SCRA Recruitment Centre

[ronald245]

hmm, seeing you i think i've got a long journey ahead... the recruit said
walking to the counter of the commisar's secretary he notices how the other recruits look in awe to the man who just stormed out of the commisar's office

(now talking to the secretary) miss, could you please inform the commisar that a new batch of recruits has arived?

[mtjsmith]

Vladimir stepped outside his room and borrowed the "Gone to Lunch" sign from Commissar Mendal's room.

"Alica my dear, I hear there is an exquisite chicken salad being prepared."

He twirled the shotgun around in his arms.

"The rest of you, all this work has given me quite an appetite. Alica, lock the blast door. Oh and duck."

The secretary, after years of experience in the recruitment sector, did as she was told.

*CLICK*, BANG, *CLICK*, BANG, *CLICK*, BANG

Once all the remaining recruits were dealt with in an efficient manner. Vladimir briskly strode off down the corridor. He heard some moaning behind him.. It seemed someone was still alive.

"Oh, who doesn't have the common courtesy to die when told?! HMM?!"

Silence.

"I thought not."

Vladimir turned on his heel and threw a grenade behind his head.

*BOOM*

---

[ronald245]

as soon as he saw the commisar walking in with the shotgun his nerves were working overtime... noticing everything around him as soon as the commisar said the word duck he dove behind the steel bench he had been sitting on.. when the grenade exploded he felt something warm on his leg... a part of the bench had shattered and hit his leg.. as stubborn as he was he ripped off the shirt of one of the other dead recruits and bandaged the leg...

he then went to sit on one of the other benches that hadnt been ripped apart. waiting for the commisar to show up

[mtjsmith]

Alica stepped out from behind her desk. Unlike the recruits, she had been fully protected. She shouted down the hall.

"Commissar Kurkov, we still have one breathing"

"I'll have to put off that Chicken Salad then. I do hope Mendal hurries up with that last recruit or the whole damn ship will have eaten before we have."

He headed back to where the recruit was laying, in a puddle of his own blood - still apparently breathing.

"Recruitment denied."

*CLICK*, BANG, *CLICK*, BANG, *CLICK*, BANG

Vladimir riddled the recruit full of holes from the shotgun, blowing off both arms, legs and the boys head.

"Fetch one of those Kusari Trashcompacters."

Alica produced one which was handedly built into the wall. The remains of the recruit were crushed into a small cube and ejected into space.

"Seal the door and switch off the transmitter. That's enough. Ooh. My stomachs rumbling."

The only noise left in the waiting area was that of the Commissars belly rumbling.

---

[arvg]

Mendel waggled his hand, listening to the grenade going off in the main reception.

"Not a bad rendition, but I think it will need some work. I am going to sign you up for the Red Army choir, which you will take part in... AFTER your successful completion of Stage two." He produced a set of papers. "Go and fill these out. When you are done, report back to me."

---

[Bjorn]

Leif looked around the waiting room, as an explosion rocked the bulkhead he was propped against. Small trickle of blood passing under half closed door, and stench of fired weapons, burning cloth, blood and gore wafting trough the area.

There he sat, with half finished papers looking at other survivors, pondering what lies behind each exterior.

There was him of course... son of an commemorated and long retired coalition officer. His foot still throbbed from pain. But he dared not show any of it.

Across the room was burly fellow, named Kasimierz. He would most certainly fit an marine or maintenance crew member description. Certainly not someone to cross easily.

Limping as well, from nasty gun shot wound, Dasha has just stepped out of the commissars office, with papers non the less. Seems only female to pass the rigors of the dreaded representatives of the party. She might end up secretary before she even makes it to the cockpit... ah well, at least an eyecandy cant hurt now and then.

Finally he took an measure of Nikolai, grinning young man in fancy suit. He didnt feel like an pilot either... maybe he was shooting for an career as diplomat, or politician. Who knows... slimy looking at best... he would look more suited for an libertonian company representative than one of the coalition. But, its commissars choice. Odd as it is.

With that Leif would simply nod to the trio politely and return back to his papers, wishing to fill them out as best as he could.

---

ISS-Zapotec

[mayu20]

She was looking at the door with fear thinking that the ship was attacked, but it was the Commisar who trew a grenade and killed all others in that room.

Comrad Commisar, I don't want to be a singer. If I wanted that I would gone to the music school in one of those capitalists pigs planets. I want to serve in the Peoples Army. I want to make a good for our peoples. And I doub that singing will make any good. Me being in Red Army choir is still fills me with honor since even that is better that most of any others choirs around. I don't want to get killed on a stage for not singing good, If I want to die, I would want to die defending my comrades, comrad commisar.

Then she took the papers and went to fill them, since it was a order from the commisar, and that bullet hole made her think the commisar is not jokeing with no one so the last thing she would want is to make the commisar even angry that he was before.

---

My Media

[arvg]

Relieved that the chaos was once again over, Mendel returned to the coffee pot, picking bits of shrapnel out of the coffee grounds as he remade the pot, looking at the weary, battered looking recruits as they tried frantically to get the foil wrap off of their documents.

He chuckled maliciously, as he glanced at Alicia. "I see these muppets have the standard brain capacity required for the fighter corps. I supposed I should look on the bright side, I don't have to raise my already considerably low expectations, it would make things expensive at Christmas time..."

Alicia looked at last years Christmas card from the commissar, pinned to the cork-board, a picture of Mendel done up like the Grinch pointing at the holder. "Merry Christmas you half-witted bastard child of a Primusian Moncheechee monkey and a rock with a smiley face painted on it."

"Yes, I can see how that would get expensive," she muttered dryly. "Though it would save you on the yearly Christmas bonus of coal..."

"Fuel is very expensive on Volgograd these days," Mendel retorted. "That lump should have kept you warm for at least half an hour... ingrate."

---

[Nikov]

*Encryption Enabled*
*Comm Channel Opened*
*Sending Transmission*

From Vladimir Nikov
Comm Id: Vladimir Nikov

Хорошо сэр день. Меня зовут Владимир Ников. У меня есть две сестры и больная мать, отец Василий умер Ников на дежурстве, он работал в качестве разведчиков для Красной Армии. Теперь я хочу, чтобы следовать его footstepts в честь нашего великого народа и для того, чтобы кормить оставшихся семьи.

*Translating in english*
*Translation complete*

Good day sir. My name is Vladimir Nikov. I have two sisters and a sick mother, my father Vasili Nikov died on duty, he worked as a scout for the Red Army. Now I want to follow his footstepts in honour of our great nation and in order to feed my remaining family.

------------
Name: Vladimir Nikov
Gender:Male
Age:18
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 165
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color:Blue
Military Background: --------------------------
Ship experience: -------------------------
Favorite Color:Red
-------------

"Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of the men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory."

For the Coalition ! For the Motherland !

*Ending Transmission*
*Comm Channel Closed*
*Encryption Disabled*

[Aphil]

On the bridge of the Trotsky, the light indicating an incoming transmission began to blink.

"General Rhade, we have an incoming transmission."

Rhade stared at the communications officer.

"Well? What are you waiting for, play it."

The communications officer sprang to life, playing the message from Vladimir Nikov. General Rhade was, of course, not amused.

"Execute the Muppet Virus."

The Communications Officer nodded his head in acknowledgement, and the "Muppet Virus" as Rhade liked to call it was slipped into the reply message sent back to Nikov.

As soon as Nikov checked the reply message, his console exploded, covering his face in white hot plasma, quite literally melting his face and eyes.

"Let that be a lesson to that muppet." Rhade proclaimed, now satisfied, he resumed standard operations.

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