Incoming Transmission FP1 3134508S
Encryption Level: STANDARD
CommID: MacFarlane: NL:DH 8764501
Message Target: Liam Adama - Acting Director Borderworlds exports (Bowex), Scarborough Station: Newcastle
Message Source: Public Terminal 176, Freeport 1
Subject: Application for Employment (BOWEX)
Attached Files: TF212.pdf, PM13.pdf, CM23.pdf
Borderworlds Exports application form 8209-2727
- What is your full name?
Captain Scott MacFarlane, owner/operator of the Freighter Malcolm
- Where do you live?
1425 North Wallace, Devon Highlands 67809, Planet New London
- Where was your last place of employment? What experience do you have?
Gordon Trans-Tours: As a student in High School I worked for this firm as a shuttle bunny right after I got my pilot's license. I shuttled passengers from the surface to orbit where I would offload them to old man Gordon's transport. His most often passenger run was to Baden Baden. The old man is gone now, but his son still runs the business. You can reach Karl Gordon at NL #011-453-8900.
Bretonian Armed Forces: After High School and a couple years of college I enlisted into the BAF. I spent my first year shuttling officers from New London HQ to various bases and ships of the line around the system. Part way into my second year I was finally transferred to #24 Squadron on the York where I flew Crusaders. In my 9th year I was transferred to #18 Squadron on the Essex where I was the Squadron Commander. I served through the Nomad War and rotated out after 14 years in service. I had seen enough by then. My last commanding officer was Group Commander Roger Falkirk on the Essex. He is now the Flight School Commandant on New London and can be reached via the BAF New London offices at NL #001-434-0234
MCS/MSS MacFarlane Shipping and Security: After rotating out of service I managed to secure a fourth-hand, barely flyable Rhino Freighter with credits I had put away during my service. I fixed her up some, as much as I could, and jumped on the gold run to Rhineland along with every other pilot with a cargo hold and not enough bloody sense. It was good money the first year and I started looking at buying another ship such as a Clydesdale. Unfortunately my ship wasn't willing to wait and she finally decided to give me the heave-ho while on re-entry to Baden Baden with a load of luxury goods. The directional coil stabilizer went out and pieces from its housing lanced my secondary drive coil, which then proceeded to blow out the manifold. Before I could do anything I was bucked by a nice explosion, which lifted up my tail end and separated my #2 engine nacelle from the ship. It came down near a 25-mil c beach house in Wilks scaring the tar out of the owners. The rest of me came down in the drink and OSC had to send a tug to fish me out. They were even less happy than the homeowner. Well, the ship was a total loss and having nothing else in a choice I purchased a second-hand Hunchback. I was leery at first, but I have to say that I loved that ship. It got me through some of the worst times and practically maintained itself. Profits went up 300% and I had a new problem. What to do with all the earnings? Well, that was when Dauman and Kruger had started running their own diamond freight to New Tokyo, right after the big shipping insurance crash. In order to keep insurance costs down, they basically squeezed the small independents out. So, I used those big earnings to band together with like-minded freighter captains and founded MacFarlane Courier Services. We presented ourselves as specialists in high-value, high-risk freight and managed to garner enough lobbying power to get the Reichstag to order the big-boys to cut us in. We were on the gravy train then and we decided to expand. In addition to more ships we added four squadrons of security pilots and equipped them with Eagles. MacFarlane Shipping and Security was born. However, it would all end fairly soon after. We had begun to hire ourselves out as supplemental forces for police authority in several different systems. A couple years before the war broke out we were hired by Kyushu's local police authority to help them secure their local space. They wanted us to fly anti-contraband patrols, freeing up some of their officers for other duties. It was dangerous duty since we were going right up against the smuggling rings of the Hogosha, the Outcasts, and their cronies. Dangerous not just in the air, but on the ground too. Fortunately, the local police chief was in friendly with the Farmers Alliance and the Alliance wanted the drug smuggling stopped as well. So the Alliance hid us when we were off patrol. They would hide our birds and maintenance crews in their barns and such and stand guard over the area while we rested. The smugglers never figured out where we were based as a result. It was good duty, and the Kusari paid well, but a few months into our contract a Nomad raid attacked Kyushu orbital space. To say we had little chance against their advanced weapons would be an understatement. The Kusari Police in the area were swept aside like so many dominoes and our Eagles fared little better. We took several of them out, but they were too many and too powerful. The last thing I remember was colliding with one after I had wounded it badly. Rather allow me to have my third kill; it tried to take me with it by ramming me. I was knocked unconscious and thrown in a flat spin toward the planet. According to the flight recorder my flight computer took note of