Robert West had moved to the Metatropolis two days after his 18th birthday. His parents had warned against it, but Bobby had his mind set on it and when his mind was set, there was little anyone could do to change it. His superb academics and athletic prowess got him accepted to Trump enterprise's security academy and so began his training.<br/><br/>Since Metatropolis was a sovereign nation, there were entirely new set of laws and criminal codes to learn. The first rule you learn is that the CEO's of this corporation were essentially gods. They were above reproach and were allowed complete anonymity from any prosecution. If you knew what was good for you, you stayed the hell out of their way and kept your eyes pointed toward the ground when you were in their presence. If you were lucky, maybe showed off some skill that one of them liked, you might even get called up to the big leagues and get a position as a private bodyguard for one of the elite.<br/><br/>The second thing you learned was that the rest of the job, but only after learning that first golden rule were you allowed to complete your training. It turned out that the job was relatively simple when it came down it . You kept the peace, you kept the company in the 'black', you towed the company line, you got better living conditions and better stock benefits. Stock is the currency of the wealthy, credits are what the common man spends and they are really worth anything, with no physical currency all accounts are virtual and subtracted and added electronically. Your equipment is the highest-tech and you are fitted with anything an officer might need in the line of duty including body amour, and plasma charged utili-weapon.<br/><br/>Bobby remembered how simple it all seemed while he was in the Academy, it was all just so straight forward and antiseptic. Suspect neutralization techniques, less-than-lethal target zones...Take down the 'bad guys', what an absolutely perfect and pure pathos to live by. But only a few weeks into working the beat with his assigned 'Mentor' he found the truth of the matter.<br/><br/>Sargent T. A Williams had been a company employee since before the Depression. He'd been here during the glory days and rarely ever now was he not bitching about how good things used to be. He was also one of the most vile, violent and abusive men to walk the planet.  He was the absolute pinnacle of street level corruption in the Trump security forces, and this was supposed to be Bobby's mentor.<br/><br/>The superior officer would have Bobby drive him around the Brothel sections of the city, each one he'd take payments of on his blackmarket credit scanner. Insane amounts of the repressed peoples incomes would change hands so that this 'crimeboss with a badge' wouldn't start causing trouble. More often then not, he'd take on of the girls in the back for a free share of gash. In his spare time, Sarge Williams would play passenger seat home run derby, on poor synthetics, they'd pass. He would lean out the window and bash the unsuspecting synth-person's head in with his passing nightstick, just for shits and giggles.<br/><br/>Bobby detested the man, and swore he'd never turn out like this tyrant. He tried reporting his Sargent once he'd graduated and been assigned a personalized route, but all that did was fall on the deaf ears of the even more corrupt higher levels. It came back to bite Bobby and taught him a valuable lesson, as Sargent Williams found out about it and in turn had Bobby assigned to one of the most dangerous and lethal districts  as punishment.<br/><br/>And this is the beat officer Bobby has worked for the past decade. 'Whores alley' is what they called it, Bobby walks it with pride though, 23rd Psalm repeating his head, he fears no evil. One day the lord will present him with a real test, and he is going ready when it presents himself. He will prove to at least one person that all Security officers aren't evil corrupt bastards.