Nodding slightly he smiled, slowly but surely he was getting to the heart of the matter, but he needed to see if she had the conviction...A smile came to his face as a plan came to mind. "Indeed...We do what is required to end such wars, to wage war ourselves in an attempt to stop all others and unite the people under the worker's banner...But I wonder..." he starts, turning around and walking over to the desk, reaching into the right drawer he pulls out a wicked-looking knife with two blades parallel to eachother. He thrusts it into her hands, knocking the Datapad out of her hands in the process.
As he stared her in the eyes he frowned. "One who is willing to fight for a cause must be willing to take a life...So...Kill...Or I will have you shot and flushed out the airlock, there will be nobody to remember you...Nobody to mourn you...Kill...Or be killed..." he orders, his voice turning harsher with every word spoken.
"A Revolutionary Acts...A Slave doesn't!" He states coldly before shouting. "NOW KILL!"
Cassie weighed up the blade as Warner told her what she was to do, then he shouted. She panicked, closing her eyes, she lashed out with the blade, turning on the spot a little as she did so.
Her blade did not meet Warner, perhaps she missed. She didn't want to die though, so she lashed out once more, thrusting away in Warner's direction.
With practiced ease Ben avoids the blind lash of the blade, mentally 'rolling his eyes up' at her inexperience, however his eyes widened when she struck a second time, unexpected...The swipe caught him on his right arm, causing a moderate laceration to his upper arm, a thin coat of blood now upon the blade.
Backing away quickly he caught her arm with his unharmed one and squeezed tightly, hitting a pressure point that forces her to drop the knife. "Enough, I've seen enough...At least you posses the will to act if not the training..." he states in his previous 'friendly' voice, releasing the arm quickly and stepping back towards the glass, examining his new wound with slight humor in his eyes before he nods "It is good you are willing to do what must be done, however next time keep your eyes open, you tend to hit your target more and see counters with them open." he advised her, tearing the bottom part of his right sleeve off and tying it around the wound so he wouldn't bleed out.
"Now, don't you feel strong...You've drawn blood and haven't fainted like the weak hearted fools we get here often, pick up that data pad and tell me, are you willing to do so again with your eyes open and for the people who suffer under the one you fight?" he asks seriously, humor now gone from his voice.
Nodding in satisfaction he sits down, cradling his wounded arm and preventing it from bumping into the desk. "Very good, I have a-couple more questions and than we will be done, so in the interests of time i'll make this brief." he states, calmly putting his glasses back on as if nothing had happened before. "My questions are thus; What do you know of the Coalition and are you willing to go through Hellish Fighter Training to preserve it?" he asks, calmly waiting for her answer.
Cassie scrolled through the various menus of the Data Pad, pulling up a large databank filled with details of the Coalition, with this, she could read all about the Coalition, though she'd actually have to learn to read first, of course.
She then pulled up her notepad once more, typing out a response to the second part of the question,
"Very well, you shall get your chance, however by the time your training is finished I will have a task for you, you fail in it, you die, the Coalition is no place for those who cannot do a job, even a simple one, properly." He states before standing up.
"I will be your instructor, I am no desk jockey, when my Fighter Pilots need me I am beside them, fighting along side them, let this be my promise, I will not forsake you nor any other member of the Fighter Corps." he states before waving her off "I will have a ship made ready for you, I will contact you on S.K.Y.P.E. protocols should you have access to it...Do not fail me or the Premier."
A rusty Mafic docks at the Trotsky. A man Comes Out with a Big Folder of Comm logs and Documents of Flying time and Images .It was Rachkov who was Finisht with his task.
He enterd the recruitment waiting room and one of the soldiers told him to knock right at the door
Rachkov knock at the door of Khan's Office and he sitted down waiting for somebody to Open the door
Khan was just opening a sandwich when Alica poked her head around his door.
"Commissar, that recruit is back... three days early..." She said, sounding... nervous.
Khan blinked.
"Which one?"
"Rachkov," Alicia replied.
"Well tell him to bloody well do it again," Khan snapped. "Tell him to keep doing it until his three days are up, I don't want to see, or hear from him until then!"
He tossed his cucumber sandwich down in disgust, rising from his chair. "Who is next?" he asked... spotting another recruit. "Come inside, sit... and tell me..." He rubbed his temples. "No, better yet... show me, why you want to join the Coalition!"
Teresa walked through to where the Commissar stood. She stood straight, looking at the commissar with an practiced, respectful gaze.
"Why do I want to join the Coalition? For change. I have realised what is wrong with the houses...realised it through my own flesh."
She slipped the leather jacket off, a plain, black, short-sleeved top on underneath. Her right arm was covered in a white bandage.
She reached over and undid the top of the bandage, near her shoulder, revealing a crimson burn that stretched down her arm and up under the shirt, leading the question of how far the burns stretched.
"I worked as a mercenary for a few years...I took people's lives for a credit. One day, I decided to show mercy, and I was punished for it."
She redid the bandage, slipping her leather jacket back on.
"The capitalist governments don't want to 'help' people. They just want to crush down anyone in their way...I realised that when they attempted to shoot me down. They just want control."
She paused for breath, looking over to the commissar to see if he had anything to say.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
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