As soon as the man had stabbed himself, Angie was out of her seat, the pistol that she had held during his speech was thrust into his face, the barrel right between his eyes. "The last person who did something like that had his brains turned to oh-so-fine mush. Now shut the hell up and let me talk."
Her eyes narrowed, brows angling down. "The Commodore...COMMODORE, came in here, telling me to talk to you. You dare have the nerve to come in here and then insult me?! You think I talk to applicants only because I'm a lowly officer? Only because I'm good enough for the dead-end jobs?! News flash, buddy: I'm a Lieutenant Commander. Saying that I have one goal as failure of a person is not the ideology of the Revolution!"
Her hand angled the gun upwards, getting a better aim on his brains. "And what will killing you accomplish? For starters, it will redeem my shame that you gave me before my commanding officer. No one talks like that to me and gets away with it. It will also put an idiot like you out of the way." And with that, she pulled the trigger, sending a nine millimeter bullet right through his skull. The body fell backwards, slumping against the ground.
Angie lowered the gun, turning to the Commodore. "I apologize for this, Comrade Commodore. I'll have this mess cleaned up immediately."
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"
"The Red Hessian Army won't know what happens here...Good night Princess." he stated calmly.
Without wasting a second he turned the pistol to 'Mr Princess' and a single gunshot rung out, a spray of blood, the falling of a body, small pieces of skull fragments accompanying the blood on it's journey towards the metal plating of the floor.
A small grin formed on his face, satisfied with the kill-shot downed the man easily, when the corpse fell to the floor Ben shouted "Cleanup in Office Two!", a moment later a pair of marines walked in, sneering at both the surviving applicants before dragging the corpse out of the office, a trail of blood following it...
"The Choice is made, now you must live with his death, moving on." he stated, lowering the pistol once more before continuing on.
"Now, for the questionable lady, three ships meet in deep space, a Insurgent of the Coalition, a Sabre of the Outcasts and a Titan of the Corsairs, which one is a greater threat?" he posed.
Heh, You shouldn't have done that Angie, you have just shot your Commodore. I was the same like him, thank god Commodore Bjorn was not so trigger happy. He waved to the two guards which immediately picked up the dead body and dragged it out.Carry on the good work Comrade.He strode out of the office Yelling out with his strong firm voice".DEX
"Sorry to interrupt, Lt. Commander... but there are Three ships... your sentence is grammatically incorrect... it should say 'Which of the three ships is...' I can arrange for some ESL lessons after the... umm..." She faltered, looking through the door at his unamused face.
"So... coffee then? Should I get some for the applicants?" She quickly got up and raced to the coffee dispenser, returning with three cups.
"One," she said putting it in front of Ben.
"Two... and three..." she nodded in satisfaction. "Basic math... usually a pre-requisite of the Fighter Corps... Though there was this one time Admiral Karchov was staring down five ships, and he kept insisting there was only two..." She smiled fondly. "Seconds later there was only two... moments after that he'd taken them all to school on the short yellow bus..."
She stopped, looking at Lt. Commander Warner's face... "getting out of your office, now... err... sir..."
Warner dint managed to hit siriusly the skull of Petko and he pass out doing his transfer to the morgue he woke up and told the 2 marines to take him to his odin were he went to the nearest Hessian base for treatment .
When the Commodore had arrived Kostya duly backed down, lest he be swept away...
... like the rest of the bodies that seemed to suddenly pour out of the hallway like a torrent.
He sat himself back down and tried to calm his nerves through sheer willpower.
Don't worry, he thought to himself, You know what you're doing. You're a citizen of the Coalition, you're no fool. You know the risks, you know the benefits, you know your duty. And your duty is to do everything you can for the cause. That's why you're here.
He took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.
He had no intention of joining the legion of the dead today.
* A Man walked into the Waiting room of the Recruitment office, like many more before him. He is roughly 5'4", and more than a bit wide about his waist. He is seemingly oh Rheinlandic Stock, and clothed in otherwise nondescript flight garments,and an overcoat, with the exception of a fine spray of blood on the left side of said coat. a Small hip Pack is at his side, and a rifle over his shoulder. He sits down slowly, as if he is vastly tired. Noticeing a Guard, He hands his weapon over to him, and takes a bottle of some drink out of hid hip pack, before handing that over as well.*
*the rifle itself is clearly a beloved weapon, bearing intensive bronzework, modification, and chisleing. It has two barrels, one over the other, Sheathed in Imitation Bronze. Furtherdown, an Authentic wood stock conceals the ammo chamber. " Annabelle" Is engraved on the butt plate. The weapon is well worn, but loveingly treated.*
* he sits patiently, as it seems that the office is awfully busy today, and there was already someone ahead of him.*
![[Image: Tyrael.gif]](http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20070319171309/diablo/images/a/a5/Tyrael.gif)
![[Image: overtrolltest.png]](http://i222.photobucket.com/albums/dd241/ghorvat5/overtrolltest.png)
![[Image: 5438_s.png]](http://signavatar.com/5438_s.png)
![[Image: userbarbulgaria.png]](http://img35.imageshack.us/img35/4886/userbarbulgaria.png)
![[Image: dimitrovifamily.png]](http://img413.imageshack.us/img413/1393/dimitrovifamily.png)
