"Hmm, those pulse cannons are meant to kill the shields of any opposition, while the razors are there to make sure there isnt much ship left after they fire." Replied Williamson.
When life gives you lemons..... throw them at your enemies!!!
"Very good," Alvarez stated. "That's the technical assessment of the weapons... but you still haven't answered my question... Eh, Boris, teach him to pay attention to a man trying to teach him something..."
Boris's bat connected in rather a stout and sickening fashion, sending the applicant sprawling.
Up on the sensor spar, Alvarez crouched down, playing with one of his knives. "That had to hurt, esse, I mean Boris here, he ain't soft, an' he don't pull punches... so... answer my question... or Vickie over there's going to shoot off one of your hands."
Williamson doubling over in pain" *Cough* That really smirks.... fine the advantage is it should probably kill things bigger than itself *Coughs up a bit of blood*..... and i assume the BAF runs because one, they dont have our resolve, and 2, it can tear up any sorry excuse for a ship they have to offer...."
When life gives you lemons..... throw them at your enemies!!!
Alvarez waggled his hand, rizing to his feet as he hopped down from his perch. He crossed his arms and leaned against the forward landing gear of the Social Credit.
"BAF ships are large, making them easy targets... but tough. A pulse cannon can, easily, strip shields of any fighter... but to follow that up with a triple Razor hit takes... skill." He glanced up at the ship and back down at his 'student'. "Trained BAF know that a Storm is probably one of the most lethal 1-2 punch gunnys out there. Perfectly designed to give them a very... very bad day. A wise BAF commander orders a strategic withdrawl till they can call in heavier support."
He uncoiled from where he stood, shifting on his feet again. "You see, in the Coalition, we don't underestimate our enemies. We analyze them, and we learn what our superiors are trying to teach us. So... next question... muppet... Who is Alvin Katz, and what happened in Ontario?" He smiled, as Boris whacked Williamson again... "Oh... and you should really learn to dodge... Esse."
Spits out some blood, "Alvin Katz, was the man that was in charge of the Revolution at Ontario. He had almost succeeded rallying many to support him. In the end, Liberty moved in and attempted to assassinate Katz. This plan had failed and started a large revolution in Ontario, this had failed in the end, Katz and the rest of the agents we sent there returned to the Omegas."
When life gives you lemons..... throw them at your enemies!!!
"Resulting in the democratically elected Socialist government of Ontario, you see, victories take many forms, homes..." Alvarez nodded again.
"Cardamine is... what?" Alvarez cocked his head to the side, expecting a decent answer. So far he wasn't impressed with the recruits listening skills, but if he answered this question... maybe...
"Well, what is Cardamine, Ragazzo?" he demanded, as Vicenta pressed the barrel of the shotgun at the base of the applicants neck.
"Cardamine is a scurge and needs to be dealt with.... *Coughs*... It causes people to lose themselves, change, and it will force a person to eternally use it to survive." as Williamson looks up at the recruiter for some sort of expression.
When life gives you lemons..... throw them at your enemies!!!
"I just don't feel the... passion from you..." Alvarez murmured. "I'm getting a lot of... " he waggled his hand. "But nothing that makes me think, this Kid, he's the one, you know? And I need that... that... magic."
He rests a hand on the applicant's shoulder and walked with him down the length of the hanger bay, towards the glowing blue shield that seperated them from space outside. Passing Commodore Guillentra's shuttle, and a couple of techs who winced, and watched... suspecting what was going to happen next.
"So tell me, homes, why shouldn't I just push you out this force field and let you walk home? Why should I let you anywhere near the Fighter Corps? See, I think you might be a spy... and we don't like spies round here... spies never seem to... what's the word Vicenta?"
"Have the stuff?" Vicenta called back.
"Si, si... the stuff... you got the stuff?" Alvarez grabbed the applicant by the front of his jacket and pushed him towards the screen, a fiery look in his eyes. "DO YOU?"
"Spy huh? No as youve probably already pieced together, a spy would be more trained to answer with more feeling. Me? I may not be an amazing speaker but i am certainly a man of action. If you dont chance this how could you ever know?" He stated coldly.
"Honestly, what do you have to lose either way? You kill me, you lose some punk kid and never know what he could of been. You let me live, and maybe ill suprise you, and if I dont you can simply just put a bullet in my head later." He argued
Turning to face the recruiter,"But if you do try to kill me.... no promises i wont try and stop you. Ill die by all means, but maybe i could take the man that ended me with me. And if not then the man that ended me can just go on fighting, or beating up newcomers, whatever floats his boat."
When life gives you lemons..... throw them at your enemies!!!
Alvarez hauled Williamson closer, staring into his eyes, his brow furrowing. "Attitude right now, isn't going to endear you to me, either your a comrade, that knows his place... or you are, as you say, some worthless punk kid. I want you to tell me... why do you think we do this? Why do we put applicants for the Fighter Corps through this kind of scrutiny? Do you think it's for some kind of sick amusement? Eh homes?"
He hauled the kid around and drove him into the side of Guillentra's shuttle. producing his combat knife and resting the tip of the blade under the young man's jaw.
"You think we're what, sick sociopaths with nothing better to do with our time than to cut little pretty boys like you up, gun them down... carve them up like they're a Christmas goose?"
"This is nothing compared to what a Corsair will do to you if he catches you... The Outcasts... they'd torture you for months... I hear Doc Jameson's got machines that keep a prisoner alive and conscious through every second of it... And they're the tame ones. There's the Wilde... they like to put little blue squids in your intestines and use you like a human shaped fancy dress costume... the Aoi... they mind rape you till you dance like a little marionette on the end of their strings..."
He sneered.
"And even those... they have nothing on what a Reaper of Sirius or a Phantom is going to do to you if they capture you... Esse," Alvarez shook his head. "I don't think you have what it takes to face the kind of crap we face day and night... defending this system that stands alone against all of these enemies. We aren't setting up a pre-school here, Comrade Williamson, we're at war. And I need to know, if I send you out into that..." he used the point of the blade to turn Williamson's face to stare out of the forcefield. "That you aren't going to screw up and get one of my pilots killed."
He shook his head, "so I ask you again, homes, do you have the stuff?"
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