SCRA Recruitment Centre

[NixOlympica]

She walked out from the room, half dizzy. She made it. She's part of the Coalition now.

[Coke]

As Anton walks into the recruitment office, he starts looking around. He sees nothing but a crowd of people sitting and waiting. For the moment he thought that it'll be better to come back next day, but as soon as he caught himself thinking something like this, deep inside he cursed himself for thinking as weakling. He knew about deaths and tears during the recruitment conversation, so there's no place for weakness. Anton looked for any empty chair. After couple of minutes he realized there's nowhere to sit, so he just remained standing. Waiting. Waiting for something he was preparing for since his early years.

[equinosz]

As Simone was walking out the recruitment office with Amy behind her clutching to her notepad she saw another recruit waiting to be executed.

-Hey you there! Take the second door to the right and wait there! - she said to Anton - I'll send someone to take care of you.

Walking to the officer at the desk Simone asked him to contact Lea McGreave and order him to interrogation room number 4.

---

Research is to see what everybody else has seen, and to think what nobody else has thought.

[Coke]

Anton nods toward Amy showing gratitude (even if she did not paid much attention to that) and moves towards the room she told.

Anton closes the doors after himself and waits.

[Kazinsal]

"I am Pyotr Sevastyan Valentin, comrade general sir," the burly man said to General Garcia. "Am here to fight for people and ideals of Coalition to very last drop of blood, mine and enemies'. Am willing to put life on line for longevity and glory of Coalition."

Pyotr blinked.

"Am willing to do anything for Coalition. Is my born duty, comrade general sir."

---

Retired, permanently.

[Aphil]

Garcia looks at the man and nods with satisfaction.

"It's always a pleasure to meet a patriot. Where are you from and what did you do before deciding to join us?"

---

| Sirius Coalition | Information Centre  | Recruitment Centre | Visa Application | Communication Centre |

[Weras]

The woman sits on an office chair in her small bureau. She doesn't even look up when the recruit comes in. "Name, origin, why are you here?" she asks Anton, continuing to paint her fingernails.

---

[Weras]

Unsatisfied Lea finishes her nails. "Another mute? Or just lost your speech?" She grabs a gun from beneath the table and places it conveniently next to her. Then she puts her bare feet up on the table to paint her toenails aswell, still waiting for Anton to make a sound.

---

[Weras]

Lea sighs and shoots the recruit in the forehead. The blood and cerebral matter splatters onto the wall behind. "Guards?" She shouts right after that, cleaning her face with a towel, "would you be so kind to get the headless bastard out of here?".
"I'm sorry," she adds, "but we don't need soldiers that can't express themselves."

---

[Omega472]

The black, unpolished combat boots made heavy sounds as they collided with the metal beneath Adrik's feet, leaving a rhythmic thud to match his gait, back straight and arms well kept at his sides. The brown long coat that stretched to meet the tip of his boots was worn, and had obviously seen numerous battles. His face was rugged, a slight amount of stubble had gathered over his scars. The man's physical features played well for his expression, as he held a very serious, hard expression on his way to the waiting room. The solemn thuds stopped for a moment as he reached his destination, and moved at a slower pace to a nearby wall, where he chose to stand in waiting, crossing his arms behind his postured back. He kept his chin up, looking down as he inspected the other applicants, studying the crowd. A hint of pity touched his eyes, knowing some of these poor bastards would walk away unaccepted, and that they would be the lucky few of the rejects. He shifted his eyes to a rusty pocket watch he had nimbly slipped out of his coat pocket, and stared in quiet contempt for a moment, watching the hands tick quietly as the gears push them along.