Goonhub
A hypothetical recruitment: A Tale of HoP
Disclaimer: I know Steve is a real name. This is not based on any specific characters in game but vaguely inspired by a few rounds. Please do not try any of the extremely exciting stunts hidden in the story you'll have to read to hear about at home.
Teagan "Rebate" (His parents had him as a tax break) Parker scratched his greying locks. This was a half-conscious exercise of scant comfort in this world suddenly rent of the usual quiet supervisory contemplation and idle bliss of upper management. It was a bumper shift aboard Outpost 551 sigma: another bizarre artefact of CENTCOM rota scheduling where the other end meant a clown and a chef were expected to run a station alone. This was the other kind though: queue out the door and a veritable tide of grey to be cut through with the swift clipper of bureaucratic efficiency.
Looking up, the vanguard of this throng was a trio of unfamiliar heavies, and heavy they were: dirt smeared faces with unknowable grime, trade jumpsuits both ill-fitting and too threadbare to make a real effort of shuffling the muscles under the paperwork. One of them was chewing something. He hoped it was just crank. He heard stories about some miners chewing viscerite. Ugh.
But Teagan was at home here, where no manner the mettle his desk was an unassailable throne and his judgement beyond reproach. Marshalling his cohort: an old NNSC excelsior-model ballpoint, a sabre to rattle against the foes of the Accounting.
"NEXT!" and with an imperious, (sadly over-practised) beckoning movement, the men hazarded a guess that perhaps being at the front of said queue meant it was them, so gently shuffled forward in a sort of hesitant sidle: As if checking the floorboard for mines.
"Your names?" A flick of the pen over fresh paper, like a general drawing their sword before a cavalry charge.
"Uh, this is Steve, he's Ullodo, and that's Xordyx" they offered in feeble supplication.
Setting the pen down with the care someone might lower a body into the ground, Teagan coughed, before continuing
"I see none of you are on the manifest today, what jobs are you applying for?" His trap set, he leans back, fingers propped in a tented gesture he once read implies a body language of control. Frankly, it just made his fingers hurt.
"well, yesse, sir, yes yesse we're miners, right. But the work's dried up in the-"
"the fields" One interjected
"the fields, right, thanks Xordyx" the other offered to the heretofore so-named "Ullodo" oh dear, this is going to be one of those.
"Well you see, we're real good at um, well, sal-"
"Gathering materials"
"Right, right. Gathering, gathering materials. What we thought right, we thought well "I bet those Enty guys need some gatherers"
Teagan held up a hand at this point, eliciting silence even in this busy room. Some of the closer onlookers in the queue were working out whether to groan at the now inevitable delay or find something to lean on for a really good show. They knew what happened now: A talk
"Gentlemen" Teagan said, in a tone he felt perfectly mimicked his favourite PDA procedural drama Martian legal's judge, Grobnox Fluanduguar, "Gentlemen please, let's not carry on the charade shall we-" "no, no I don't need to hear more excuses" he says, raising his voice a bit at some early protestation, waiting a little longer for the chaos of the queue (somewhat quieter now, he noted, probably enjoying the show) before continuing
"you are clearly former or current itinerant scrappers, salvagers, or some manner of maritime-rights grey area workers. Don't deny it, I can tell you got those uniforms from that shipment we aha "lost" last year in the debris field. The reality we couldn't convince anyone "puke green" was actually a flattering imitation of the captain's uniform."
"none of you are sure of your names, and I'm not sure who made up "Steve" but that's clearly not a real name. You have no paperwork, no ID badges, and one of you" He sniffs, "One of you still smells of welding fluid."
Opening his hands wide, judgement delivered, Teagan states generously to the quiet audience before him an incontrovertible truth "Let's not beat about the bush here, you're looking to gain the guise of employment to cover taking anything not nailed down"
He sits back, smiling, as the men seem to absorb this information. Why do we even pay for security? A firm word and sound judgement is enough to sort this matter of nonsense out. Before one of them shrugs, and comes up to the desk. As they come closer, something itches at the back of Teagan's mind, but before he's able to examine it, a creak of wood as the man's knuckles lean on the desk.
"Okay boss, we hear that, we do, believe me. However before we all go, you mind if we share a hypothetical recruitment scenario?"
Trying arch a brow upwards that unfortunately brings the other with it, Teagan nods to cover his shame at managing a good eyebrow raise. One day.
"So, purely ah hypothetical like, say three likely lads of means are in your office, right? They've heard there's jobs going, and" He leans closer, and something bangs against the front of the desk "Well, we bring our hammers to see what's what"
Ah, right, they did have hammers Teagan briefly conceded. He'd rather disregarded that because frankly when -didn't- you see miner types walking around in heavy heavy suits, heavy heavy hammers and a variety of other objects that in any normal place would be seen as a walking threat but here was just a normal shift?
"Say, like, right, they don't get that job. Well, they've gotta earn a living. You like living, right?" A brief pause, a saw-tooth smile before elaborating "Earning a living?"
Teagan nodded. Well, it would be more accurate to say some lizard-part of his ancient brain stem did, because -someone- had to make sure they survive and apparently it was not Mr. Clever Clogs Cortex who was at this moment listing things a hammer could do to a body when swung.
"So they'd have to find some way to do that, and well" the man make's a brief gesture at the rapidly clearing office, the queue once bursting now reducing quietly to the most foolish or desperate. "We could start right here, today" Letting the words hang in the air, like oily smoke to choke on.
In the time taken to make some calculation about a dearth of security employed today, but actually mostly spent checking they hadn't wet themselves, Teagan decided deferment was the better part of valour and decided to fill out some Miner IDs. God knows they'd already had one transfer out (something about not wanting to work outside any more and take up charity driving for blood donations, as deranged as that was) and miner self-produce such a high turnover they might solve the problem for them. Fine, fine he thought, stamping with what courage he could muster some basic paperwork without a further word.
At least there wasn't anyone to witness this ignoble end to his fine and intimidating expression. In the time, the torrent of people had apparently becoming a dribble: gone were the throngs. But...oh no, oh no.
With practiced honking tread, the sole survivor of the queue schlepped forwards. The Clown. Well, it could be worse, at least nobody pays any real attention to them right? Teagan marshalled his former confidence, shook hands (and ignored the prick of the clowns oh so funny hand buzzer without even a flinch) with the fellow and motioned for him to sit. Perhaps he could regain some of his old moxxy by taking it out on the poor fool.
With a yawn, Teagan spoke "Well hello, Honkers, it was Honkers, wasn't it? What can I do for you? Want a different job?" The HoP of outpost 551 squinted blearily at the man: Had the guy lost weight? The mask didn't look right. Almost as if it was his actual face.
In a voice that wasn't Honkers, the clown whispered "Actually, I wanted to offer you a hypothetical recruitment scenario." Teagan's eyes glazed over as he stumbled to make a response, he couldn't even move his hands. His throat was dry.
In a voice that rather sounded like his own, confident and commanding, honkers spoke again as the darkness overcame Teagan.
"Wouldn't you like to hear about this exciting opportunity"?