As I enter the building, I see a clean entrance, with benches, machines to one side, and attendants to the other. The back wall was for bathrooms, and the like.

  I turned to the attendants and began to walk forward. I felt their eyes on me as I approached. It was a slow day it seemed. Not many were here.

  As I got to empty window number 5, I spoke.

  "Greetings, miss. Might this be the Mercenary Union hub on this planet?" I ask.

  She looks at me oddly then states, "Yes, this is the union hub on Ferro. Unfortunately, AI are not legible for membership to the mercenary union without approval from the board."

  "Ah, not to worry miss! I assure you, I am not an artificial intelligence. I am more alone the lines of a Cyborg and their ilk. Is this well?" I ask. I hadn't expected the ai issue. But, I suppose when you don't have a tight leash or lock, one gets nervous.

  "Is that so? Hm. Well then, how might the mercenary union of Ferro assist you?" She asks.

  "I would like to apply for membership and subsequent recruitment via a company. Is this well, miss?"

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  "Yes, there are forms you must fill out, then an interview with senior personnel. After that, you will be admitted to the union. Your paperwork and interview can be submitted to companies, along with your requirements for recruitment if there are any. They will subsequently contact you if they think you fit or not. Is this acceptable, sir?"

  "Yes miss. May I have the forms and a writing utensil?"

  "...Ahem, sir, forms are on the kiosks behind you."

  "Oh? Is there any way to get the forms on paper?"

  "... Yes sir."

  "Ah, wonderful. Please aquire me said forms in paper, and a writing utensil."

  With a sigh, she nods and gets up. While an odd request for her perhaps, it was reasonable enough in my opinion. Writing it manually gives it more meaning. More weight. In my opinion, at least.

  A bit later, she came back with the papers, a pen of sorts, and a forced smile. "Here you are sir. Will that be all?" She asks.

  "No, miss. I will be fine." I state. I begin reading the papers, one after another. The first few are wavers, warnings, and the like.

  I would think the risks clear enough when you go to be a mercenary, but I guess not. Hmmmm. Name? Hmmmmm. No lie necessary here. Age? Hmmm. 472 will do.

  Former occupation(s)? Hmmm. Officer, scholar, teacher, soldier, duelist, and noble. That should do.

  As I get through the questions one after another, only 23 seconds have elapsed. This wasn't short by any means. They covered their corners will. I gave them a small mental nod to that, if nothing else.

  I finished a bit below 35 seconds. When I looked at the receptionist, I nod at her. "It is done." I state, handing her the forms. She blinks at me, grabbing the paper automatically. "When can I aquire an interview, miss?"