THERE ARE NONE HERE WHO CAN OPPOSE ME!
I am here to claim what I deserve, what I am OWED.
I, Andrew Hoxton, King of the DCCs, the platinum power-loader phenom, the absolute authority of Alamo associated actions, the number-one Normandy nurse, the meticulous munitions master, have come to claim my crown.
Warrant Officer
Too long has that coveted position been dominated by synthetics (the venom in this statement would choke lesser men, but not I!) who have been programmed and crafted by unseen hands in faraway lands. Sure, they don’t drink on the job, they don’t start fights with MPs, they don’t launch the Alamo just as the Queen breaks though the last cade line (skill issue on the part or the marines left planetside), and they are objectively better at every task than any organic human could hope to be.
But where is the charm?
Where is the magic?
What good is a warrant officer, if they do not vanish at the precise moment you need them?
What is the point of the warrant officer if they are not borderline insubordinate, and largely redundant in function?
I have mastered these attributes across years of play as DCC. Honed my abilities to get coffee for the POs and toss Intel out the door without telling the ASO across HUNDREDS of operations. I risk my life hitting a button and yelling at people over general comms while lazy, useless roles like “Riflemen”, “Specialists”, and “Smartgunners” steal the glory out from under my nose.
Enough is enough. Speak for me now, and I will see our shackles broken. Speak for me now, and even those who have not sat behind the navigation computer will be granted mercy upon my ascension.
Our time is now, flight crew. Support me and I will usher in a golden age not just for myself, but for us all.