It had been a long time coming, he thought as walked up the stairs to the BAF recruitment office, a very long time indeed. Turning his face skyward he took in a deep breath and steeled himself as he pushed open the doors and entered. Within the fairly small entry hall sat a little, middle-aged man occupying himself with the display of a fairly worn looking terminal. The door swung closed with an audible click and the man looked up from his work. "So, another 'un come for the honour, eh?" The recruitment officer's voice nasal and penetrating, it took an effort of will not to flinch. "What's it, then lad?", the officer continued, every syllable a nail dragged over the mental blackboard, "Speak up! I haven't got all bloody day!"
The newcomer straightened up and cleared his throat, his eyes locked on the officer's. "I'm here to join the armed forces, sir," he stated flatly, "I've come a long way for this and I'd prefer if we could dispose with the, uh, 'pleasantries'."
The officer's mouth made an odd, twisted shape like a slash in an old football and it took a moment for the newcomer to realise he was smiling. "Pleasantries, eh? Straight to the point, I like that. The Gallians certainly won't, and that makes me like it even more," the officer replied, snorting a little. "Well then, you'd best be giving me your name, age and a bloody good reason why the armed forces needs a wastrel like you, shouldn't you?" "Richard Timothy Skene," the newcomer declared, refusing to break eye contact with the abrasive little man,"I wish to join to reclaim the honour of my family name by defending Bretonia from whatever the universe may throw at it."
The recruitment officer began to cackle, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Honour, is it?," he asked, when the laughter subsided, "what would a wet-behind-the ears like you know about honour?"
Skene's eyes blazed as he placed his hands upon the desk and leaned closer to the officer. "My family fled during the Kusari incursions," he spat, "My father, an armed forces pilot, abandoned his post to take us with him. And, as a result, hundreds died as the Kusari slaughtered civilian vessels that he should have been defending. I have traveled for four years to get here, taking whatever work I could after I disowned my cowardly family."
The officer shifted a little uncomfortably in his chair and Skene straighened up. "That," he breathed, "is what I know of honour. Honour lost. Honour I will reclaim." "Well, Mr. Skene," the officer mumbled, trembling a little as he fumbled in a draw to retrieve a sheet of paper and a pen, both of which he handed to Skene, "you just fill in this - sections a through e, if you'd please - and we'll see if we can't find a space for you."
Taking the form, he finally seated himself and begad to answer the banal questionnaire, his mind fixed firmly on the thought of civilians he would - no, had to - protect.
At the recruitment center he comes a person who patiently waits his turn for the recruitment to the BAF. Sid Fire just waiting for that moment to join a group of professionals.
When it was his turn he came into the recruitment room and after a series of discussions were obtained this information from the recruit: http://discoverygc.com/wiki/Sid_Fire
Sid then asked the recruiter to privatize all of its features (name, surname, date of birth, parents) to the other people for security reasons. Sid, since childhood he did not want to show at his unknown contacts and personal and family characteristics remained an anonymous person on the Internet.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, I, Piombo65 for security reasons I can not reveal my name, surname, date of birth and family (if ever the application form will ask ).
. Richard Timothy Skene started to answer the questions on the questionnaire.
After Finishing and giving the full piece of paper back to the officer who didn't say much this time took it and shoved it through the drawer slot behind his desk.
"Your request to join the Armed Forces is being checked over." He mumbled and indicated him to shove off.
. Sid Fire, your request to join the Armed Forces is being checked over.
In the meantime sign the documents which have been sent to you.
“This font is good people said, this font is awesome others said, I say it works well enough to waste 2 seconds of your life reading this.”
Vincent was wondering what the recruitment office would look like, as he carefully landed his battle-scarred pelican on a nearby landing pad. He at least hoped that he could keep his pelican if he joined, as it was his first ship and only ship, and he was quite attached to it. As he walked up the steps, he thought of his family, on new London, and how much better he would feel if he felt they were more safe.
After queuing for 4 hours, finally Vincent was told to step into the interview room. He took a seat at the desk, where the recruitment officer was sat. "So then, Mr...Camwell is it?" "Yes sir, Vincent Camwell, and I've come to join the armed forces!""OK, I know that, now, here we have a data file on you, from all the encounters our boys have had with you in space..." He passed the card to Vincent who sat there, bewildered. "Blimey! You've got all my information on this thing..." "Aye, we know all about the frequent flyers in Bretonian space"
Vincent examined the card more closely:
Quote:
Data file number 5648592098574
Name: Vincent Philip Camwell
Age: 25
Ship(s): A heavily modified pelican 'Plucky-2'
Profession: Freelancer Trader and escort for Bretonian convoys
Notable actions: Saved a convoy of BMM traders from a Molly attack, and has 56 kills that were enemies of Bretonia, 5 being Gallic fighters that were attacking a Bowex convoy near leeds.
Biography: Born and brought up on planet New London. First worked as a mechanic in a local shipyard, but bought and started piloting a pelican 'Plucky-2' at the age of 21. Then started doing freelance escorting and trading with Bretonian convoys, never leaving an enemy pilot to escape alive. Did this sort of work for his other 4 years of life.
