Office of the Rear Admiral

[Tomtomrawr]

Miller sighed. Heavily. The last time he'd been treated with this much suspicion had been during his recruitment, when the recruitment officer ordered five armed guards to constantly keep him in their sights. It'd taken three hours to convince them he was not a spy working for his father, Arthur Miller, who was a businessman working with BMM in the mining of water in Cambridge.

'Must we do this, Admiral?' He finally said. He needed to show confidence. No fear, no hesitation. 'Although it is a good question. Why should you trust me? I'm sure you would have much preferred to meet with Commissar Mendel and this entire trust issue would not be a question. But he sent me instead.

'Why did he send me? Because I have proven my worth to the Coalition. I have proven I can be trusted.' He pushed a hand into his jacket pocket, and came out with a small piece of paper, folded neatly. 'Twenty names. Marines who joined Scott's coup and who I had to deal with. I was trusted with this duty by General Alvarez because I had proven myself trustworthy.'

He wasn't even thinking now. He was just talking, words bottled up for months now being released, as if the dam had burst. 'My father told me that when men can no longer trust each other's word, we will descend into savagery. I'm a Bretonian; we value the strength and trust of ours words far more than our tea or crumpets or whatever other stereotype you see Bretonians with. I always keep my word, even if it kills me. There is no reason for you to trust my words, just know I take the value of my words to be a very serious matter. If my words are considered as lies then my strength is gone.'

One final thing to say crossed his mind. He raised himself, forgetting the cane, and patted his chest with the flat of his hand twice. 'There is no gun hidden under my jacket. No bomb ready to blow you up. Just scars from my survival training on JiangXi, in another relentless test of my loyalty.' Another final thing, he found it hard to stop. He was on a roll. 'The Coalition mistrusted me when I arrived at their recruitment office on the Trotsky in Coronado at the time. It took me three hours of talking to finally convince them to lower their weapons. I certainly hope this situation will not take longer to diffuse. I may be good with words in certain cases, but it doesn't mean I like being in the situations which hold such high stakes. Success or death.' He sat back down, his anger vented, and breathed out heavily.

---

[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.

Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.