' Wrote:Silence - as much could be expected.
The fans thrummed quietly as they had for hours.
The man across the room shifted nervously for the fifteenth time in the last hour.
Hearbeat in your ears, as it had been as long as you had been in this purgatory - forever, memory indicated. The past was a haze, occluded by the oppressive nothingness here that left one alone with his self.
Then, a break in it.
A steady clack of boots on an unseen hallway.
Coming closer. Stop, with a click. The swoosh of a cloak, or coat.
A foot moved.
The door suddenly opened in front the small old man, who glanced up at the sudden noise.
A comparably aged man stepped into the room, heading straight for the applicant, ignoring the others sitting around. He was old, yes, but his body was still lean and hard, and his preservation belied a life of hard military service and other difficult times, like he was tempered iron - and looked just as cold as well. He wore a long grey coat of the Coalition, trimmed with an odd blue that was not familiar. He had a tall, thin face, almost caricatured in appearance. A narrow pair of glasses perched atop his nose, disrupting the sharp glare of his eyes with their thin lenses as he looked down dryly at the shrivelled husk of man that sat before him, looking up at him.
He crossed his arms across his chest for a moment, and then looked down to adjust his glasses with one hand, that he promptly locked back in place.
"I will not ask you your name, as it is entirely unimportant, and I already know it... and your age is more evident than you would think." He bent down a little bit, closer to the man. His mouth was almost entirely expressionless, with just a hint of exasperation on it. "These simple questions do not matter. What matters is the single question I have for you now. What makes you so special that you would seek to join the Coalition?"
The old man looked up at the officer slowly, more due to his frailty than as a dramatic device. The man before him was strong, probably spry, and was certainly more than his equal in physical prowess. If he could not make his case here, the old man realized, he would be shot and his body disposed of. And yet, he felt compelled to try. His will, perhaps, was the only thing even remotely strong about him. He chuckled, dry and rasping.
"I do not seek to join your glorious Coalition, sir." At a sharp frown from the man before him, he continued. "I do not ask anything of you but employment. You see, I have grown rather bored in my old age, and can no longer act as my former employer's retainer. As he has no use for my particular set of skills, I could not in good conscience remain on his payroll and take up space." Dusting off his battered glasses, the old man continued.
"I do not wish to be known as a Coalition member by you or any unaffiliated party. My only desire from your organization is something to do. Think of me as a hired gun, who will not fly your ships nor even consider your ideals. I do not desire any payment, rather I seek something to do to pass the time." The old man was overcome with coughing, briefly, and leaned back in his seat after it had subsided.
"It's not a bad proposal, I think, for you gentlemen. Rather than sacrificing your own promising young men and women, why not send me in to the fray? At the very least, all that will come of it is my own ship being destroyed, and my life being lost instead of that of one of your men."
