I am writting to you in order to inform you that I, Lorf William Curtis, from the House of Curtis, Planet Leeds, have decided to comission two vessels to your fleet. We are enraged with these cheese-eater-frog-hugger invaders, and wish to help. As the two pilots that I will assign to these vessels are officers of the Armed Forces who do not belong to the regular ranking chart because they are at the private service of House of Curtis, I thought that their efforts would be better focused if they served in the Privateers.
I gently ask you to accept Cpt. George Wilson, pilot of a Templar class VHF, and my own eldest son, Lord James Curtis, pilot of a Challenger class bomber, in your fleet. We only wish the worst for these gauls, and we will do our best to bring them to that fate.
With no other particular,
Lord William Curtis, House of Curtis, Planet Leeds
[color=#33CC00]. Cpt. George Wilson and Lord James Curtis if you really want to serve in the privateers, which we "do not know" then follow the triple breasted lady until you reach hangar 3. She will point you the "way" to the privateer base which we "do not know" as well.
I wanted to tell you that I am on my way to follow that lady into the hangars, but it seems that young Lord James did not want to follow his father's orders and instead enlisted himself on the 13th Northern fleet. Anyways, I will be joining you in no time.
A slightly skinny man, about 5"10' in height, walked into the recruitment office and silently closed the door behind him. He walked quickly to the recruitment officer's desk, and stopped in front of it, scratching his arm. The officer looked up from his paperwork, running his eyes over the new arrival. When the man showed no signs of saying anything, the officer prompted him. "Well? I assume you're here for recruitment, have a seat." The man sat down in a plain chair, and watched as the officer pulled out a few papers from the desk drawer. "Alright lad, lets start with a name. shall we?" The man stared for a moment, then responded.
"David Burne, Sir."
"Very good, and lets see, you are joining the Bretonian Armed Forces, correct?"
"Yes Sir."
The Officer scribbles something down, then continues. "Okay, anything about your family? Drop the Sir this time, things will go faster."
"Um, alright, my mother, Alexis Burne, stayed at home taking care of me, cleaning the house and the like. My father, Anthony Burne, is a scientist working in Cambridge. Oh yeah, I live on Cambridge, and so does my family. No siblings either Si... Officer." David was getting more comfortable talking to the recruiter, thoughts of completely bombing it floating away.
"Good, good. Any particular reason you would want to join the Armed Forces, lad?"
"Well, my father had, at least early on, wanted me to pursue a career in science, but he learned I wasn't really into that stuff. I had an interest in flight and space, and when taking classes, I learned more in depth about the war with Kusari and Gallia. I wanted to protect our nation, and in the case of Gallia, all of Sirius. This is very simply, what I want to do."
The Officer writes a few last notes down, then smiles and looks up.
"Well, soon enough someone will look at your application, and then we'll contact you to tell you if you're Armed Forces material. Well, off you go now."
David stood from the chair, and thanked the Officer for his time. He opened the door, and walked confidently out the room. He thought that he had a good chance of being Armed Forces material.
[color=#33CC00]. David Burne, your application to join the armed forces is granted. Send me your S.K.Y.P.3 coordinates so I can add you to our transmission. Prepare your fighter and bomber as soon as possible, you will need them both...
It was another bussy afternoon in the Recruitment Center, the officers on duty had their hands full with work.
The queue was huge and some already sat here before the office opened other just left before they could get the chance to sign up to defend the soil on witch they lived.
Under the waiting people was Mike.Havering who was the next in line.
"Mike.Havering" "Yes sir. Im here for the Recruitement."
The officer looks at him slightly amused. "Well you're not the only one for that, i belive you noticed that."
Not sure if he was making fun of him Mike just started speaking why he wanted to join the BAF. "I would like to join the Bretonia Armed Forces sir, I wanted to enlist earlier but those Frogs shoot down my Miningship in Leeds. I would like to returne the favour."
Not convinced the officer replied: "Well if it's only that you could just as well become a Freelancer and hunt them on your own, why go through all this?" "You misunderstand sir, I don't wanto get revenge for what they did to me, I wanto make them pay for that they thought they could just walk into our beloved Homland and take it over without any resistance. That goes against every fibre of my body, I could fight them on my own but i'm just one man and couldn't make a difference."
Mike takes a breath and continues. "You need every man you can get against this foe and with the right training I can make those bastards pay a high price for entering into Bretonia."
