Bretonian Armed Forces Recruitment Centre (iRP)

[Dieter Schprokets]

The Fleet Admiral's new Recruitment Officer brushed the cobwebs off the ancient oaken desk, and reflected that he would need to rewire the place.

Oh, and get computers.

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[Dejavu]

===Message Starts===
[color=#000000]Pilot Name: Commodore Bentley Ashers
[color=#000000]Date: 25-12-818

[color=#FFFFFF]

Subject

Recruitment Office Computers and re-wiring.


Comments

The work is complete, we now have computers!

The Bretonian Armed Forces are recruiting.

Signed, Commodore Bentley Ashers

[color=#000000]===Message Ends===

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Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid. - David Hackworth (1930 - 2005)

[Dieter Schprokets]

The recruitment officer's assistant dusted off the dozens of kegs of Whiskey.

"We really should tell people we give out grog again. Probably get more recruits then."

"Not sober ones, but teetotallers are lousy pilots."

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[GOLOD55]

Name: Sergey Kononov
Callsign: "defender"
ICQ 292226881
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Date of Birth: 782 AS, 29th December
Place of Birth: New London planet
Nationality: Bretonian

Fitness: sports
Height: 6 feet
Weight: 200 lbs
Vision: 10\10

Brief History of yourself and your family:
I born on New London planet. Father killed by Kusary at my 9 years old.
I came to a mining job at 20 year old and worked hard for my own family(wife and son).

Previous Medical History:
Clear

Combat experience:
Brave miner. Kusary, Outcast and Pyrate gunships killer.

Reasons for signing up for the Armed Forces:
I like Navy order and wish to defence lawfull people in Bretonian space.

List seven characteristics of your person:
-courageous
-sympathetic
-decent
-ordering
-tolerant
-calm
-diplomatic

PS I am the captain of full equipped Bretonian gunship and I ready to start the engine...

[Dieter Schprokets]

One here for the grog, I see.

Please answer the questions you will receive on private comms.

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[Gloom]

Good morning lads, name's Gallows, Irving Gallows.
I ain't exactly sure how to put this one here but my story's short an' simple.
Used to serve for the Queen already, Royal Marine, 21st Battalion, Leeds contingent, stationed on Stokes 'fore them Slants... I'm sorry, them Kusarians wiped most of us out and took the base over... think they call it 'Daisin' now... eitherway, I hear you're looking for men and I'd rather save you the sob-story of my honorable discharge were it up to me, but here goes.

Day when them Kusarians stormed the base was brutal. Cold and brutal. Blitzkrieg won't describe it and I'm sure most of y'all know darn-well the hell happened aboard. Fought for every little inch we did, tried to hold the line, evac as many as possible, get everyone out... mostly successful at that.
21st took heavy losses, most of my buddies died on the base that day. I guess you could say I was one of the lucky survivors leftover, but I don't know... been thinking I should have died that day but too many flesh wounds tend to get you a spot on an evac bird rather damn quick.

Was what happened to me and I got ferried out. Back to Derby medical at first, later back to Leeds.
Wanted to get back in service soon as I was on the way to recover, but got told no. Legs won't work proper anymore, there's days running ain't much of an option. Walking's more of a stumbling issue. Can't say I blame 'em for getting rid of me.

Had plenty of time to think y'know. Should I've died, should I've not.
Was just a couple months ago when I could look into the mirror and answer that one with a "no" and believe it. So then I sat down and thought some more. Thought what can I do. How can I help.
Most importantly though, I was thinking how, just how can I pay those bastards back in kind.

Hit me some day when I went back to my ol' home, visited my old man and my Ma. Pa used to fly cargo birds all over Sirius. Freighters and the like. So I saw that old bird rusting at pa's landing pad, remembered how he'd let me fly now and then in my young days as a wee little lad before I ended up in her Majesty's Marines.

You don't need to be able to run if all you do is fly birds through space, don't ya?
So what I did was take some of my savings, hit up a local flight school. See what I can do. Brush up my rusty skills. Couple days with the instructor and he said to me: "Laddie, ye got yeself a nat'ral talent fer flyin', ye do."

