Cthulhu Tech; Aeon War 1; Shadows of Munich

[Nerd-o-rama]

"It's not what you did, man," Erik says to the empty room. "It's the gleam in your eye when you talk about it. Maybe in another century, when there were people called Commissars..."

Shaking his head, he opens the intercom again. "Lieutenant Liry, please."

[Ascension]

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The voice of sleep deprivation is telling me to put her in a Lunamaria-homage pink miniskirt. I'm doing my best to avoid listening to it.

Liry's hair has grown since her file photo was taken. It is currently pulled back in a utilitarian ponytail. She is dressed neatly in compliance with regulations. She has placed a couple of minor service awards prominently on display, and judging from the way she sticks her chest out while standing at attention she is either trying to make sure you notice them or trying to enhance the effect of her modestly endowed figure.

She salutes.

"You wished to see me, sir?"

[Nerd-o-rama]

Erik salutes back, resisting the urge to adjust his sunglasses downward and peer over them. "At ease. Just wanted to do a quick interview of everyone applying for this pilot position. Now, your dossier doesn't really tell me much...bunch of stuff classified above my level that I won't bother you about. You're a support gunner, which is great; personally, I kinda opted out of that training in pilot school, and our other Sword guy is a stealth/recon specialist, so that's points up for you."

He flips Vulture's folder closed and looks her in the eye. "Really, the only question I have is what you did to get assigned to this unit of loonies and misfits. Our current pilots are all either nuts or in disciplinary trouble, including me. You seem pretty normal, so I'm curious what brought you here."

[Ascension]

"Bad luck, sir, to be honest," she replies.

Her eyes drop to the floor and she seems to deflate somewhat. The pride evident as she entered the room is gone now.

"I've served with three combat units in the past two years. I've been the only survivor of three combat units in the past two years. If I'm here... well, someone must want you dead, sir."

[Nerd-o-rama]

Erik smiles. "Ha, is that it? You're a jinx? It sounds to me like you're just very good at surviving otherwise fatal situations. Personally, I don't believe in luck on the battlefield. Chance, sure, but that's just another word for probability."

"Well, like I said, I like to keep this kind of thing short. Do you have anything else you think is important to say, or any questions about our unit?"

If her big personality flaw is uncanny survivals, I think I hit the jackpot. Okay, her big flaw is probably survivor guilt, but I can deal with that.

[Ascension]

She meets your eyes... or glasses, rather... again.

"If I may be so bold, sir... what role does this unit serve? I've fought Dagonites, I've fought Migou... but this base... we're comfortably behind the front lines. All the front lines. What are we doing here, sir?"

[Nerd-o-rama]

"Well, that's a damn good question, and I think most of it is classified above you unless we actually recruit you, but the short version is special operations," Erik explains. "We're not in the trenches, we dash out to the other side of them and hit the bad guys where they need to be hit, then dash back. Our jobs are the dangerous, tricky stuff. As opposed to just the dangerous stuff which you get on the lines. And I'm afraid that's more than I really ought to tell you," he concludes.

"Anyway, thanks for your time. Someone'll let you know shortly if you'll be joining or not."

[Ascension]

"Thank you, sir," she replies.

She turns and walks away, the back of her head concealing her smile.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Erik stretches a bit and polishes his sunglasses before calling for Lieutenant Hara over the intercom.

[Ascension]

Hara looks even younger in person than in his photo... almost like a child dressed as a pilot for Halloween. Of course, Halloween hasn't quite been the same since the horrors of reality outstripped those of fiction...

A hearty "Sir!" accompanies his crisp salute.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Erik returns the salute in the same casual manner as to the other two. This time, he does look over his glasses. "What's the story behind the unit insignia there? You're younger than me, and I was still failing out of college when that unit was active."

[Ascension]

"History," he replies. His Nazzadi accent is so thick it comes across as a parody, and, in fact, it must be. At his age English must have been his first language. The accent he's faking hearkens back to the end of the invasion, when the Nazzadi were still alien, still threatening.

"In the interest of fostering cooperation the majority of us, Human and Nazzadi, have tried to forget the darker parts of our shared history. We've tried to put it behind us, to move on. While that last part is an admirable goal... to move on... I think we have prioritized the forgetting to a point at which it becomes detrimental to us."

His English vocabulary is too large for a Nazzadi with that heavy an accent, for one thing. If his grasp on standard pronunciation was truly as weak as he pretends it to be, his grasp on the rest of the language would be weak as well.

"I have committed myself to remembering my people's history while all the world forgets it. The markings on my flesh help me to remember. My body is a chronicle of our deeds."

[Nerd-o-rama]

"I can get wanting to preserve history - I'm German, I know what everyone around you being in denial about a historical war is like - but, uh, do you think you're maybe clinging to the past a bit?" Erik asks.

It's like I'm eight years old and looking at the Prussian helmets in dad's study again, only this guy's walking around.

[Ascension]

"People keep saying that..." Hara replies, a little dejectedly.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Why do I feel like I just kicked a puppy?

"Anyway, your dossier shows you're a pretty damn good pilot. What's your field experience, if you don't mind me asking. You were posted to Nazza-Duhni...see much action from the Frogs down there?"

[Ascension]

This may be the first time you've seen a pureblooded Nazzadi blush.

"I, uhh, mostly served as an honor guard, sir. Escorted politicians, marched in parades, that sort of thing. I've put in a lot of simulator time, though. And, well... I fought a Leviathan once. Um... that's why I'm here, sir, actually. I didn't exactly win... but my commander said simply surviving was an accomplishment, given the circumstances. So there's that, sir."

[Nerd-o-rama]

"Well, he's right," Erik says. "I've never fought a Leviathan, but all reports say they're right nasty bastards. Hm. Well, that's all I really need to know, I think. Someone should get back to you very shortly. Any questions for me?"

[Ascension]

"She, sir," Hara says, half smiling, "She's right. The Colonel is a lot of things, but she's not a man. And no, no further questions, sir. Good day."

Hara turns and leaves.

[Nerd-o-rama]

Erik leans back, putting his boots up on the desk as he thinks.

One nutcase, one probably one ally death away from being a nutcase, and a greenhorn nerd. I love the goddamn Army sometimes.

"And not one of them asked me why I was wearing sunglasses indoors," he laments, settling the chair down and standing up, removing said glasses as he leaves and heads back to the "receptionist" to return the files. "I've made my decision. Who do I pass it on to?"