A man walked past, taking little notice of the storm of bullets smashing into the water fountain, save to duck He did notice the worker with the new sign. After reading it, he turned around and ran in the direction of his room.
As he turned the corner into his room, which was a shared sleeping area, he tripped on a broken piece of tile, and smashed his face into the ground. He got back up. And ran into the room, with blood streaming down his face, from a nasty gash on his forehead.
He quickly gathered up a handful of objects, and shoved them into his bag.
After checking that he had forgotten nothing, he turned to run back to the recruiting office, but was blocked by his friend.
"Whats up john?" asked his friend. John considered telling his friend, he decided against it, because his friend would also want to become a fighter pilot. "Err... I need to go see a friend." john lied. "Right" said his friend, who continued to block his way.
John punched him, hard.
As his former friend doubled over in pain, john stepped over, and walked away.
After leaving the room, john began to run. As he ran, he put on his low profile armor.
As he walked into the recruitment office, he was greeted quietly by the repairman tasked with replacing the door, who stared at the blood still trickling from the gash on his forehead.
"Err, i'm here to apply to the fighter corps." john said.
"I err... John was slightly intimidated by the recruitment officer.
"My name is john Birmingham; I was recruited from planet Cambridge six years ago. After hearing about the coalition, I managed to find agents of the coalition on Cambridge, who were tasked with finding other recruits. I have tried to fight the oppressors on Cambridge, but was unable to do much, given that I knew I could not evade the police if I struck at anything important."
After waiting a moment for the recruitment officer to respond, he continued.
"I have spent time in the simulators, and have worked as ground crew on some of our fighter craft. I believe that I can serve the revolution better by piloting a ship, sir."
"If you want me to fill any forms out, then tell me, and I will fill them out as soon as I can. But I think that it would be a waste for both of us to spend our time on that, sir."
John wiped the blood of his face, and waited for the recruiter to respond.
' Wrote:<span style="font-family:Century Gothic">Violence is Golden</span>
