0230 Hours Room 267, East Wing, Freeport 2, Bering Sector
Wham!
With a resounding crash, the doors of the room blew open, revealing a massive set of matte-black battle armour, bristling with weapons. A Red Star gleamed from the breastplate, and a glaringly white searchlight speared from the left hand.
"On your feet, scum!" Shouted the armoured figure. "Zachary Quirm?" Inquired the suited monster in the doorway.
"Ye-yessir! What's going o-" Spluttered the man on the floor, clutching his bedclothes.
"HEY!" Boomed the figure. "I'm Major Bigeard, Sirius Coalition Marines, and I'll be asking the bloody questions around here! Right then!" He turned, and gestured another, smaller figure into the room, setting the wreckage of the door back in its frame behind him. With a flick of the switch, the lights came on, and the Marine Major leaned against it.
The smaller, unarmoured figure was clad in the midnight black dress uniform of the SCRA, festooned with medal ribbons, and carrying a massive sidearm. His nametag read "Weise", and he bore the stripes of a commander. One trained in the decorations of the Coaliton would notice that he bore three small red stars, declaring him to be a three-time winner of the coveted "Hero of the Revolution". He smiled.
"Comrade, don't be so scared... we're just here to talk."
Zachary smiled, and began to rise from the floor, when Commander Weise grabbed him by the neck, pressed the sidearm to his temple, and began screaming in his ear.
"Are you a Spy?!"
"Wha-"
"SPIES! I KNEW it! I'll bloody KILL you, you slimy little sack of filth!"
"Hey! No, I'm no-"
"SPY!" Weise cocked the pistol, then slammed the butt into the unfortunate applicant's head. "Major!"
"Sir?" Bigeard stepped forward, lifting the minigun in his right hand like a toy.
"Lend me your knife there..."
With a grim chuckle, the massive marine tossed his 14" combat knife to his old friend. Weise grabbed it by the hilt, holstered his pistol, threw the semi-consious Zackary onto his bed, and stuck the top inch of the fighting knife up his nose.
"Now, Spy! Tell me who sent you!"
"I'm not a-" babbled Zachary, quivering with fear.
"SPY! I Bloody HATE Spies! I'm going to stick this ENTIRE knife up your nose if you don't tell me everything!"
"I'm not a spy! I swear it!"
A slow smile spread across Weise's face. "Are you sure?"
"Yessir! Positive!"
Weise removed the knife, and tossed it over his shoulder to Bigeard. Drawing his pistol with a flourish, he fired a barrage of .65 slugs into the wall behind Zachary's head, showering him in paint and chips of the bulkhead.
"Right! Training starts tommorow. Welcome to the revolution son!"
Weise turned as bigeard kicked down the door again, and as they both left, Zachary wondered what kind of crazy people did things like this. More gunshots echoed down the hall, and Zachary heard Weise yelling something about maintainence workers. 'Did he just shoot someone just for wearing orange coveralls? Oh, god...'
Jack Handey Wrote:I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
