Outwardly, Deneth's reaction to the officer's suspicion was hardly noticeable, but present nonetheless. His military background dulled out his emotional expressiveness, but his young age betrayed him.
Immediately, he replied: "Sir... I understand your concern and I do not hold it against you. I am aware that there are various factors involved... that make me a potentially dangerous element to handle. But sir... I've come here with nothing. Nothing but the burden of the wrong choices I've made back in Rheinland. Nothing but several bounties on my head. Nothing... but the sheer weight of an entire nation that despises me and wants me dead. As a matter of fact, I talk as if Rheinland was my homeland but..." He sighs, then continues: "I cannot consider myself a Rheinlander anymore. By my failure to see what was really going on in time... I've betrayed more people than I ever thought was even possible..."
He carries on, the sound of his voice gaining in honesty: "But I did not come here simply to escape death. If that was my only intent, I would have managed otherwise. You're asking me why I came here... you're asking me why should the Armed Forces take me in... why I want to join the Bretonian Armed Forces? I am here to repent. I do not seek forgiveness from the people I've let down. I do not seek pardon from the country in which I was born. I seek forgiveness from myself! I want to be of positive use. I want to be able to tell myself "I am accomplishing something good." or "I am helping others". This is what I've always strived for!"
He pauses to catch his breath, then continues: "This is why I initially wanted to be a fighter pilot with the Rheinwehr. This is why I joined the Red Hessians upon realizing that the Gottkanzler's forces will never be of any good to it's people! That's why I sold my ship, ALL my belongings and escaped with nothing once I figured out that the "Hessian way" was no better and above all... this is why I'm here."
He stops to pace himself, this was the first time he spoke so freely in quite a long time.
"Look, mein herr... that you might believe all of this might be part of some theatric act, I can accept it fully. If you believe that I am too big of a security breach, you may arrange for my deportation at once. I'll accept the consequences of my actions, even if that implies the firing squad. Perhaps that really may be the only way to rid myself of my guilt. However, sir, this much I vow. I know no one here. I know nobody outside Rheinland. I have no means to contact even my family there. In front of you, sir, lies a man who has lost... quite literally everything. Even his country. My desire to recycle myself into something good is true and genuine. I want... I want to protect the innocent. I'd give anything to do so."
He inhales one, final time. His tone is sober and markedly lower than before.
"This... is why I think the Armed Forces should accept me. If that is not possible, for whatever reason... that is OK. But... is it really that unreasonable for a person in my situation to ask for an opportunity to repair himself and by extension, protect others?"
Deneth stands in front of the man's desk, solemn, eyes locked on the person sitting in front of him. His face indicates no expectation, simply the expression of a man that said what he needed to say for a long time.
A small smirk appeared on his face, as he took in the mans compelling story.
"In all my months of being a pilot in the Armed Forces, I do have to say that was one of the most impressive stories I've heard." He paused and took in a deep breath "I do have to say, Aleski, you remind me of myself when I was a lieutenant, and now."
He paused, "You've had the recommendation from the Fleet Admiral, himself, for the Bretonian Police, however you came here first. If you really believe you can serve Her Majesty as a pilot in the Armed Forces, then all the luck to you. As you've came here with nothing, I'm willing to give you the chance to make something out of that nothing. You'll be assigned to the 5th Fleet Suffolk, Admiral Percy Nelles is the commanding officer of the Suffolk. Commodore Moore is the commanding officer of the flight you've been placed in."
He paused again, "You'll be given a room for free, and a standard issued sidearm, which you can get from the quarter master. You'll also need to sign this release form before you're able to leave this office. Welcome aboard Ensign Aleski. This form states that all lent property will be given back in the event that you decide to go AWOL."
He scribbled his signature on a piece of paper, then slid it forwards. After a minute he took to his feet and extended his hand. "Welcome Aboard."
As he listened to the person speak in front of him, assigning him to the 5th Fleet Suffolk, a large, frank smile took over the young man's face. His eyes glistened upon realizing the opportunity he was given. For a short time, he could not pace the onslaught of words that wanted to spill out of his mouth... quite uncharacteristic of a former Rheinland officer cadet.
