Militia Dockyard, Cathedral City Center
The Militia's own private dockyard was the usual hive of activity, and then some. Hundreds of civilians of a variety of professions came and went, each trying their luck at being accepted. Of course because everyone's attention was on the far more obvious recruiter booths they missed the far shorter and more reasonable recruiter station inside HQ, which Reagan was observing from outside the armory window.
"Sorry about the wait Captain Morgan, here's your equipment." The young man passed her a rugged looking bolt action rifle, a hold over from her time in Firnfeld. He then passed her a bandoleer of ammunition, a pouch of tools, the now standard issue body armor, and her sidearm... at this point she wondered if she should ask for her sword, it had been a few years since she had stuffed it in the armory an she wasn't exactly the most proficient sword user either, still, not best to leave things to chance.
"Not a problem, now could you also grab it?"
"Give me a second to dig it out."
As he went to go dig through the piles of equipment she became aware of a pair of footsteps approaching her, they were heavy enough for someone of average size, however there was the distinct rattle of repair equipment, that meant someone small, possibly small, a slight bounce to their step, which meant-
"Reagan, ma'am!"
"Miss Lockheart," she sighed, turning to see one Amelia Lockheart, "It's Captain Morgan when on duty."
She raised an eye at that, "I'm a civilian."
Reagan mentally rubbed her temples, Amelia had decided that she would join as a civilian contractor, still her ability had surprised those who done her interview, her repair ability wasn't perfect but Preston certainly knew how teach someone how to fix things, even if half of the repairs made no sense to her, that was to be expected of a Firnfeld engineer.
A silence fell between them, Reagan found her eyes being drawn to the recruiters, the idea had some merit. Amelia followed her gaze, though not entirely sure what she was looking at.
"You know," she started, gathering the young woman's attention," I was thinking of skipping town for a while, the city guard can manage without me, not like I was important anyway, and it sounds interesting."
A knock from behind her heralded the return of the Quarter Master, "Right, one blade fit to cut through any unarmored target, be it bandit, rouge animals, or sand worms." Took the blade gladly and attached it to her belt.
"You know what?" She said addressing the young woman.
"Let me guess, you want me to come along?"
"Why not? I could use a familiar face, and we've fought off an imperialistic rebellion together already." She shrugged, "Or you can stay here."
Amelia stood quietly as she thought it over. Reagan found herself examining her, blond hair tied back in a bun, light skin dusted with freckles and short, she was shorter then herself, who was 5' 10" when standing.
"Alright, I'm in! And I call kicking down any doors we find in a foreign city."
Reagan had a vague idea where that had come from.
"If you become anything like that man I'll have to marry you."
"Hah, wait what?"
"Nothing, now come on!"
She led the the two of them up to the recruiter and filled out the paperwork and left, the two of them making their way to the dockyard amidst their now fellow explorers.
- I couldn't stand the stagnation, and political atmosphere they were steering me to."
Oh? Well that was something she had an opinion on. She turned to the voice.
"Well, in Firnfeld there was a saying among the Militia that any day you weren't sent against pirates was a good day." She shook her head, "Trust me, we had enough fighting against pirates among those icy crags."
She ran a hand through her short auburn hair, cropped just below her ears. "Still, politics? Give me a pirate raid any day."
