RoBobby McMillan

Security has always fascinated me. They are the people who protect GFC: not only those in it, but also its integrity. They are the ones to go to when something goes wrong, when cool heads are needed, when the way of life as we know it, is threatened.

But exactly *how* do they do that? How do they make sure that GFC remains a safe place, where everyone can perform their duties in peace and harmony? I decided to find out.

When I arrived at the sandbox, the first thing I noticed was Commander Sophie Johnson sitting there, behind a self-made security desk. Quite an ingenious way of show security’s presence, I figured. Still, I wasn’t here to hand out compliments… I was here to cause trouble.

Now I wasn’t about to fire weapons, detonate bombs or yell obscenities. That’s just not my style. No… instead, I took the biggest mattress I could find… and threw it at Commander Johnson. To say she was surprised was an understatement.

She quickly recovered though. “Commodore McMillan, this is your first warning,” she spoke up. “You are infringing the rules of this sim. Please stop immediately.”

Of course I couldn’t stop. I needed to push the Commander to the edge. If I wanted to know what Security was made of, and how they dealt with mattress-throwing threats, I needed to continue. So I made a snide comment about her father smelling of elderberries, and threw even more mattresses. It was a good thing I had a stocked up at the quartermaster, before coming here.

Still, Commander Johnson wasn’t impressed. “After failing to adhere to instructions given by the on-duty Security officer – I am issuing you with your second warning,” she informed me. “Should you reach three, I will have no choice but to remove you from the sim using applicable force.”

I had to admit, her restraint was admirable. If I were the one who had glorified pillows thrown at me, I probably would have reacted differently. Granted, I would have laid down on one of those mattresses and I’d be fast asleep, but that’s another point entirely.

So I continued. “Eat comfy pillow!” I yelled.

It was at that point that Johnson took a step forward. “This is your third and final warning. Stop or force will be used,” she told me.

I glared at the sidearm Johnson had with her, and quickly did the math: a mattress against a blaster. I wouldn’t stand a chance. Still, she wouldn’t fire at me, would she? I swallowed away my fears – after all, as a reporter, I knew I had to take a chance every now and again – and threw my last mattress.

All of a sudden, I found a transporterbeam locking on to me. As I dematerialised, I realised that it was Johnson who had called for one. Pretty smart… and non-violent, thank goodness.

I materialised inside a brig, on one of GFC’s orbiting ships. Johnson had transported up as well, so I quickly explained what I had been doing: that I was testing her to see how security responded. That all of this was for a story. An official GFC story, for that matter.

Commander Johnson didn’t budge. “I hope you like your stay here, Commodore,” she said with a serious look on her face. Her glare made the faint smile disappear from my face. “You’re going to be here a while.” And with that, she beamed out.

So yeah, here I am. I wanted to know how Security works… and I guess I’ve found out. They work pretty well. Better not commit any kind of crime, otherwise you’d end up alone in a holding cell…

Like me.

Can someone please get me out of here?

Written by Commodore RoBobby McMillan
Special thanks to: Commander Sophie Johnson.

Note: Naturally, all of this was pre-planned. Sophie and I discussed this at length, and she was fully in agreement with everything that happened. So there was no actual griefing going on.
Griefing is bad folks… don’t do it, or you’ll have to deal with actual bans and such!