my vitals gone nutters and took over control, making a controlled re-entry. Then the control surfaces sheared away and the best it could do was bring us in for a crash into a nice soft rice paddy, upside down. The locals recognized my bird as one of the ones hired to patrol their space and rescued me from drowning in my flooded cockpit. The company's security squadrons were wiped out and we had lost a lot of capital. I was in a coma and the Kusari did their best to heal our hurt by making sure the survivors got back safe into Bretonian hands and with a significant compensation in credits. My cousin Malcolm tried to run the company after me, but he was no businessman and couldn't cope with the loss of trade contracts after the war started. We went bankrupt soon after and Malcolm re-enlisted in the BAF to fight the Kusari and was killed last year. I woke from my coma just months ago to find almost everyone I knew was gone, and everything I thought I knew had changed. I had insurance money waiting for me and after making sure Malcolm's mother was taken care of, I bought a broken down CSV and started running recovery and tug services around New London as an independent contractor. Pretty soon I was able to afford to have a cargo pontoon installed and started running short-range jaunts. A couple months ago I finally bought a new ship. A beauty of a freighter with a 5-man crew capacity, although we run a crew of four. I looked up some old friends and hired them on as crew. They were anxious to get back out there as they had been forced into dead-end jobs due to the war. Since then we've been flying refugees out of Leeds and manufacturing supplies into Rhineland, coming back with Jaeger Infantry Fighting Vehicles to run past the Kusari blockcade to the MacDuff. The resumes of my crew are attached as PDF's. but briefly: My First Mate and Systems Officer is Todd Fraser. He was a systems officer on a Gunboat in the BAF for a lot of years and recently was an avionics component tech for Gateway.
My Loadmaster is Penny MacIntyre. The lass was a flight-line mechanic on the Essex before transferring into logistics on Thames. Before signing on with me she was stuck in some pencil-pushing job in the government. My Engineer is Colon Munro. He was also a flight-line tech on the Essexbefore moving onto working on fusion plants. Before signing with me he was in charge of disposing of spent fuel rods from an old dilapidated nuke plant on Leeds. He was really anxious to get away from that job. Oh, I almost forgot, my contact for my last job in Kyushu is Takeda Senjin. You might still be able to reach him at KY #32-452-5303-a34. I just heard that he is being censored for speaking against the war so you might not be able to reach him.
- To what division are you applying?
Either, or both as you see fit.
- Do you already own a ship? If so, what kind? If it is not listed above, can you afford one of the ones listed?
I own a DSE-720 Camara built by Deep Space Engineering. Previously it was a DSE exclusive but now it is available to all civilian interests. She's a beauty of a ship. Can slip past anything (fought off a gunboat yesterday), the galley and crew accomadations are tight, but she is only the size of a large fishing vessel after all. We've removed all her running lights and painted her a matte black with radar absorbing paint so we can more easily slip past the Kusari patrols. The BAF always give us a jaunty wave and a laugh as we cruise past. As I write this, we are on Freeport 1 on a lay over, inbound with more military supplies for our boys in the field. I am considering purchasing a heavy transport and relegating the Camara to local transport duties, but don't tell my Loadmaster that, she'd have a fit. I am in full intention of purchasing a Shire transport at a later date. The crew is looking forward to it.
I also own a fully equipped Eagle fighter. I got in good with IC so it's equipped with some of the best civilian weaponry and gear available, including a set of JADE's. I also carry a set of ONYX's in case I want to swap out.
- If you are applying for the Shipping division, what would you name your ship? Why?
My 720 is named the Malcolm, after my deceased cousin.
- Why are you interested in working for Border World Exports?
Bowex is the oldest and most respected company in Bretonia and I want to help it grow and maintain its proud heritage and dominance. It is also well known that the Queen has a soft spot for the company and respects it more than any other, and I wish to have the opportunity to insure that relationship continues. In addition, Bowex is the top supplier of goods and arms to our fighting men and I feel that with Bowex I can accomplish more for them than I can on my own. I want to see this war as over as quickly as possible with a victory for Bretonia and I want a hand in making that happen.
-Tell us about yourselves, what are you dislikeskes etc (minimum of 100 words)
Likes:
The DSE-720: There isn't anything on the downside with this ship. It can take a beating with the right shields, but its small profile means you don't have to. It can be tough to get away when you have someone right on you, but you also have 6 turrets that can point anywhere. The four-man crew cabin below the wheelhouse can function as a lifeboat in case of disaster, ditto for the Captain's sleeper, and it includes a cramped, but well appointed galley. Cargo management is a breeze and most system repairs can be done without having to EVA.
