SCRA Recruitment Centre

[Inquisitor Gaunt]

She gives a light nod, possibly in response to the first question or acknowledgement to the latter, pursing her lips for a second. Her tone remains muted, and nervous, but she at least forces a hampered smile.

"M-My motivation ma'am..."

Another slight pause, her jaw hanging loose for a second.

"To be fr-frank, ma'am, I was a transport p-pilot fer Interspace a'fore. Alot'a to'n'frowin' but er..."

She draws a breath, it once again ragged.

"I'll be blunt...it's borin', and lonely work. No-one t'talk to, nothin' interestin' t'see..."

Her tone slowly strengthens as she speaks, her motivation raising her morale slightly.

"But it ain't enough. I fly in Kusari, Bretonia, Liberty...it's all mundane. Y'all go beyond 'at, y'obviously ain't in th'places I sit, so y'gotta be elsewhere...somewhere interestin'. But it ain' just explorin' I wanna do..."

Her shoulder sag slightly as she licks her lips, evidently nervous.

"I'm...Texan, I ain' meant t'just sit down and do nothin'. It's in m'blood. I don't mean I wanna head out there n'kill everythin', I just want an adrenaline rush occasionally. Hell, all people do. I think joinin' you would do 'at...and in exchange, I work m'a** off for y's."

Her confidence suddenly evaporates as she finishes talking, biting at the inside of her cheek and bottom lip.

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