Mr. Head Recruiter Guy Chief Human Resources Officer Czerka Corporation, 2433 Seario Way. Czerka Island, Corellia Re: Droid Technician, Biomedical Engineer Positions. Dear Mr. Head Recruiter Guy, 1. Please tell us a little about yourself. Why do you want to be a part of the Czerka family? My name is Marla Colt, and I have a dream. I have a dream where every man, woman, and child has the right to be armed with reliably, reasonably priced weaponry. Where lax armament regulations ensure you can purchase thorium charges in the produce aisle of any major grocery store chain. Where affordable financing rates ensure that every home has at least one personal security droid, capable of disintegrating intruders with class 4 plasma ejectors, deflecting blaster bolts with it’s heavy armour plating, and shooting down any surface-to-air missiles in it’s vicinity. I have a dream where our greatest scientists are free to conduct experiments on sentient and semi-sentient lifeforms without fear of reprisals from assorted environmental groups. Where infusing every cell in a Gizka’s body with irradiated nanites in an attempted to create an army of super powered, rapidly reproducing, yet seemingly harmless soldiers is celebrated, not the cause of multiple class-action lawsuits. Where holding the judge’s prized pet Hagnoffari (Lord Fuzzington Snugglebottoms) hostage is called “heroism in the face of tyranny,” not ugly words like “blackmail” and “extortion.” I have a dream where the noble pursuit of building giant droids that tower over cities is seen as a monumental achievement in engineering. Where outfitting said droids with massive cannons that fire singularity projectiles capable of tearing apart vast urban areas through warping of gravitational forces leads to statues being erected in your honour. Where a night of drunken revelry allegedly involving shooting said singularity cannons at what might have turned out to be a slightly inhabited moon won’t lead to an assembly of a galactic war crimes tribunal. Together, with Czerka, I truly believe we can make the world a better place. Also having unrestricted access to weapons grade Uranium and that massive hadron collider you folks have stashed away at that not-so-secret testing lab would be sweet. 2. At Czerka, we pride ourselves on our accomplishments. Please name three of your accomplishments that you are most proud of. (Please do not include family milestones such as marriages or the birth of your children.) I could write a massive series of tomes dedicated to my exploits. I could on and on about how I invented a rifle that funnels a full power cell into a single shot, creating a force of over 2000kg per square centimeter in a wide arc. Or how I developed a jetpack fueled by a combination of household compost and tritium (Hint: nitrogen and tritium’s radioactive decay into helium-3 makes for an interesting combination!). Or how I created a chemical bath that creates non-soggy pickles (yes, your sandwich can now stay crisp, so long as you don’t mind ingesting a few carcinogens). Apart from these vocations, I have had a prominent influence on our society. I was responsible for the incident that lead a parental advocacy group to engage in a class action lawsuit, ultimately instituting a galactic mandate that no live animals with more than four limbs can be brought into a Ball Pit at Cheesy Chuck’s Arcade and Pizzeria. I made the ruling to allow non-bipeds to compete in the Miss Galaxy Pageant (and later the Little Miss Galaxy Pageant), making for the most awkward bikini competition on record. My treatise on unorthodox methods of interrogation using household items entitled “Not the Rubber Ducky! Oh, God, Please Not the Rubber Ducky!” (Copyright Korriban Press, 3 BTC), paved the way for the inclusion of a definition of “heinous and unusual torture” in legal dictionaries everywhere. Thus, limiting my brilliance to only three accomplishments to only the top three would be quiet the challenge. However, through a series of equations centered around the constant of caesium isotope particles in the atmosphere divided by the number of quacks in a standard duck (if you’re confused by this, you have to assume a universe with 16 spatial dimensions for McDuff’s equation to balance out), I have narrowed it down to these three: 1) Champion of the Great Hunt. While not my most intellectual pursuit, murdering what ultimately amounted to thousands of sentients and droids to finally stomp Taro Bloods creepy, ****-eating grin off his face was quiet an undertaking. 2) Senator of Naboo. My lawyers advise me that I shouldn’t talk much about this as the trial is ongoing. I think we can all agree that “election tampering,” “hacking,” and “racketeering” are such ugly words. While I’d like to stress that I’m not confessing to anything, if there were any truth to the charges laid against me, I would prefer to think of them as “Creating a system to ensure that the best candidate won.” It’s really very democratizing that someone of substance was elected as a senator, instead of the person who spent the most on campaign advertising. Sufficed to say rising to the heights of power in the Galactic Senate only to fall from grace to the lowest depths of despair made for a rather interesting weekend. Once the trail is settled this tragic story of fighting adversity, of great love and loss, of triumph and dismal heartbreak will be published in my memoir: “On Cheese and Other Conundrums” (Copyright Korriban Press). 