Christina brought her arrow class ship in line with the CPW-Trotski, Her arrow was damaged quite badly, and she was too afraid to crash into the Trotski with her ship, she launched her escape pod "There is no returning now".
Natalya brought her escape pod into the landing bay, exited it, and saw how the crew man take it, a quite big man looked at her: "We can always use more escape pods" and went on.
Christina went to the recruitment office, set near the door taking a rest before going in. She had a small file with her, from her previous jobs, just incase someone would care. she went over the files again, after she was sure that they were organised, she entered the room, she gave a small look at it, from the enterance before entering, as she sat down, she knew that her files won't be needed. "Uhem, Hello, I...ammm.. *she took a deep breath*Christina Cohen, I am here to serve the idiology."
Hunter remembered the one lesson he had had hammered into him throughout his life; even if you know the person you are speaking to you is superior in every way, do not show fear. Perhaps your confidence may throw them off balance and allow you to gain the upper hand. He figured the same applied to verbal confrontation as it did to physical confrontations.
"Yes, that is my name sir."
Polite yet assertive. Hopefully a safe tone to adopt.
"Comrade-General, we have a transmission from ... someone called Joker's-Thug Minmey...." the comm officer handed Alvarez the data sheet.
Alvarez scanned it, before handing it back.
"Contact Minmey and invite him aboard the Trotsky... and inform the marines to tighten security. Let us see what he wants, and what he is willing to do to join the Coalition, si?"
The engine gave a light splutter. The thruster failed and the ship began to glide in open space. "Bloody thing" he muttered. Leroy Baker violently kicked the ship,
slightly breaking the plastic cover of the dashboard. The engine argued with the thruster and it lazily started up again.The CPW-Trotsky was just ahead, Leroy took one final massive draw from his cigarette, he quickly put it out on the broken dashboard as he slowly began to dock with the CPW-Trotsky. He was half worried that the ships engines would fail mid-dock and cause quite an explosion.
When he successfully docked he wasn't quite sure to be grateful or not that he was alive and well on a Coalition ship. He had heard many rumors about the notoriously selective recruitment procedure.
After he clambered his way out from the metal mess he called a ship, He begrudgingly trudged his way over to the waiting room. Never had a room been so well named, he thought, as he began the longest wait of his already rather long life.
Koniev looked utterly disinterested as the fresh applicant walked into his office and greeted him. He picked up the mug sitting on the table next to him, and frowned when he realized he was out of coffee.
"Veronica, I could use a fresh cup of coffee. Erm, Alicia. Oh whatever."
He sifted through the stack of dossiers on his table and picked out Nickoli's."
"Right, Nickoli..." he trailed off as he noticed another applicant barge into the room.
"Who the frack are you and why are you in this office when your name wasn't called?" He yelled at Boris's general direction, his face reddening with rage by the second.
Hunter took a deep breath and thought carefully about his next few words. His story was long but very bland, large sections being melded into one monotonous mass.
"Well... I was raised in the Texas system, in a rough neighbourhood on one of the many cities culminating in the massive sprawl that is the surface of Planet Houston," he started, "For my first nine... Ten years? Everything was- well, as fine as you could get in those days. Food was scarce and money was short but we always managed to find a way to survive."
"Typically, by scavenging. However, one these runs we tended to encounter competition. And competition for survival breeds hatred like no other. I was forced to learn to harm in order to gain ever last scrap or morsel. By the age of eleven I was fighting boys of the ages of thirteen, or fourteen. Against that kind of opposition you either learn fast or get out of the heat. And sadly, there was no option to get out of the heat for me."
"This continued on until I was about seventeen," his tone became more serious, "by then. the nomad wars were occurring, albeit it was not known at the time. Tax increases came about, and money and food were even more scarce."
He took another deep breath here, and made note of the amount of guns in visible in the room. One on the Major's desk, and he also guessed the Major's compatriot had one as she was the one who seemingly shot the last person to waltz on into this office. Two total.
"I started looking for a job. All were revolved around the harm of others, whether for good or for bad reasons. Some came and went, like bodyguarding, and being a bouncer. But by far the most horrific was being, for lack of a better word, a 'thug'. Coercing others into believing my employer's viewpoint. But sooner or later I accepted the fact that I was earning money, and that was all that mattered."
"I was not afraid to harm others in order to continue the survival of my family and I."
"Before long I got greedy. Beating up people for a living soon transpired into petty theft, major theft, and ultimately, stealing spacecraft."
"The years passed, I honed my basic navigational skills in these spacecraft in solitude. I was still too poor to afford lessons. My father and mother both passed away. They lived relatively long, it could be thought. Fifty was well past the life expectancy for our district. I was thirty by then. With nothing left for me on that damned planet, I decided to set out and explore space."
"My natural affinity for crime is what drew me into them. I joined, or was forced, depending on your viewpoint, into the Liberty Rogues. I worked for them, furthering my piloting skills but ultimately learning how to kill. After a while, this lifestyle no longer suited me. I wouldn't say my departure was peaceful, but I certainly got out of there alive."
"I began to work as a mercenary. Killing was all I had done up until then, so I decided to continue it. The pay was better than anything I could imagine and before I knew it I had an unbelievable ship and a devastating array of weaponry. They were four codename class weapons, by the designation "TWILIGHT". I had these mounted on my ship at all times. I even adopted the name Twilight for a while, but I soon abandoned it as it seemed a it... Childish."
"And so my work as a mercenary continued, up until I got bored with that lifestyle as well. Commitment to a cause is something I find hard, but within the Coalition I should be able to amend this flaw. And now, my story trails off here, sitting in front of you, Major."
He ended his speech, exhaling a quiet sigh of relief.
Christina gazed at the comissar for a second then quickly slipped through the door, saying sorry sir!
Taking her seat outside the door, Christina restored her breath, slowly, saying to herself "Don't worry Christina, you will do okay, you will do okay..." Christina releaxed, and took out a book, it was a new edition of "Peace And War" and began to read, waiting for her turn.
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