"Sir... I... I cannot thank you enough... I... I don't know what to say! I'm honoured- MORE than honoured to serve Her Majesty and the people of Bretonia!"
In a rare moment of absolute joy, he extends his hand and gives the man a firm handshake.
He bends down to sign the form handed to him by the man sitting behind the desk. He eagerly signs it.
"Thank you, danke schon... I promise you... I will not let Bretonia down and I will become something... something good. Thank you."
The young man walked into the recruitment centre and immediately paused, assaulted at once by posters of Queen Carina, ministers of state, admirals, corporate titans, and other celebrities all telling him how much Bretonia needed his service.
A little overkill? he thought.
He paused and collected himself before continuing to walk to the recruiter's desk. There sat a smartly dressed officer - ironed, starched, and looking quite official. The recruiter noticed the young man and stood up to greet him.
"Good day! I'm Lieutenant Goodspeed, chief recruiter here as the east Oxford recruiting office. How may I help you?" He looks soft, the recruiter thought to himself.
"Hello," said the young man, somewhat hesitantly. "I'm interested in joining the BAF."
"Well of course you are," said the recruiter with a little too much enthusiasm. "Might I have your name?"
"Nathaniel Buchanan - you can call me Nate," said the young man, with a hint of a wince as he spoke.
"Welcome, Nate. Have a seat, will you? Tell me about yourself," said the recruiter, pouring some tea for the visitor.
"Well, I just graduated from Cambridge with a degree in interstellar politics, and I wanted to do something a little more..."
"Real?" offered the recruiter, unable to help himself.
"Tangible," corrected Nate. "I care a lot about Bretonia, especially having studied its history and its relations with the other Houses over the centuries. Now with the Kusari, pirate attacks, and the rumors from Orkney, I really want to protect my people. Especially those out and about just trying to make a living." Nate paused. "I've lost a couple of friends to pirates in the last few months, and I want to help make that stop."
"A noble sentiment, indeed, my good man," agreed the lieutenant. "But what makes you think you're up to snuff? We usually get people who are a bit more..." and the recruiter looked Nate over, "seasoned. Are you tough enough for the job?"
"I think so," said Nate confidently, narrowing his eyes at the recruiter. He had expected this, as though somebody with a college education was somehow less courageous, less fit for hard work, less committed. "I'm an able pilot, and I wouldn't have come in if I wasn't willing to do what it takes, Lieutenant. I need combat training, but I'll work hard."
"Fair enough, young man. No offense intended. Here, let me get the application form...oh, I see you have one." Nate handed over all the preparatory paperwork, already completed.
"I do my homework, sir," he said.
The recruiter looked over the forms. Top gradeshigh aptitude test scoresmay be worth a look.
"Very well, Mr. Buchanan..." said the lieutenant, looking at him again with some scrutiny. "You know, you look familiar. Buchanan...Buchanan...Wait-" Nate steeled himself - he knew this was coming. "You don't happen to be related to Alisdair Buchanan, the old Gateway chair, do you?" the recruiter asked suspiciously.
"Yes, he's my uncle." Here it goes, Nate thought to himself.
"The Alisdair Buchanan who opposes the war with Kusari?"
"Yes, though he's always said he supports the men and women of the BAF - he just doesn't want people dying more than neces..."
"Doesn't he oppose the Queen?" demanded the recruiter, now sitting a bit more stiffly at the edge of his chair.
"Not personally, no. He just wants a more representative gov..."
"But he's a populist!" declared the lieutenant, clearly disturbed by the thought.
"But he was knighted by Her Majesty, too..." reminded Nate. That caught the recruiter off guard a bit.
"But..."
"Look, sir," interrupted Nate. "I came in here today of my own accord. My uncle and I don't agree on everything, but we do both love Bretonia. And that's why I'm here. If you can't use another pilot, then you can reject me, but I'd like to see what the BAF thinks of my application first."
The recruiter calmed down. The chap's earnest, for certain, he thought. Well, maybe this will give the boys a good laugh, if nothing else.
"Very well, Mr. Buchanan. I will submit your application through the proper channels, and you should hear back in fairly short order."
"Thank you Lieutenant," said Nate, rising out of his chair. "I appreciate your time."
Well, this ought to be interesting... Nate thought to himself as he walked out of the office.