3) Time Travelling Cupid. Exploiting a temporal disturbance during a routine excavation on the far side of Dromund Kaas, I transported my conscious back to high-school, where I used all my cunning, engineering aptitude, and moxy to break up Sherry Slater with her meathead boyfriend Ched. I then charmed my way into her heart and got her to be my date to prom. As a gentleman I don’t kiss and tell, but sufficed to say I totally got to second base. 3. How did you go about achieving the accomplishments above. Would you say you would do "whatever it takes" for success? The formula to my success is a complex one. It’s a chemical compound consisting of equal parts genius, cunning, incredible understanding of theoretical physics, and a superb grasp of complex mathematics. Add in a dash of moxy, a slight sprinkling of chutzpah and you’ve got yourself a delicious cocktail of awesome. I would say that for success, I do whatever it takes and then some. Because, really, when trying to suppress an insurrection by an indigenous species rebelling against the violent colonization of their planet, any regular genius can develop a hyperspace warhead filled with mind controlling biochemical nanites to drop on them from orbit. But how many geniuses have the style to ride that hyperspace warhead down from orbit to the planet’s surface wearing nothing but shiny red boots and a smile, with only microgravity fields protecting him from incineration? Just one. Marla Colt 4. Would you say you have a strong moral compass? Do you think this could get in the way of your job, should you be asked to do something...questionable? My moral compass is not only strong, in fact, it’s as close to indestructible as any physical structure that can exist. I personally fashioned my moral compass from an alloy of destroyer-class warship grade durasteel hull, cortosis, diamond, and several other rare, non-ferrous materials. Travelling deep into the bowels of Korriban, I was able to convince (read: viciously beat) a Sith Lord to help me infuse my moral compass with dark Sith alchemy, enhancing it’s indestructible properties. I’ve also added in clever booby traps to prevent pests (read: Jawas) from tampering with the delicate compass mechanism within. Heh, this one filthy little Jawa tried getting at it when he hit the electric module. Shot his *** about twenty meters while screaming “utiniiiiii.” So it’s safe to conclude that my moral compass is as strong as a moral compass can be. However, if I’m reading between the lines correctly, the more pertinent question here would be “How flexible are my morals?” The answer: extremely. Some moral compasses steer people towards “the greater good” which is at best a very vaguely defined end-state, often characterized by invoking some kind of pleasing feelings in the chest (this typically involves a warmness of about 10 degrees, accompanied by a fuzzy rating of at least 73%). My moral compass, however, points clearly towards a concrete goal: profit. As long as an action leads to profit, there’s nothing questionable about it! Need a pesky whistle blower eliminated in some kind of continent spanning cataclysm to prevent stock prices from going down? I’ve got the equations to build a groundquake generating superweapon for you! Environmentalists chaining themselves to ten-thousand year old trees on Kashyyyk to prevent clear cutting to create pastures for some fast-food chain’s banthas? A little forest fire will fix that, and allow you to sidestep those annoying mandated Wookie rights negotiations! Government sanctioned inspection of your weapon storage depots for a major galactic war crimes tribunal will inevitably find damning evidence of unspeakable atrocities committed in the outer rim? I can synthesize the toxin that will put those inspectors to sleep and ensure they wake up a month later after a drug-fueled bender in a cheap motel room with a couple of dead prostitutes! To summarize: If the money flows; I’m not troubled by other’s woes. 5. You are about to enjoy our wide variety of complimentary cocktails and snacks, when you notice that your esteemed colleague's newest experiment is likely to break out of their confines while you are gone. How would you handle this situation? First, let’s break down this hypothetical scenario. The choice is seemingly one between taking advantage of the weekly hour of complimentary cocktails and snacks (advertised as a perk on the Czerka job boards) and supporting the research of my esteemed colleagues. On the surface, the two tasks are inversely related to each other – meaning that if I have some total amount of effort (x), then placing a portion of that effort (n) into task A (enjoying complimentary cocktails and snacks) would only allow for whatever remains (x-n) to be applied to task B (preventing the ensuing chaos from my esteemed colleagues escaped experiments). However, according to my moral compass (as discussed in question 4, above), the most profitable answer would be in harnessing the opportunity of escaped experiments by observing them and seeing what would happen. Setting up a series of cloaked camera remotes, I would patch the feed into monitors at the bar where the complimentary cocktails and snacks are being served. Naturally, I would use wide spectrum cameras, and ensure that the remotes were outfitted with a variety of sensors including radioactive gauges, heat sensors, humidity sensors, and (just to be on the safe side) ectoplasmic detectors. With the feeds in place, I can then harness the power of our interns to record the findings, while I and my other colleagues, can enjoy the show over delicious complimentary cocktails and snacks. I should note, that without knowing the specific nature of my esteemed colleague’s experiment, it’s difficult to plan an optimal response. If, for example, my colleague’s experiment is subject to the laws of quantum physics, having an observer may very well prevent the experiment from escaping. In that case, it may be best to isolate the room within a vacuum chamber, permitting no interference with said experiment. Instead, using some kind of quantum detector, we could instead measure the experiment’s superposition and probability wave. Thank you for taking the time to consider this application. I'd be happy to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss my candidacy further. Best regards, Marla Colt Bounty Hunter Extraordinaire