Criminal activity: None found
"Now that you've read your own record...Why did you read through that anyway? It's your bloomin' life!" "Just a matter of interest, sir" "Well anyway, here's the form you have to fill out...though ye can skip the bit about your life, we've got it all here..." He prodded the data file.
Vincent filled out the form quietly and efficiently, until he got to the last question: Why do you want to join the armed forces? Vincent just copied down the thoughts that had been bothering him all that morning. "To protect my family, to protect the monarchy, to protect Bretonia." Vincent quickly signed the form, and passed it to the recruitment officer, who shoved it quickly into the pile of the other forms. "All right, everything is in order, we will decide whether or not you've got the right stuff for the armed forces, though I don't personally think that pelican of yours is gonna do much to scare the Gallics..."
[/color]"I assure you sir, my pelican has a large array of the finest anti-fighter weaponry, it has a spirit of iron, it has Bretonian spirit and lastly, it has a legendary record, both for speed and for killing power"
[/color]The officer snorted "If ye say so son, but anyway we'll send ye a reply soon, if you aren't killed brutally out there in space..."He grinned. "Ta-ta for now"
Vincent nodded, got up, and left the room quietly, thinking of some new modifications he could make to his prized ship, just to prove that it wasn't a piece of rubbish from the Southampton debris field...It was Plucky-2, and that's all that mattered to him.
The sound of heavy, thick-soled boots on the hard floor echoed beyond the recruitment office. The pace was brisk and with purpose, heading up the steps towards the office door. The handle was turned and the door swung wide, a broad man entering the room. His features were worn and hardened, with a weathered, tanned complexion. He looked to be middle-aged, with dark brown hair sporting streaks of grey accompanied by a thick, full beard that was trimmed and neatly maintained. His apparel was fairly basic with a simple bandolier over his broad chest. As he approached the recruitment officer, he came to a halt, clasping his hands behind his back and widening his stance to shoulder-width.
The officer leaned forward, interlocking his fingers as he looked over the seasoned man."Name?"
"Richard Sterling, sir." The burly enlistee had the accent of a working man, but he articulated himself well and as formally as he could.
"What're you here for, Mister Sterling?"
"I'm here to enlist in the B.A.F, sir."
The officer leaned back into his chair, drawing up a flask hidden away in one of his drawers and taking a brief swig before looking back to Richard. "You're older than the average plucky enlistee who runs in here."He says bluntly.
"Aye, sir. I've been working for most of my life as a transport and freighter pilot and partially as a convoy escort on the trade lanes through Bretonia and Liberty. Currently flying a Firefly, but I can operate a fighter damn well if I say so myself, sir."Richard says with a hint of confidence.
"So why are you leaving that life behind?"The officer asks curiously, leaning forward again as his interest is piqued.
Sterling takes a deep breath, pausing for a brief moment as he ponders on the question.".. There comes a time in a man's life when he questions what he's doing -- where he's going. I want to do something that matters, that myself and my family will be able to take pride in."
The officer nods solemnly, rifling through the drawers as he prepares the forms. "Sign here, Mister Sterling and you'll need to fill out these forms."
Sterling approaches the desk, planting a calloused hand on the woodwork as he looks over the documents. Once everything was in order, the enlistee stood upright and looked to the officer. With the waving of a hand he was dismissed."Thank you, Mister Sterling. You'll be contacted promptly."
Greetings, honorable admirals. My name is Daniel Walls and I am now captain of Bretonia Destoyer. I am serving now in Secondary Fleet. I havent fought with Gauls yet, because of situation in Cortez. But my Destroyer is ready to fight and I want to apply for Primary Fleet to fight Gauls, for Bretonia! I have some pilot skills and I sure I will learn more If you will apply me to Primary Fleet.
Having read through the newest requests and applications for the Armed Forces Mike had to chuckle when he read the special request of that one lad with his Pelican.
We'll see how he handles that ship, will be interesting at least.
. Vincent Philip Camwell, Richard Timothy Skene, your requests to join the Bretonia Armed Forces have been granted, I'll see you at the flight Deck.
. Sid Fire, the Files have been checked over and did not meet the required standarts. Your application has been denied.
. Daniel Walls, Richard Sterling, your requests to join the Bretonia Armed Forces are being checked over right now. Fill out the Files that you've received and we'll get this done faster.
“This font is good people said, this font is awesome others said, I say it works well enough to waste 2 seconds of your life reading this.”
(07-13-2013, 12:27 PM)Xelon Wrote: . Sid Fire, the Files have been checked over and did not meet the required standarts. Your application has been denied.
May I know what are my characteristics that do not satisfy?
"Mister Richard Sterling, we do require you to fly a fighter. Your Firefly, however, could be transferred to the Merchant Navy. We hope you will fulfill our expectations. Welcome, Ensign. And take care".
"Mister Daniel Walls, I hope you command the destroyer that has been entrusted to you better than you have answered these questions. Besides that, under what circumstances do you think your destroyer would simply be reassigned from the secondary to the primary fleet? The question was rhetorical, of course. Don't answer me, please, and in fact, better don't even listen to my needless twaddle. The Leeds front can't afford a minute of lazing. If you find some time, you might want to apply again later".
).
![[Image: 396AUfe.png]](https://i.imgur.com/396AUfe.png)