Ironwood sat behind his desk holding a sheet of paper in his hand. Across from him sat yet another prospective candidate. They were more than qualified for the job. They graduated the Academy at the top of their class, worked for ten years as an engineer for the Schnee Dust Company, they had no criminal record, and they were a human. Under normal circumstances, Ironwood would have gladly hired them, but this wasn't a normal circumstance. Stricter levels of scrutiny were called for here.
Ironwood looked at the candidate's resume. "It says here that one of your interests is 'Mistrali animation'. What do you mean by that?"
The interviewee blushed slightly. "Oh. Well, I've always been a fan of foreign media, and I've loved cartoons since I was a kid. It's why I studied robotics."
Ironwood's eyebrow twitched slightly. "Fascinating. What would you say are your favorites?"
"My favorites would be Mahoramatic, Crimson Shell, Frame Arms Girls, I'm a big fan of Chobits as well."
"I see. Well, I have no further questions. You're free to go. We'll be conducting a second round of interviews. Stay by your phone, a member of the military will contact you if you've been selected."
"Thank you, general," the interviewee said. He saluted the general and left the room.
Once the door clicked shut the general slumped in his seat. He pulled his revolver out of its holster and studied it closely. He pulled back the hammer and pointed the barrel under his chin. He inhaled sharply as his finger pressed on the trigger. For several seconds he considered pulling it. With a sigh, he placed the gun on his desk.
"Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I shouldn't do this at all."
At the next moment he heard a commotion outside. It sounded like people arguing. One of the voices sounded like someone he knew.
"Sir, the General isn't taking guests at the moment. I must ask you to leave."
"Son, if you don't get out of my way I'll have your entire family working in the deepest mine on Remnant until they're eighty."
The door opened and an older man walked in and ironwood's mood soured instantly. The man had white hair, pale blue eyes, and a plastic smile. He slammed the door shut and walked up to the desk.
"Hello, James," Jacques said. He glanced down and saw the gun on the desk. "Another failed interview, I take it?"
"What do you want, Jacques?" Ironwood asked.
"I came here to laugh at you. Is that what you want me to say?"
Ironwood blinked. "Did you just-"
"I'm here," Jacques interrupted, "because I want to know if you've made any progress on your little experiment. I gave you the money you needed because you promised me results, but it's been months and you're still trying to put people together."
"I told you I need to find qualified candidates."
Jacques sighed. "What was wrong with the last one? I personally recommended him."
"He was qualified for certain, but I needed to take a closer look at him, and when I did I found some questionable elements."
Jacques pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear if this is about sex robots again."
"Of course it's about sex robots!" Ironwood shouted. "Do you know how difficult it's been to even find candidates to interview? Most of the staff I selected quit because I told them we weren't building one."
"I don't understand why you're so opposed to the idea. It is possible to accomplish two things at once. You get your soldier and I get to sell an alternative model."
"You don't understand, Jacques. We're not just building a new gun or a piece of armor. P.E.N.N.Y is going to revolutionize the Hunter system. It's my life's work, and I won't have it jeopardized so some masturbator can live out one of their deranged fantasies. So no, no sex robots, no one who wants a sex robot, and no one who even knows what a sex robot is."
"Spare me the sales pitch, just show me some results. Otherwise, I'll have to explain to my investors how I lost four billion Lien."
"Just tell them it was for your wife's bar tab."
The two men broke into laughter.
Jacques sighed and wiped a tear from his eye. "And on that note, I must make my leave. Contact me if you ever manage to get started." As he was walking toward the door, he stopped and turned around. "You can't tell me you've never thought about it."
"Goodbye, Jacques," Ironwood said.