Samuel Rackham
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Posted - 2006.02.10 17:59:00 -
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The bald headed Civire burst into the men's room as the door swung open to slap the wall, a Peace and Order Unit overcoat unbuttoned, officer's cap in his left hand. The tiled floor responded with a screech as his boots turned swiftly to face himself toward the stalls, and then to come to an abrupt stop. As he waited, his ears tuned in for any breathing noises of any sort. The ballroom music from outside the door faded as the door made contact with its frame again. The near silence was good enough for him to assume no one else was present.
His boots effortlessly turned around again, to face the sinks and mirrors. A wave of relaxation came over him when he saw his own face, then another one of fear as he recognized his own uniform. The second wave overpowered most of his other senses, so much as to nearly drift over in shock, the Civire took action as he threw the cap a nearby mirror and went to a different sink, leaning in as he turned the faucet. A splash of water hit his face as his hands almost involuntarily did their work. A second splash, as his hands and fingers took the time to rub down his eyes, to scrub away at whatever nonexistant filth was there.
As he felt the filth was off, he looked up at the uniformed figure in the mirror.
Is this who I want to be?
The bald-headed Civire on the other side closed in, looking him in the eyes with an dubious look on his face. Both sets of brown eyes trailed from each other, to each other's uniforms, and to the cap sitting alone in the corner, and finally to rest by closing their eyelids, only to greet a daydream.
The atmosphere changed suddenly, the ballroom music dispersed into silence. The air felt thicker as the cold water dried instantaneously from his face. His eyelids flicked open, his vision only to be greeted with a large metallic door with the Sukuuvestaa logo. Peering down, he recognized his Caldari Independent Navy Reserve uniform, commander's pins holding firm on his shoulders. The doors slid open, a small desk topped off with nearly no paperwork of any kind. A metal block with a name carved into the front stood at the front, the SuVee logo trailing the surname, and the Peace and Order Unit logo preceding the entirety.
Ihamailen Bassunen.
"Commander! So I see you've made your way to my office."
The commander approached slowly, eyeing the name on his desk as the clean-shaved, dark haired Civire behind it pulled a datapad out from a drawer.
"The name's Bassunen. I'm one of the personnel managers here at the Peace and Order Unit. We process any possible recruits or any pod-pilots interested in some freelance work."
The commander fidgeted in his uniform as he heard the second phrase.
Is this what this entire thing was about?
"I'm not interested in any work--"
Bassunen took this opportunity to glance at the datapad in his hand, smirking slightly at what he saw.
"Oh, I know. You already work for the Navy. But you're in a tight spot, Commander. From what I understand, you lost nearly a hundred million ISK in a bet on the Splinterz tournament.."
The commander's jaw opened to speak, only to be interrupted again.
"..to a SuVee employee."
That son of a..
The commander retained a stern look and still stood at attention. A method nearly all military pesonnel use when under pressure.
"We'll let you keep that money, on a few terms.."
A splash of cold water hit the commander's face as his hands involuntarily woke him from his daydreaming. Eyes closed, he turned the faucet to stop the running water and ran his hands over his face and head. A moment of relaxation, only to be interrupted of the thought of continuing his work. The commander's eyes flicked open once more to grasp the cap sitting still at another mirror, then to guide him to the exit.
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