Zoner Recovery Crews: This crazy bugger from Gateway came up behind us a few weeks ago in Omega 3 just short of Freeport 1, full barrel, asleep at the wheel he was. Comes out of the trade land like his knickers was on fire, onto the cruise drive, and he bloody runs us down. Rammed us good he did, and takes off without so much as a 'how do ya do?' We had a complete flame-out from the damage to our number 1 and 2 plasma coils. Only number 3 was working and we couldn't get it to ignite. Started to drift arse-first into the rocks and still couldn't get her to turn over. Penny went EVA to check the damage under Colin's direction. After her looks-see it became apparent she'd need 48 minutes to repair the damage enough to get number 3 started so we could limp away. Well, the rocks said we only had 18 minutes. I radioed Freeport 1 of our troubles and they sent out a tug right away to tow us in. Got to us in plenty of time, and barely charged us but a few creds for the trouble. Even let us crash awhile to make repairs.
Kilts: They're airy, colorful, unique, every Clan has its own tartan pattern, and you can tell a lot about a man by how he takes care of his kilt, or doesn't as the case may be.
Having more energy than enemies: Self explanatory
Dislikes:
Synth Paste: That stuff is bloody god-awful. I honestly don't know why it is so popular. Give me real food anytime. Steak and potatoes and some greens. None of that artificially flavored paste. Prefer haggis over it. Properly prepared, even haggis is superior. Told the bloke so, last time we was on Stuttgart picking up a load for Nuremberg. He says to me 'We have that!' and goes rummaging around in a box in the back of the warehouse. Brings me back a tube of haggis-flavored paste. If the Rhinelanders hadn't thought ill of me for doing so, I woulda shot him dead right there. Needless to say, I didn't try the stuff. Despite it being a 'free sample', I spaced it the first chance I got.
Sticking Fusion Injectors: It's a common myth that fusion reactors can go 'nuclear' and explode brilliantly. While it is true that fusion plants can die in a spectacular fashion, they don't actually 'go nuclear', but of course you already knew that. The fusion reaction from hydrogen H-Fuel or even MOX must be carefully controlled, not because of the so-called inherent dangers, but rather to insure that an actual fusion reaction takes place so that energy can thus be produced. People seem to think that the magnetic fields produced in a reaction chamber are there to protect the reactor walls from the plasma produced during the fusion reaction. The reverse is actually true. The fusion reaction occurs only under the most narrow of temperature and pressure conditions, thus if the plasma is allowed to touch the cold, cold (relatively speaking) walls of the reaction chamber, 9 times out of 10 the fusion reaction simply ceases, as the temperature immediately drops. The magnetic fields also protect the reaction from itself. As you recall from basic chemistry, when you heat a gas, especially to a plasma state, it naturally wants to expand. Expansion results in cooling, which again results in the reactions ceasing, thus the magnetic field exists to help provide constant pressure and inhibit expansion. Of course, if you were actually able to keep pumping gas into a plasma reaction in an attempt to start an overload, you'd only succeed in evaporating the lining of the reactor wall, dumping literally kilograms of cold, heavy, non-fusible elements onto the plasma, which is much lighter. It would be like dumping 5 tons of wet synth paste onto a plasma welding torch. Aye, the torch goes out right away. But people, land-dwellers all, still tell me: 'But I saw a Molly/Corsair/Gaian/Xeno/Kusari (take yer pick) fighter go nuclear on the news vids!' Aye, laddie, I'm sure ya did.. which brings me to my story. What do ya suppose happens if the casing is breached and oxygen floods into the chamber?
A mate of mine was flying convoy with me several years ago before I took a dirt nap on Kyushu. We was coming through Liberty space and got jumped by some Xenos. We fought em off, but my mate got banged up right badly. He insisted everything was fine and that he could handle it so we moved on. Little bit later my sensors picked up strange readings coming from his ship. When I asked what the bloody-hell-name-of-Mary was going on, he calmly asked me to drop out of cruise and move off the opposite direction fer a bit. I did so, and a few moments later saw his ship silently go POOF and disappear in the distance.
Damage from the attack had caused his fusion injector to malfunction and remain stuck in the fully open position. The bypasses were fried, and his reactor casing had taken a hit, just enough to weaken it. When the plasma reaction hit the reactor walls, it surely as it should vaporized the lining of the casing, but the damage caused a casing breech. Kilograms of oxygen from the compartment flooded in and of course was instantly super heated to a temperature twice that of the surface of a star. When rapidly heated like that, oxygen, and many other gases, react violently and expand even more violently. He had an instant super blow-torch burn out the side of the ship causing explosive decompression followed by a pressure implosion. He didn't get out. So now, I always check my injectors when I land, and again before I take off.
Kusari politics: This one is covered by current events, and the fact that their women-folk are apparently good enough to be allowed to die for them in the Military, but not good enough to have basic human rights, vote, own property, decide when and whether or not to marry/have children, stop me before I ramble on. Oh! I'm taking up a collection for the GC, by the way.
Gateway Transport Captains: See above under my comments about Junker Recovery Crews.
Having more enemies than energy: Self explanatory.