>>5202657>>5202669>>5202686>>5203123Security of the ship lies in the capable hands of one Sergeant Kwan, a fairly gruff and humorless man with Asiatic features. He couldn’t have been older than you, but he has one of those ageless faces. A face that happens to be permanently stuck in a severe expression. As far as you know, he could either be in his late twenties or early forties.
“Sinleq Unami.” He says your name with a slight Linao accent as he looks you up and down. Seated in his office, you’re given the full degree upon coming in for work. “Do you have any prior military experience? Any combat training whatsoever?”
You think momentarily about bringing up your brawl with Pierce, then elect to forego that in lieu of something less…reckless. “Basic pilot and diver physical conditioning. And on the Duck, we used to drill every two weeks. Raiders were prolific around that part of the New Atlantic.”
Kwan nods, humming his approval. “Any experience with firearms?”
“M1911, standard-issue service pistol to PUEXO pilots. And my <span class="mu-i">Magellan’s</span> harpoon gun, but it isn’t handy.”
“Indeed. Do you have your pistol with you?”
You shake your head. “It’s in a lockbox in my berth. I only take it out when I’m in the cockpit. Didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”
He frowns, a pensive expression creasing his features. Then, he reaches for a slip of paper, and scribbles something on it. “Take this with you, and go get your pistol. If anyone stops you, show them this. As long as you’re working with security, you have my permission to carry your service weapon outside of the cockpit. Do not give me a reason to revoke this.”
You accept the slip with all due gravitas. “Of course.”
Kwan seems to accept that. “How much protection does your NERVlink suit give you?”
“…not much,” you admit. “It’s more like a reinforced diving suit. Might stop a knife, but I haven’t heard anything about blocking bullets.”
“Very well. When you come back, we’ll have a vest waiting for you.”
How…oddly acquiescing. You doubt that anyone else would be getting this kind of treatment in your place. Maybe it’s a pilot thing? For a security chief, Kwan seems to be…too accepting? Straightforward?
But on cue, the sergeant intones, “Commander Geary took the liberty of giving me your file.”
Ah. There it is.
His eyes are dark pits that hide steel. “All evidence points for you to not do anything that could jeopardize the safety of the <span class="mu-i">Calypso</span>. As a matter of fact, quite the opposite given your...particular incentive.”
Oh, for Pete’s sake. You already got this from Elishani and Geary. And before that, from McGuire on the Duck.
“Are you going somewhere with this?” you ask, only somewhat annoyed.
Something flashes in Kwan’s eyes. “Only that any and all threats to the wellbeing of this ship and her crew will be put down with extreme prejudice.”
(cont.)