"He's kinda...sensitive. Comes from a military family but hasn't actually served in a military organization. The Fleet's more exploration- less Armed forces and more NASA." He waves a hand before going in for another bite of the casserole. Shit. these fried onions are fucking AMAZING he will go to church as long as he has to if this gets him these.
And well- maybe he should've expected that question. Another bite gives him time to chew on a proper answer. "You know 'bout Project Freelancer?"
"Didn't realize NASA was in to powdering chapped little asses." She's not interested in excuses from Malcolm, and even less so hearing them on his behalf off one of his friends.
Hob snorts out a mouthful of smoke. "Yeah. War crime clusterfuck that fucked up a lot of good soldiers. I read your files." But she's also got several veterans from that bullshit organization in her ranks, and they're all doing fine. Well, except for the bit where Tex feels the need to piss on her shoe every other week.
"Part of my being fucked up is an extreme aversion to getting put in a situation close to that again." Watching his squad die before the Project- and everything that happened during and after PFL....yeah. He's not really eager to jump into the ranks again. Not that he thinks Hob is gonna go the way of the Director but-
It's just the situation. All of them, the way there were, the way they are- he got five years to sit back and look at things. Got a few months here to break it down for himself how to keep it from happening again.
"No disrespect to you or the Army. You're good people doing a good thing. It's just...not for me. Not again."
"I was about to feel mighty damn insulted," Hob drawls. Any implication that she's like that fuckstick that ran the project, or even could be? That's a mortal insult, right there.
"So fine. You don't want to be army any more. Why the fuck ain't you servin' in a civilian capacity?"
"..." Well that. Shit. "I'll be honest. That hadn't even occurred to me."
Sure he helps people find things, lends them a hand when everything goes strange and wrong. Maybe it's the idea of permanence. That joining up with any established anything here means he's given up on the idea of getting back to-
to what?
He's dead. There's nothing past that. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars. Dead. Gone. Done.
Why NOT build up some permanence here? Why not take part in something more than his own private endeavors.
"...You got much call for cops with infiltration experience?"
"We got a call for cops, period," she says. "Spook experience 's a bonus, I imagine. Gives ya a leg up. So long as ya know the law, ya fuckin' follow the law, and you don't pull that loose canon bullshit, you'll do fine. City needs people who ain't gonna take a payoff and know what it means to serve a higher callin' than their own bank account."
And as fucked as this guy had gotten, she knows he must have believed in that at some point.
"I'm trying to envision myself as a cop and- I can't do it." But it'd be nice, wouldn't it? Not the army but something different from work. Helping people. Really, genuinely helping people nad having the authority to help them.
That'd be a nice change. A good sense of purpose. A reason to help people protect themselves, to dig around and find out what the hell makes them who and what they are here.
"...goddamn sign me up. I'm down. Where do I apply for that?"
Hob reaches into her desk and takes out a battered datapad. She slides it across to him. "Read yer contract, sign it. Requisition armaments and uniforms at the new Order of Justice building. Don't get spooked that it's army personnel in there; we're standing down soon as there are enough civvies runnin' the outfit. Ya go talk to Lieutenant Stanton, since she's the army liaison with the order. Also have a chat with Elizabeth."
Since yeah, Elizabeth isn't in any kind of official capacity right now, but as soon as the trial's done, she'll be working hard. And Hob believes in running people in teams.
He does actually read the contract. He hadn't been careful enough with the Project, hadn't looked into every little loophole and deception they'd had in plain text if anyone bothered to untangle it. All that doublespeak and legal manuvering and he'd just smiled and signed for the honor of serving his people.
His species. His planet.
And what'd it get him? A bucket of issues and three bullets in the chest. Fuck that. He reads. He reads, reads again, and signs. Nothing in there he can't stand or won't abide- hell it's all pretty damn coherent. He can live with that.
"Yessir." If Hob says she's good- she's probably good. Besides that was in the middle of the whole. Thing. That ended up with the leg behind Hob being a thing in the first place.
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Day 196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
And well- maybe he should've expected that question. Another bite gives him time to chew on a proper answer. "You know 'bout Project Freelancer?"
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
Hob snorts out a mouthful of smoke. "Yeah. War crime clusterfuck that fucked up a lot of good soldiers. I read your files." But she's also got several veterans from that bullshit organization in her ranks, and they're all doing fine. Well, except for the bit where Tex feels the need to piss on her shoe every other week.
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
It's just the situation. All of them, the way there were, the way they are- he got five years to sit back and look at things. Got a few months here to break it down for himself how to keep it from happening again.
"No disrespect to you or the Army. You're good people doing a good thing. It's just...not for me. Not again."
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
"So fine. You don't want to be army any more. Why the fuck ain't you servin' in a civilian capacity?"
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
Sure he helps people find things, lends them a hand when everything goes strange and wrong. Maybe it's the idea of permanence. That joining up with any established anything here means he's given up on the idea of getting back to-
to what?
He's dead. There's nothing past that. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars. Dead. Gone. Done.
Why NOT build up some permanence here? Why not take part in something more than his own private endeavors.
"...You got much call for cops with infiltration experience?"
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
And as fucked as this guy had gotten, she knows he must have believed in that at some point.
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
That'd be a nice change. A good sense of purpose. A reason to help people protect themselves, to dig around and find out what the hell makes them who and what they are here.
"...goddamn sign me up. I'm down. Where do I apply for that?"
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
Since yeah, Elizabeth isn't in any kind of official capacity right now, but as soon as the trial's done, she'll be working hard. And Hob believes in running people in teams.
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
His species. His planet.
And what'd it get him? A bucket of issues and three bullets in the chest. Fuck that. He reads. He reads, reads again, and signs. Nothing in there he can't stand or won't abide- hell it's all pretty damn coherent. He can live with that.
"The chick on trial for arson?"
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
He gets it.
"THanks for the casserole. And the job."
196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action
He's not one of her soldiers, but it's reflexive habit.
Re: 196 Early Evening (February 26th) Action