Benjamin glanced at the coordinates he had found from the coded transmission as to where this forsaken rock was and thus where the recruitment center was, the frozen planet glared out at him with icy grey streaks across the planet. After entering the planet’s atmosphere he quickly made out the shapes of the ships down below knowing he was in the right place he grabbed the coat he had onboard and buttoned it up to the neck and then proceeded to land.
After exiting his Civilian Freighter Benjamin glanced backed at it somehow knowing that he wouldn’t see it again. He shuddered in the coldness of this rock, he hadn’t experienced such coldness, since he was back on planet California Minor except this was much colder then anything he had experienced before.
After the brief moment of reflection he quickly ascended into the great fortress and once he had reached the opening he quickly moved across to the wooden desk where the receptionist sat working, “Hi I'm Benjamin Francis, I am here to join” he quickly mentioned. The women nodded and quickly typed something on the worn laptop.
Benjamin then walked over to the area where a solitary figure stood. He stood a short distance from him not knowing whether the man was an applicator or an officer. Benjamin then glanced quickly over to the door where the pair of war bots stood, their photo receptors glared eerily out at him.
Alek looked up as his name was called, he walked to the office, a shake down of his being to try and settle the nerves he couldnt deny were building, but he smiled, the fact his id card was thrown by Alicia, to him, this marked a step towards what he hopes would be a better time for all.
Entering the Office, he was face to face with politician, he kept on his feet, daring not take a seat without being offered. He nodded as hes asked the question acknoladging it.
"Well Sir, I wish to be part of the Coalition so i may become part of the solution for all that is wrong in this galaxy, i want to be able to make a difference, and end the foolishness that those in power seem to continously portray with their actions, i realised a long time ago, that i alone cannot change Sirius, but, as part of the coalition, i can at least be a small stone that helps the bigger path that it will create in assuring a better life for Sirius."
> Error... Unable To Request ID Information, ID Information Classified...
> Name: >Insurgent<
> Colonist: I were born and raised on Mindoir, a small border colony in the Attican Traverse. When I were sixteen, slavers raided Mindoir, slaughtering my family and friends. I were saved by a passing Alliance patrol, and enlisted with the military a few years later.
> Ruthless: Throughout my military career, I have held fast to one basic rule: get the job done. I've been called cold, calculating, and brutal. My reputation for ruthless efficiency makes my fellow soldiers wary of me. But when failure is not an option, the military always goes to me first. I sent 3/4ths of my unit to its death and murdered surrendering batarians on Torfan.
Katz considered Alek's answer a moment. Pacing slowly behind the table. "Every second applicant through that door spouts some nonsense about vengence and making a difference... tired old rhetoric that has been rehearsed a thousand times, and only leads to dead pilots in a cockpit. Little children tired of their mother's milk, and set off for the heroic wars that their grandfather's tales told them awaits them out here."
He motioned, and Alicia brought him his battered fifty mission cap, he accepted it turning the worn old cap in his hands, a thumb brushing over the SCRA Cog and Hammer on the peak.
"I fought in the front lines, the battle of Coronado, the Omega campaign under Admiral Karchov... and Ontario. I was trained by Ares himself to look beyond the status quo, to really look at a situation and see the political front as well as the military one. This is a Fighter Corps Officer, he is a warrior of the people, his battlefield is the hearts and minds of the common man, and his enemy is those that exploit him."
He looked up, "tell me, son, why is a pitchfork and a barricade more powerful than a pistol or a bomb? Why was a worker standing before tanks with nothing but his shopping bags terrifying to the totalitarian regime of Premier Li Peng?"
Katz folded his arms and looked over at the other man standing within earshot, Benjamin the computer said.
"Feel free to offer your answer as well, Ben," the Premier stated, setting the cap down on the edge of the table.
Sergio Guerrero stepped onto the deck of the Trotsky from his small transport. He had spent weeks in the cramped transport flying towards the coordinate he had been given in a bar. He still thought this might be some sort of trap. He didn't recall recently crossing anyone, but that had never stopped people from shooting at him before. He was not visibly nervous when he was asked to turn over his weapon to security, but in reality, he was terrified. The thought of going into the office unarmed and at the mercy of whoever was waiting for him was almost enough for him to turn around right then and there.