Mister Buchanan, currently read over your portfolio that was sent to me by Lieutenant Goodspeed in the Oxford recruitment centre. I'll need you to come down to the main recruitment centre on Planet Leeds.
Signed,
Lieutenent Commander Austin Goodmen
[Transmission Terminated]
Austin leaned back in the chair and let out a light sigh. Nathaniel Buchanan, Sir Alisdair Buchanan's nephew. Highly respected individual, this should be quite interesting. He thought to himself picking up the file that sat infront of him, and opening it. "Well, time to wait."
Nate Buchanan stepped into the main office of the Leeds Recruitment Centre, the central processing point for applicants to the Armed Forces.
"May I help you," asked the aide at the front desk.
"Uh, yes...I'm here to see Commander Goodmen about my application," Nate replied.
"Of course. One moment, please."
Within mere minutes, the door to the back office opened and an officer stepped out, looking directly at Nate as though he knew exactly who Nate was and why he was there.
"Greetings, Mr. Buchanan. Won't you come this way?"
Nate sat, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. The commander had stepped out some time ago to retrieve a file or something, and Nate was tempted to look out to see what had happened to him. He was anxious to get started.
Patience, Nate thought to himself. It will all come soon enough, and then you'll wonder what you got yourself into...
Austin stepped through the doors again, and glanced over at the young man that was sitting in the waiting chair in the recruitment office. "Ah, Mister Buchanan." He said calmly, walking around the desk and then taking a seat, laying a profile on top of the desk.
"Right, let's see what we have here." He mumbled a bit, shifting through the paperwork. After a few minutes of shifting through the paperwork, he neatly stacked it and placed his hands over it and looked up.
"Nathaniel Buchanan, we'll start off small. Tell me, lad. Why are you interested in joining the Armed Forces?"
Austin was completely aware of the report that was given to him by Lieutenant Goodspeed, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
"Well, Sir," Nate began, "I'm wanting to join something bigger than myself, something in which I can prove myself and maybe even work my way up to a respectable position. I've had odd jobs here and there, but I've mostly been a student - my studies, my program, my flat, that sort of thing. It's not for the money or the career advancement - I could get those plenty of other places. I'm ready to be active in something more...significant. Something where I can be part of a group and we can count on each other."
Nate paused. Goodmen continued eyeing him closely. "I also want to protect my people. I want Leeds back, of course - all of it. But more than the Kusari, I want the pirates out of here. Two of my best mates were killed over the past few months flying for trading firms around Bretonia and between here and Rheinland. One was hit by Corsairs, the other by some indie hack pirate or something..." Nate's voice had become a bit strained. "I want to stop that. I want people protected while they're going about their day, working to make a living. They don't need the Kusari threat in the north and pirates breathing down their necks in the east and south, too..." Nate trailed off.
"Very well," said Goodmen. "And what about your uncle?"
"My uncle watches over me pretty closely, sir, but he's always let me be my own man. This is something I know I need to do. He'll be able to handle it. Like I told the recruiter, Uncle Alisdair's always respected the BAF - they've always enthusiastically protected Gateway, and Gateway's even helped them out in a spot or two. Just the other day, in fact, he mentioned being escorted all the way from New London through Cortez by a BAF pilot. That's what I want to do. I want people to know they can carry on because I'm at their side. I think he'll be able to appreciate that."
"I guess that covers it," Nate finished, a bit awkwardly.
Austin nodded lightly, and picked up a pencil, scribbling something down yet again on another piece of paper.
"Your uncle is a good man," He winced slightly and grumbled something under his breath, "As are you." He finished leaning back in the chair and glancing over at the terminal. "Ensign Buchanan," He proclaimed, "You'll be assigned the 7th Great Derby Fleet. Admiral Fraser is in command of the Fleet. You'll be operating under the command of Commodore James Hobart. Upon arrival, to the Derby, you'll be escorted to your quarters. You'll need to talk to your quarter master to retrieve your standard issue pistol." He paused and turned his attention back to the Ensign.
"You'll need to fill out this form before I can let you leave this office. The form states that any and all property lent out, will be returned to the Crown and Her Majesty's forces if you decide to go AWOL." He pushed the piece of paper forwards, and handed a pen to him.
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