The officer looks at Mike and says nothing for a short time. "Very well, since you couldn't fill these papers like everybody else did i'll have to send you to the commanding officer that is here or you'll slow things down even more, Wiliams bring this man to the commanding officer and tell him he wants to sign up for the Bretonia Armed Forces."
“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.”
A small thin man walks into the office. His face unshaven and his hair uncombed. The recruitment officer looks up and notices him.
"Fine weather we're having. Hasn't rained in days."
"Oui monsieur, even the few days I have been here, it has been beautiful."
The man had a very different accent than normal.
The Recruitment officer looked up at the man and asked, "Name?"
"Antione, Antione Castille."
"Ah, so your a Frenchy, haven't had one of those in a while. Last one we had, well, he was being sent to his execution."
the recruitment officer smiled with a toothy grin,"What brings you to this part of the galaxy."
"I was imprisoned on New Paris, under false pretenses. Then a few Sirians burst through the door, coming to save a fellow comrade. There was only a few prisoners and they let most of them out. All of them fled, except for me. I followed these men, they called themselves privateers. They took me to their ship and they took me here, Bretonia. Even today I am in debt to them."
There was a moment of silence, then the officer said,
"That was quite a story. So you want to join the Armed Forces..."
"Oui monsieur."
"Obviously you speak well enough English, but since you aren't a Bretonian, I'm going to have to make you fill out these forms."
The officer dug around in the file cabinets and found what he was looking for. He pulled out a large stack of papers and out of them, he only pulled 3 papers.
"Fill out these and then I'll send them in."
Antione filled the papers out and handed them in to the recruitment officer.
"Thank you sir, an officer will contact you soon."
"Merci, au revoir."
The Gaul got up and walked out of the office.
. Mike Havering, your application is accepted. Prepare your ship as soon as possible and contact high ranking member for combat training in salisbury.
Read the following Manuals, to get more information about Bretonia Laws and Military career requirments:
-"QCA Diplomacy Manual"
- "Bretonia Ranking System"
. Antione Castille, I have sent you both recruiting tests. Fill the blanks, resend them to me and I will contact you again.
A Rough looking tall young man walks into the BAF recruitment office and stops to take a look around ''huh ah' fort' it'd lookah' bit more grim in ere' t'be honest...actually done a good job of decorating the place'' he says sarcastically as he picks up an info sheet from the desk and notices the sheet is covering a gaping hole.He Mumbles to himself as he reads the sheet "shzhzhsh serve the queen bla bla bla...defeat the gaillic invaders..rarrarara" "Ahah" he says in joy "Free ship setup! ...where do i sign" An oldish woman behind the recruitment desk looks up at the man over her glasses and frowns "I hope thats not all your here for young man"she whines He looks startled as if he hadn't noticed her there. "Ah , ahem.. ah' course not ma'am i'm here for the Travel.... and to learn new skills ... and err.. well..." He pauses " ok lady i will cut t'tha chase... ima' damn bloody good fighter pilot, Currently wi'out a set ah decent wings..So whadda' thought was i would sign up teh' BAF and serve me Beloved Bretonia t'best ah' mah abilities. Being an escort f' jumped up haulers all th' time is a bit of a bore, the pay is weak an' to be quite honest pirates are becoming soft...i need a challenge" The woman looks surprised "I see so your not just here for the free wings, well in that case I will need a few details from you before I can give you a full application form" "aye whatever ya need luv'" The lady looks at her computer screen and says in a droning voice "Ok Name, Age, Current employment, Civ Number, and short background"The man Leans over the desk. " Ok luv' mah names Stuart Carrighan, Ah'm 23, Currently unemployed.. ah cancelled all me freelance escort contracts ah' had. Civ number is .." He thinks for a minute "no i cant remember it" Opens his wallet and starts spouting the numbers on the card he pulled out. " civ number is 001387 and well ah'ma Bretonia citizen born on New london, Mah' parents wah' both factory workers, they've retired now... I spent mah' childhood doing the usual goin' school helpin out doin odd jobs f' mah folks, Kicking the crap outta school bullies"He Chuckles. "Then around age ah' 17 then ah got a job working for the planet side branch of a security firm who flew escort for Bowex freighters between the Different cities. The noticed how good ah pilot ah' was and threw me into a falcon and up into the space between" The man gets up off the desk "That do yah'?" The woman finishes typing and hands the man a form..