He walked towards the door marked 'Recruitment offices' and paused a moment outside the door. He straightened up his hair and fix the collar of his jacket before knocking on the door and walking into the small reception area. "My name is Sergio Guerrero, I'm here for a Interview." He said to the receptionist.
"Take a seat Mr Guerrero, someone will be with you shortly."
He sat down in of the chairs in the corner. He lit a cigarette looking around the room at all of the posters and bulletin boards. "No body would go to this much effort to set me up." He thought. "A battleship in the middle of know where... all of these posters and notes.. this must be the real deal... at least that's one thing right recently." He tapped the ashes off the cigarette and waited for his name to be called.
Discordianism: the Schroedinger's Cat of religions.
Alicia looked bemused over her laptop. The latest recruit seemed to think he was on a starship, she did her best not to chuckle as she glanced towards the great steel doors that led to the frozen wastes beyond.
"The Premier will speak to you personally shortly," she said, shuffling papers and nodding to the pair of warbots on either side of the doors. "I would recommend you leave any weapons you have on you with me. This model of bot can be a little... twitchy."
Hmm, Ben quickly paused to consider his answer so as not to give a waffling and incoherent answer.
“Well on face value they wouldn’t be however I believe that it is simply because while one person who’s armed with a pistol may look like a lunatic, however the worker with the shopping bags epitomises an idea. While the person may be no threat the totalitarian Li Peng regime on their own. Ideas are also bullet proof and as such that idea would be taught and passed on, and in fact more people would be open to ideas of that person if he or she was killed as it would be seen to be a threat to the regime. This would be used increasingly to topple the said regime.”
Hoping he hadn’t waffled on he paused hoping that the Premier would be inclined to agree with him.
Watchs him pace around the table, he felt alittle insulted that he considered it rehersed, but he kept it to himself, Watching the Old Man with the hat, seeing him rub the badge on it, continuing to listen to him as he asks his question.
Taking amoment to think, Alek mearly replyed
"Because a bomb, can only be used one, and a pistol can only be used as a weapon, a pitchfork is a tool, it can be used to farm, to protect yourself, in most senses, earn a living, a barricade can be brought down, built into shelter, into tools. The worker terrified them, because he knew, without him, without others like him, that military wouldnt exist, that regime would never have started"
He sits still keeping his composure, although in the back of his mind, he was fairly nervous, that to him seemed like the answer.
At mention of the war bots he stood up and quickly patted himself down for all of his usual weapons, then remembering he'd already been searched and secured when he stepped off his ship turned slightly red and sat back down.
"The bots already cleaned me out when I got off the ship, all I've got is a lighter, some rolling papers and some Gallian tobacco." He said setting each item on his lap while listing them off and rolling another cigarette.
"You know that was probably some sort of test, I'm sure she already knew they'd taken my weapons..." He thought to himself. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid... Though she is looking at me like she thinks I'm crazy, maybe I am crazy I mean I'm here about to either die or sign up the the Coalition. Dad would flip if he knew I was doing this." He began laughing to himself picturing the reaction of his father. Then it dawned on him that he was laughing aloud and he quickly cleared his throat and lit his cigarette turning red again.
Discordianism: the Schroedinger's Cat of religions.
Kuvera mutters as her spatial skims an ice wrought mountain, twisting the control column left and gradualy circling down towards the fortress-compound, settling the craft down with a gentle thud and running down the engines. The act produces another long winded stream of muttering as one of the engines coughs out a small amount of flaming debris and dies.
Stalking to the access ramp, she slams her fist against the door release, and jumps down outside, snow crunching under her heavy black boots, and begins to make her way towards the doors, hands half raised in a guesture of peace, absent mindedly stepping through one of the the warbots tracks.
Entering the door, she stops and stares at the manned desk, the bots, and the other aplicants, scrunching up a shief of papers in her hand, and resting the other onto the empty scabbard of an outdated cavalry saber.
Assuming anyone present would know her purpose there, she walks over to said desk, and remains still, waiting for the woman to challenge her.
[22:29:00 | Edited 22:29:52] Corey (Gheis): Just because I'm an admin doesn't mean I can't appreciate an attractive woman.
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