The clerk at the desk, a pretty, if boring, young lady, looked at Hieggen and sighed, shaking her head.
"Good luck," she said, adding a whispered, "you'll need it..."
He was then led into the recruitment office to meet Admiral Andrews, and was immediately hit by the stench of strong liquor and narrowly missed by a laser bolt from a smoking pistol in the unkempt recruiter's hands.
"Argh! Dammit, they sent ninjas after me! Give up and explain yourself, you rice poisoning bastard!"
A young, fine looking man with a short macho crew cut hair and a shaved beared came inside he adjusted his tie to just be as smart as he could be, whilst he came down the white painted coridor inside the Britonian Armed services department, the electrical doors gave a buzz as they glided open to let the gentlemen inside. It was a small room with a table in the middle drapped in the Britinian Armed Forces flag, he paused for a moment admiring the flag's dark maroon colour, before he moved closer and grapped one of the applications from a large pile neatly stacked. He leant forward taking one of the fourms while trying not to touch or nock the flag out of position. When he got one of the applications he rose up to take in the full beaty of pictures and medals from past Armed Forces Pilots. He did notice one medal more so than the rest, he walked up to it. It was the victroian cross, underneath was a solid gold stamp with some writting "For his Admiral actions in the Kusari war. David Roberts is awarded the victorian corss, he is a inspiration to us all" He stood in amazment and then whispered "It will be me"
He peered around the room looking for a good place to sit to make his life deciding career and most possibly the biggest life threatening decision ever, but he quickly pushed this to the back of his head. He sat down at a table underneath the medal for luck and inspiration he then got out his pen and began to write.
Last Name: Edwards
First Name: Gregory
Gender: Male
Age: 26
He thought to himself as he had written in the four boxes on the top of the sheet "Looking good so far..." History
I was born on Planet leeds in a little town just off to the Maranon sea. I have had a good education throughout my childhood i went to my local primary school followed onto the Brimsgrove Private school until I was 18. I then left home to the big city of leeds and got a flat in the Avon University just outside the built up areas. In Avon university i took a two year course in mechanics and Enginering. I did my best because the enermy was pushing us back and we were thier next target. I then went to the Flight school for civilians on the planet to learn some combat if we were ever drafted into combat. After sleepless nights i decided the armed forces need pilots and men and women to help and i had to do my part.
FLight Experiance
I have got a 4 year course on leeds Combat Flight school i was always put into the higher sets in the training because i was always better than the rest in my class. I then reached Elite civilain combat level in my thrid year and was advised to try and sign up. I was very skilled in the Gunboat i do like thier design for all firepower at the front for baragges. I am very good with the cursader, I can fly the bomber but in combat it wouldn't be wise.
Reasons for Signing up
I am worried for my family and also I am fit enough and most capable for the skills required, I am very sociable and good at reasoning hostile situations so i thought for traders i could be most helpful. I am a good mechanic so i know were everything goes on majority of the standard issue Britonian armed forces vessels. I am fit enough and physicly cable of combat and training. i believe the enermy comes I must do my part.
He folded the letter looking extremly pleased with what he had written. He walked around to the front desk were a women looked at him and then took the aplication from him and told him he will be told if hes right for the Armed forces. He then looked down the room to the door and proudly strolled out.
A mildly shirt figure walks through the recruitment centre's doors draped in black clothing which shone from the damp layer covering the waterproofed fabrics of his outfit, "The umbrella done nothing!" he huffs to himself as he tucks up the item and pulls a dry, small cloth from under his top using it to brush down the two tall ears that perked upright almost a foot from the top of his silky, black, waist-length hair.
"I'm gonna' smell of dank fur when I get home." he mutters moving over to the application desk to collect a form, rubbing down his short muzzle with the cloth. It caused most of his fur to clump together and stand on end. Tucking the little cloth away he picks up a form and moves over to a close table where he sits down and starts to fill out the form's details:
Name: Takara "Tak" Wylde
Sex: Male
Age: 22
Height: 4' 8"
Weight: 92lbs
<strike>Station</strike>/Planet of birth: Planet Cambridge
Your reason for this Application
I used to be a small, insignificant trader who hauled goods between all systems specifically Bretonia and Kusari. With so much tension between factions now it's caused thousands of my earned credits to be wasted from stock repossession by Kusari forces as well as lengthy damage costs. I feel I would be better suited to assisting my fellow Bretonians by keeping our economy going in an actual Mass Trade Profession, specifically funding our armed forces against this threat on our beloved doorstep. (!)
Details of your Background/History
When I first got my hands on a ship back when I was 19 I was rather green. With help from friends and family as well as assistance from the Bretonia Forces in fire-fights during my few months as a freelancer suppressing pirate ships, I've managed to build my own little fortune as well as a moderate reputation as a good fighter pilot. Though the past two years I've seen more trading than fighting, albeit, I'm not as 'hot' in a fighter as I once was.
Details of your Piloting Experience
I have flown numerous ships, nothing big though, my range of experience reaches from Light Fighters, to Very Heavy Fighters and Small Freighters. I'm looking to expand this to other area's including Transports and eventually Trains. And maybe a brief time as a Bomber pilot.
Details of Previous Combat Experience
I've had minor Light Arms skirmishes on planets and stations due to my Freelancer work, it also brought me up to speed on most pirate ships, strengths and weaknesses. However, when it came to anything increasingly difficult, like bases and weapon platforms, I was merely a back-hand person watching someone's back. However, depending on my ship and rig, I can handle a few pirate fighters myself."
Tak chirrs quietly as he reads over what he just wrote down, making the one or two corrections to his spelling. Giving a nod in satisfaction he picks up the slightly damp sheet of paper and takes it over who looked important to him, as he didn't really know the rank insignias,
//Would just like to say i have re-written i did use anothers aplication for a template before but since i have been told its not advised i have re-written it from scratch soo please tell me of the resault i am eager to know. sorry about the cock up. :$
While sat waiting Tak pulls a small food container from one of his massively baggy and frilly sleeves, opening it to pull out a Thermos or hot tea and some tasty warm crumpets for a snack. He goes about snacking on crumpets and sipping his delightful Earl Grey while reading a newspaper,
"Ah... Mishter Edwards..." slurred the Admiral, annoyed that Nelles has mislabelled the bottle.
"Right... some queshtions..."
"First... one about your shkills as a pilot..."
He was obviously holding the gentleman's form upside down. Nevertheless, he, apparently miraculously, continued.
"You say here that you preferably wouldn't fly a bomber in combat... can you tell me, in three words or less, when you would fly one?"
He shuffled his papers, turning them around more than was necessary, then noticed some weird, large furry thing that had entered afterwards.
"Secondly... why the hell did you bring a dog in here? This isn't Sputnik, dammit! And why is it wearing clothes!? Only complete and utter wankers dress their pets!"
He Listened carefully to the question being asked so he undertsood every word before he made his answer. He pasued trying to think of a three worded answer then he opened his mouth.
"Capital Ship Threat"
He coughed to trying and calm his nerves for the following question.
After hearing the question he was baffled by it. He honestly could not think of a reply so he asked without trying to sound rude or absent minded...
He pointed at the large dog, now eating crumpets that it must have stolen from his secretary. It was sitting on a newspaper. A large name tag read 'Tak'.
"Well, it certainly isn't mine. Mind getting rid of it?"
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