Things went on, would fly more, practice more. Basic combat in simulators, sometimes 'round the far end of Leeds, just exercises and the like. Can't say it was all a hundred percent legal but that's borderline important to Sla... Kusarians roaming the space around Leeds here and there.

Anyhow, it's months later now and here I am, an old lad who's just looking to do his part again.
Rough conditions, they don't bother me. Bad pay don't either. As long as you don't force me to run like a gazelle from somewhere to somewhere else, I'll do my part to help in the war.
All I'm asking in turn's a shot at good ol' lady vengeance.

You give me that and this ex-Marine's going to charge the gates of Slant-eyed hell for ya soon as you say the word. If you don't... well I've found the way here, I know the way out.

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[Dieter Schprokets]

Mr Gallows, welcome to the BAF. Your Templar awaits. Report to the Derby at 0700 H tomorrow.

Mr Sergey Kononov, please answer the follow-up questions you have been asked.

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[Rubber_Duck]

*incoming transmission*

Source: *somewhere in Leeds System*

Let me introduce myself, my name is Finlay O'Dukes. After i had been on work for the Mollies a lot of time... and the republic has been split, and only the separatist hardliners remaining... I was searching for the rest of my 4 brothers. One of 'em i already knew, that is Cormack. We stayed together for the last couple of years... one remains unknown. And one we found lately. It is Captain Ryan O'Dukes of |Convoy|.HMS-Gleaves. And he told us, that work for the Bretonian Armed Forces is the best we could do, to serve our country, and to hold down enemy invaders. Oi trust him, as he is the only one who saw something more of sirius the last times, and his best friend, [Convoy].Rubber_Duck, who serves as reserve fleet admiral for the BAF, in his current position in the [Convoy], shares his opinion.

That is why I choose to leave Dublin, out to the service of the Bretonian Armed Forces.

I (We) will serve her majesty, Queen Carina the 1st, with all its needs, and with my own life. If it is necessary, I will give it for here, to improve whatever Bretonia may have. I will donate my Molly Gunboat Command to you, signing up for the command of a Paladin HF, to give her majesties kingdom all the needs my oldest brother, Mr. Ryan O'Dukes, Captain of the |Convoy|.HMS-Gleaves, and his best friend, [Convoy].Rubber_Duck stand for. For Bretonia. For Crown and Country.

*transmission ends*

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[Dieter Schprokets]

Mr Finlay O'Dukes.

You will be issued a Paladin shortly. I understand you flew one in the reserves? Your rank of Lieutenant is maintained.

Please report to Salisbury for Academy training.

In the event of action, you will be pulled out of reserves to the Leeds front.

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[Pig_Pen]

*** Incoming transmission ***
***Connecting***
*** Opening video source ***

*A man can be seen, just filling a glass with irish whisky, then looking directly into the camera...*


Ladies 'n gentlemen, ye kno', dha's me offici'l post fer yer recruitation chann'l...

*** Opening transmission ***

SOURCE: Molly Barghest "Ol'_Radaitheoir"
COMMANDING OFFICER: Lt. Cormac O'Dukes
LOCATION: somewhere in the LEEDS SYSTEM


G'd ev'enin' Ladies 'n gentlemen,

Jus' 's oi've 'eard, ye lads 're a'ways search'n fer s'm poilot'st e foight back dhe feckin' Kusari roice munch'r scum. Well 'ere oi'm! jus' as one o' me broth'rs, a'ready workin' fer yer special wing...

'N as oi dun' wanna be a stooge fer dhe Mollys any longer, especially fer dhose feckin seperatists, oive decoided dhe wroit a post te yer recruitment office

Oi dhought 'bout joining yer ('s oi've seen well 'quipped forces) since me older broth'r tol' me he join'd yer special wing, too. An' all me brothers dher'n g'd ol' Dublin seem jus' a bit, well, le's say "radical" t' me dhe las' toimes...

Well, jus' 's ye moight wanna know s'mthin' 'bout me person:


DATE AND PLACE OF BIRTH: 798 at Arranmore, Dublin
PROFESSION: Worker at a melter in Londonderry
PILOT SKILLS: Not bad, bomber pilot o' dhe Mollys

*** Closing communication Link ***

CONNECTION LOST

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