark change..., Jackson thought to himself as he was forced into a chair opposite what could only be an officer of some kind, judging by the guard's respect for him and his bored, annoyed attitude. He had once felt the same attitude himself, having to deal with the mountains of paperwork and piles of idiots that made up most armies' recruitment centers. Of course, most armies didn't get the opportunity to execute the annoying recruits.
He took a few passing glances around the room. Compared to the lobby area, this room was incredibly plain - only a massive mirror covered one wall, while the rest were a drab white with no distinguishing characteristics. Both the chair he was sitting in and the table in front of him were composed of hard metal, and being shoved into the chair hadn't done well for his back.
The officer finished looking through some seemingly unimportant folder, closing it with a loud snap and placing it off to the side. He met eyes with Jackson, giving an unimpressed, bored expression, before inquiring - "Name, place of birth, and why should the Coalition bother with an insignificant muppet like yourself in the Army?"Straight to the point. I like it. He folded his arms in front of him and stated "Name's Jackson Cormack, sir. Born on Planet Ithaca, in the Crayter sector." He shifted a bit, frowning as he mouthed Crayter again. Even after leaving the Military, and even leaving his home, the word still stung in his ears and burned in his mind.
He shook his head and continued. "As for the issue of bothering with myself, sir, I'll try my best to give you a good answer." He stared past the man for a moment, almost as if he were collecting his thoughts. "Ex-Colonial Military, 12 years. Retired at the rank of Captain, three medals for gallant service and four more for combat mastery. Bomber squadron commander," he tapped his left shoulder - "and excellent at following orders." He leaned back in his chair, waiting for the officer's response.
