After the blinding flash, it didn't take long for Sagara to confirm that he was no longer on earth. His first thought was that this must be a hallucination of some kind, but the more time he spent observing the world around him, the more details he noticed that made it seem implausible that it would be a hallucination.

Sagara knew he needed one thing: intel. The key to any successful operation was information, and the Imperial Library made it easy for him to pick up the gist of what was true about this world: the laws of this galaxy-spanning civilization were ruled by an Imperial order, and that peaceful order was increasingly under attack by a terrorist organization that called themselves "The Rebellion."

As a member of Mithril, Sagara's identity was, more than anything, defined by its opposition to terrorism; Sagara had no national alliances, and his allies were anyone who was in the business of hunting down terrorists.  So it was that he found himself in the Imperial recruitment office.

---

Sagara approached the front desk. "Reporting for...well, not reporting for duty just yet, as I'm currently a civilian, but I'm aiming to change that. I've got no particular preference for where you send me; I'm happy to be trained and deployed wherever you need help against the Rebellion."

"Excellent", says the front desk person. He then proceeds to type various things into a computer pad, with about one keypress every five seconds. It takes a while.

He finally looks up. "... name and identification number? also... what are you... supposed to be good at?" After some pause, "... if any such thing... exists."

Sagara nodded. He didn't expect the recruitment officer to recognize the term "Arm Slave," nor the specific model of Arm Slave that was his speciality, but he did his best to express himself in ways that would be understood. "I'm a pilot.  Mechs, robotic walkers.  I'll admit that none of the models I'm acquainted with are Imperial standard, but I am a quick learner and have plenty of experience working with experimental tech. Apart from that, I have my infantry training. Hand-to-hand combat, and handling small armaments.  Put a glock pistol in my hand, and I'll put a 9mm round within an inch of any target you put in front of me. ...uh, it's a ballistic weapon." Sagara glanced at the desk officer's weapon, which didn't look like any firearm he'd ever seen.  "I have really good aim, and know how to obey orders."

Long pause, typing. "... know how to obey orders. Good. Well... as it happens... we are in need of some additional personnel to... khmm... investigate some issues on Mineral Extraction Site 3. I... guess some experience with blaster rifles... or... whatever... that thing was, might help."

He then continues with typing a lot more. Finally, he looks up: "please proceed towards the Armory, door 44 b on the right on that corridor" - he gestures towards a long row of doors towards the inside of the building - "and look for Sergeant Baglorgh; hand them this". He picks up a plastic-looking comm pad with a screen with orange-black text. 

Sagara nodded to the officer at the front desk and followed the directions to the armory. Along the way, he took the time to observe the details of the corridor, counting the number of steps it took to reach door 44b and mentally tallying the distance in case a quick evacuation ever became necessary.

He walked up to the first person he found and announced himself. "Sergeant Baglorgh? My name is Sagara.  Sousuke Sagara. I'm a crack shot. Is this where I'm to receive my first standard-issue weapon?"

"Greetings, soldier! I am him indeed..." He reaches out & takes the plastic pad, reads. "So you claim you're... good" He shakes his head - "... well, I've seen many claiming this. Fortunately though... I... don't think we'll be dropping you into true combat for a while. Maybe... you'll survive for a while."

He then disappears into some back room, and shows up with a heavy metal case, which he slams down on the table. He opens it: it contains something that looks like the combination of a firearm and some electrical circuits; the case also contains some round metal objects, about the size of a grenade, which do appear to fit into an opening on the gun.

"Rule number one: this is your blaster rifle. You do not give your blaster rifle to anyone, unless you're ordered so by your superior."

"Number two. You do not fire your blaster rifle, unless you're ordered so by your superior."

"Also... until you go through Basic Training, you do. not. open. this case, unless ordered so by your superior.

Also, your superior is... well, me personally, unless we find... someone else unfortunate enough to have to keep care of you. Understood?"