Ben calmly picked up the pistol, inspecting it for any dirt or grime on the surface, standing up slowly while still examining the pistol he walked around the applicant, his tone calm and even.
"Interesting, however we don't fight for honor Mr Tamos." he explained, raising the pistol to the back of the man's head, but not pulling the trigger.
"We fight for the people who are oppressed, honor has nothing to do with this, we are not the Blood Dragons, we are the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army, the Combat Arm of the Federal Socialist Republic of the Coalition!" He shouted, pushing the barrel of the gun into the back of the man's head, letting him know he meant business.
"What do you know of these things?!" he continued, his eyes showing hints of anger, tempered by cold logic thought patterns and determination. "When you see the poor, the sick, the weak, do you feel pity for them or do you feel anger at their plight, that nobody in the Governments are willing to help these people?!" He shouted, pushing the barrel harder into the back of his head, his TT-33 having significant pressure upon the head now, he would definitely know it was there, if he didn't he had nerve damage. "What of those who are oppressed by the very corporations they work for with their unsavory conditions and being forced to work faster and harder for very few benefits?!" he growled softly, rotating the pistol so the hilt of the gun was sideways instead of towards the floor.
"Answer me Mr Tamos!" was all he said, the questions posed...Now he must choose his answers wisely...Or face the wrath of Ben's TT-33 Combat Pistol...
