Ben quickly moved his other hand once he saw him comming back up in a strike to his head, blocking the strike with his own Knife just before it made contact with his head. Ben also used the closeness to try to jam his right knee into the other man's stomach in an attempt to wind him and buy himself some time.
If Ben was concerned about this fight it did not show on his face, instead there was only cold calculating logic behind his eyes, evaluating, it is almost as if his cold gaze could peirce the soul of the applicant.
The man saw the Coalition Lieutenant perk up, he was about to kick him, seeing this the man leaped back just before he was about to hit. He could tell the Coalition officer was only playing with him, if the man was to survive, he would have to go along. The two men circled each other yet again... both analyzing each other's skill.
The man always carried a backup weapon, and knowing this he decided to try a trick that he had never done before. The man twirled his knife back into a straight gripped and flung it at the coalition liuetnanet, not a second after the knife flew he pulled out his backup, ready...
Recipient of the Hispania Memorium, Golden Fourragere, Halo of Valor, Order of the Red Star, and the Hero of the Revolution
"Excuse me for one moment, Pekkala." Vicenta raised her heavy revolver and fired one shot at Ryzkhov's retreating head, which was soon laminated all over the walls. "Tch. Filthy slavers. Now where were we...? Oh yes. 'Coalition through and through'. Please explain what you mean by that."
The frail old man waited in a small, cramped room not unlike those precursor to doctor visits. Over the course of several hours, he had waited more or less patiently, drifting in and out of a light sleep. Whenever his back pain worsened, a few pain pills washed down with a strange, purple liquid in a flask on his leg would provide some relief.
The other men and women in the room, few as they are, eyed him with curiosity. Old as he was, he made for a rather rare eyesore in any military organization. They saw him as one with the wreath of death wrapped around his neck; the Commissar's weapon already smoking over his crumpled body. As time passed, each of them was summoned, and seen no more. Sometimes they would vanish from the room only to be followed by the sound of a gunshot. Some fared better, and made their way elsewhere to a future of glorious service.
After the quantity of applicants had dwindled, the man looked down at his old, gnarled hands wryly. He turned the ring on his finger, eyes twinkling, recalling some distant chain of events with a soft smile. Turning his eyes to the door, he pondered his reasons for being here. Perhaps, if the Commissar was young and rash, he would be killed for his age alone. His life flashed, as it had so many times in the past, before his eyes. Shaking his head, however, he dismissed the notion. What would happen would happen, when the time came.
(Alexei screamed) I'm no Slaver, it's just my ship, that's all. - He moved his head to the side, but the bullet still hit him. - (still screaming) - I'm mostly supporting poor people with goods they have a hard time to come by --- He fell backwards against the wall and sunk to the floor.
Jayce rather nonchalantly walks into the recruiters office, carrying a six-pack of Rogue beer, and a Donut he had recently taken from an LPI officer. He flashes a look around the room, and the Secretary of Recruitment catches his eye...
"Howdy! Care for a drink? Alvin told me you were waiting for me." Jayce says as he sits down on the back of a cargo sled. "I hear this place is rough. Figure if it's my last drink, might as well share it with a pretty lady. I suppose you'll be wanting to search me before I go see the Commissar-Captain."
The secretary calls a Marine to do a pat-down search on Jayce, while he looks on with a bit of disappointment. The Marine pulls a pair of nail-clippers, some batteries, and some sort of rod-like device.
"Oh... That's... Err... That's nothing." Jayce says, as the secretary flashes a rather disapproving glance at him.
Now that the pat-down was over, Jayce again took his seat on the sled, and waited for his call from the Commissar-Captain.
Katz returned from his meeting in the radio room, a slightly distracted look on his face as he stepped over the freshly shot body of Ryzkhov and re-entered his Vicentas office. He took a moment to motion her aside to his desk, where he spoke in low tones, unclipping his laptop and gathering his files.
He pointed towards Pekkala, and spoke in rapid Russian, knowing that the applicant wouldnt be able to follow what was being said.
Turning slightly he motioned to the hall, where others were gathering. Again speaking in a low tone and nodding towards the Warbot.
Vicenta nodded her assent, as Katz reached into his drawer and pulled out two new rank epaulettes and gave them to her.
Congratulations Commissar-Commander recruitment is all yours now. I will be returning to Volgograd shortly
Comrade-Premier, Vicenta saluted in return, accepting the insignia.
Katz turned his head as Brooks entered the outer office, rolling his eyes.
You know Vicenta, he said switching to English. There are some bad pennies that just keep turning up He grabbed his black great coat and shrugged it on. Ill take the new comer, if you dont mind. Call it one last crack at recruitment before I am doomed to endless diplomatic functions and Duma sessions
He walked out into the outer office, the Warbot hissing and clanking along behind, charged with protecting the newly appointed Premier of the Coalition on his return journey to the Capital on Volgograd.
Brooks, he greeted with a smile as he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, handing one over to the Rogue, and lighting one himself. What in the name of hell are you doing here? He took a long pull on the cigarette and nodded to the Warbot. You know I should have Via here use you as a ping pong ball for that crap you used to pull back on Denver
He checked his pocket watch, look I have a Storm flight to catch, walk with me and well see if youre serious about this application.
"Been a long time since I smoked real Tobacco... Thanks." Jayce said as he followed the Commissar-Captain to the flight deck. "You know, in all honesty, I'm here for 2 reasons. The big one is that I'm just so sick and tired of all them jerk-offs down in Liberty... Especially those scum-sucking IND. Biggest losers I's ever seen, if you ask me. I mean, have you read their Identification cards? '...Richer than you... Prettier than you...' as soon as I read that, I went into a fit of laughter. The IND I was talking to was about the ugliest son of a gun I had ever seen. But I digress... *Begins whispering* I hear the people here are good with their hands, if you catch my drift. I've gotten a bit more flexible since that stunt on Denver... But let's get that behind us, shall we? So, how do I prove I'm serious? I can roll either way, if that's what you mean. That's not what you mean though, is it? I saw those two guys fightin' earlier, and I tell you what, I'm pretty good with a broken beer bottle..."
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