SCRA Recruitment Centre

[Inquisitor Gaunt]

The Newcastler tracked the incoming Praefect, his body bracing subconsciously against the chair as he answered, half-wincing at the barrel's presence.

"First thing y'gonna need is a cause..."
The Praefect edged closer, the gun's readout marking it at just over five K's from a viable striking distance.
"Y'ain' gonna have no people t'work with'ya unless you give 'em a reason, could be like 'ow those Kusari babes do it, n'fight for a specific group's right, like women..."
Four K's
"Or it could be like m'old lot, the Mollys, fightin' for miners, a job instead'a somethin' you're given since birth, though 'ow we were, bein' a miner is something y'get from birth."
Three K's
"Then y'gonna need a reasonable line'a supply. Y'ain't gonna have no one stand a'side ya if y'can't show y'able to help 'em, eh?"
Two K's
"Not that I'm sayin' supporters are just there f'your goods, mind. Kinda brings y'back to the first point, gotta have a cause, one people are gonna' legitly follow..."
One K
"And a'course y'need people t'follow that cause, t'stand alongside ya' when everything goes tits up.."
Firing range. Simon didn't hesitate as soon as the cruiser sunk into his cross-hairs. The pulse guns whined as they discharged their shots, static rippling along the opposing vessel's shields as the round wrapped its way around them. He gritted his teeth, snatching back again and again on the trigger as the weapon recycled...

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