Angelica nodded sagely. Quietly, she opened a drawer, pulling out a series of forms. They were set on the table before her. "Fill these out and give them to Alicia."
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"
"Much obliged Lt Commander, thank you for your time" he bowed again and took the forms, wondering if the Coalition Officer thought of him as a person or another shield of meat,
He sighed and left the office, bowing again before closing the door.
Doctor Kurt Caesera - Lieutenant in the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army.
Education: Studied at Cambridge University, Trained to be a medical practitioner at Chesterton Medical School.
Trained in ship maintenance, basic pilot and combat skills at the Coalition Hong Kong Training Facility.
Operations: Gold Thirteen, Gold Squadron
Medical Team, CPW-Trotsky
Zhukovsky Medical Centre, Zhukovsky Station
"Hmm... Zhis isn't the Omniscience club! I muzht've taken a wrong turn somewhere around... ah... how embarrazhing."
The man looks down at the incapacitated brute at his feet.
"I'm terribly zhorry for zhat, it would zheem zhat you spoke zee truth all along."
And with that he turns around and leaves the gritty reception hall while whistling on a jaunty tune. Left on the seat on which he sat moments prior is a simple identification card with a small picture of an old man wearing a mischievous smile and a spark of youthfulness in his eyes, and underneath is is written "Professor Hanibal Zarkov - Certified Gate Technician".
Pekkala stood, her bland gray uniform unwrinkling. She walked into the interviewing room and saluted. "Ma'am. Anastazia Pekkala, ma'am." She stood straight and tense, both with anxiety and practice.
Angie regarded this woman oddly. "You were here before, right?" Not even waiting for a reply, Angie continued, "So what brings you here, applicant? And please, don't say we're an alternative to your monotonous day."
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"
As Ben Warner walked into his new office he let out a sigh, pulling off his gloves and flight-jacket, tossing them casually into a wooden chair behind a long metal desk, it had several drawers, as Ben rounded the desk and sat down in the chair he took a peak inside, a small smile came to his face when he saw a stack of papers along with a TT-33 combat pistole, he had requested that this pistol be made from the Coalition's old data-banks from old specifications and materials.
He was grateful that the engineers were able to provide and would have to send them something of equal value to compensate, after-all, they were all in this together. Grabbing the Pistol and the single clip that was beside it which he slid smoothly into the weapon he flicked the safety off and put it back into the lower drawer, ready just in-case.
The office itself was drab, very little in decor, metal walls with a bookshelf to the right of the desk, mostly Fighter Corps Operations Manuals and technical manuals for Coalition infantry weapons. Behind him a banner of the Coalition hung proudly, the top of his desk was clear of items...For now.
Other than the items mentioned the room was empty, slightly chilled due to Ben having requested Engineering turn down the heating, the reason; Quite simply Ben preferred the cold weather.
As he brushed his short brown hair with his right hand to the side, his glasses almost falling off his nose as he did so he gave a small sigh, hopefully Alicia wouldn't send a complete fool through his door, he hadn't had a drink today and would be quite upset if he had to deal with idiocy first thing in his day...
Anastazia dropped from her taut posture, but remained serious. "I am here because it's time for my family to rejoin with the main force of the Coalition. We've been working our way here for centuries. My family has suffered through the prejudice of all four Houses because of our background." She assumed the Lieutenant Commander had at least a basic file on her history.
Rhys waited patiently in the waiting room. He opens his cargo pocket and pulls out a butter-fly knife. He looks at his nails in his hand and starts carving out debris that is filled between the nail and flesh.
He then looks around, whistling... "... My day can't get any better. I have to say that this place is quite soothing..." mutters to himself. "... scent of tint rotten blood, dark corridors - hmm, as I expected before I came here..." [clears throat]
Rhys continues carving out debris from his nails as he leans over.
![[Image: Tyrael.gif]](http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20070319171309/diablo/images/a/a5/Tyrael.gif)
![[Image: 16106_s.gif]](http://signavatar.com/16106_s.gif)
