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Appearance; Hair grown, eyes green, height just over 6ft, minor Space Pilots Back Syndrome gives a shorter impression.
Age; Mid thirties.
Emotional state; Stable, under the circumstances.

The medical assessment read like a slavers auction notice, but this fellow was no slave, not in the literal meaning of the word. A servant, a soldier, a sucker. Yet it didn't feel forced, it felt like free will. What was the point though? A Zoner might ask. Who do you think you serve? A communist may preach. Why do you fight, when you are losing? A Gallic could propagandize. All valid questions, the answers to which held no meaning to Captain John Redmond, servant of the realm.

There is an old saying. Surviving the war is easier than surviving the peace. Which is fortunate, as peace has been long coming, especially for John. Two wars in quick succession. Surviving may be easy for a while yet. John has saw fit to return to the front, after many years piloting for the Leeds resistance, which, while you cannot call it the "back", was far from the real fight, the only fight that will sway this war, the one up there, in the stars.

John did not spare thought for the peace, it was as if there was no peace to be had, that this would go on forever. In a way, he wanted it to go on forever, battle stations was a station of comfort, a station which best not be departed from. There were fortunately no shortage of enemies at the gates.

Days since return to active service: 63.
Current location; HMS Venerable, Invincible-Class Bretonia Carrier, Planet Dover, New London System.
Current station; Battle stations.

He got the news like most Captains did, after the fact. It was on a need to know basis, the result of a leak - intentional or not - could be devastating, such is the nature of war. Having experienced the war against Kusari, the devastating effect surprise has was well known. The signs were there, for those that could see. Large concentrations of Liberty Siege Cruisers were poring from Cambridge in waves, via the super-gate in Poole, the threat was not lost on the Gallics, and they attempted with some success to blunt it.

But it was too much of a stretch, the route from the Cambridge Gate is a reasonable distance from the front, any attack faces considerable danger from forces stationed at Dover, and it is well within reach of response forces of the armada in New London orbit. Much was relying on the Corsairs. While a wily foe, their ability in large scale military operations, particularly involving heavy assets, is much to be desired, it is not their strength. That being said, it was cut very close, roughly half the complement of Cruisers were lost in the fracas, a heavy blow, but not heavy enough.

The Gallics must have expected the blow to fall on their front facing assets, a reasonable conclusion to make, as the Cruisers indeed headed to New London initially. This was not to be however. Who knows who concocted the plan to hit Southampton, via Dover, the Admiralty perhaps had revenge on their mind, for the loss of the York? No, as painful a loss as it were, one John felt strongly too, the logic behind the attack on the Gallic assets defending Southampton, and the vital artery for their push on New London, was to relieve pressure on New London, and to delay the eventual assault for more Liberty assets to join the front and tip the balance in the allied favor.

The attack focused on the nearest Valor to the Dover side, the Beuvray. Not much was known of this Battleship, other than it shared the ridged, cold aesthetic of its counterparts, and that it was recently pulled from Gallia proper to take part in the so called "final push". As such, little joy was felt when it was downed in the assault, only the relief that the attack was a success, and that progress was being made. Defeat is a bitter pill to swallow, one that has been forced down many times. But every victory, small or large, tastes the sweetest when preceded by loss. The York was avenged, regardless of whether that was the intent, and a good nights rest could be had tonight.

If only good news was just that, purely good news. It was not long into the night when the alert sounded.
Leftenant Harvey, tell me what in damnation is going on. barked Captain Redmond, in poor mood, being stirred from what was an almost pleasant sleep. Reports are still pending, but initial intelligence indicates a large Corsair battlegroup has evaded detection in Cambridge, and is steaming for Southampton as we speak, sir. the Lieutenant spoke, in an almost resigned tone, he knew, and he knew the Captain knew, that there was little to be done in this situation, the information came too late for any meaningful action to be taken. Commander, wake the pilots up and have them prep for a sortie into the field. Redmond spoke with an almost robotic tone, there is no stopping the battle-group and its rendezvous with the Gallics at Southampton, there were no assets available following the attack on the Beuvray, but a quick response sortie by fighters would at least give the Corsairs their first taste of front line combat, their inexperience and will to fight Gallias wars must, and will be tested thoroughly.

And so it was. A victory was gained, but one that was spoiled by the unperturbed introduction of Corsair assets to the front. Time will tell if assets they truly become. For John, an overbearing sense of helpless-less was felt. Unable to take part in the escort for the Liberty ships, nor privy to the attack that followed, John remained, as he had the day previous, biding his time.

Days since return to active service: 64.
Current location; HMS Venerable, Invincible-Class Bretonia Carrier, Planet Dover, New London System.
Current station; Battle stations.