The Griffin's cruise drive was operating at full capacity. A blinding blast of white irradiated from the back of the ship, illuminated the ship against the blackness of space. It hurtled towards the Trotsky, carrying its lone passenger. He had heard of the Coalition mainly from Red Hessian contacts. Heard good things, also frightening things. However, options were becoming short in number by this point.
He reached over to his console as he neared the Trotsky, flipping a switch that disabled his cruise drive. The drive continued operating. He flipped the switch several more times. Still no change in speed. He yanked back on the stick, feeling his body pulverized into the seat, narrowly missing the cruiser's massive shielding. His fist slammed onto his console and the drive finally cut out.
"Coalition cruiser Trotstky, this is Ethan Scott, requesting docking permission."
He cursed under his breath at his ship. If it didn't kill him it did an amazing job of embarassing him.
The autopilot kicked in as the ship guided itself into the Trotsky's hangar bay. Looking rather ramshackle compared to the others inside, it only reinforced his self-conciousness. He was always taught to make a good first impression. It carried him well so far, or so he kept telling himself.
Once the ship settled itself he prompty evacuated himself from the ship. No need to linger around the rustbucked, he thought to himself. His dark brown hair was a jumbled mess and unkempt from being compacted for hours by the cumbersome helmet. A two day stubble adorned his face, except for the spot on his chin where scar tissue formed. A memento from a knife fight on Leeds. The one his left cheek running up to the brow was acquired on Barrier Gate. He's not welcome there anymore.
After proceeding through various corridors he spotted an attractive young woman sitting behind a desk. If this was the view, this gig might not be so bad after all, he thought. He ran his fingers through his hair in a desperate attempt to make himself look pleasant. Not much he could without a shower and a shave, however. He approached the table in a confident stride, hoping to convince her that he was as serious as he was, never mind the appearance.
"Hello there. I'm here to inquire about recruitment," he spoke in a clear manner.
He was going to try and charm her, but that seemed like a bad idea. Last thing he needed was to be tazed a woman, again. He also had a sudden urge to light up a cigarette, but also decided that was a bad idea. All he could do was wait for the pretty woman's response.
