"As with the coming of the Gallic threat, Bretonian Armed Forces are in a hurry of gathering they're troops as fast and possible, mobilizing new cadets to strengthen their ranks. Planet Leeds is being evacuated due to its fragile location situated on the borders of the Gallian Kingdom."
A family of 3 children and they're parents are standing in front of a Clydesdale, ready for transport to a safer place. One of the children, the eldest one, a boy, is arguing with his father. In the end there's just 2 children and the parents who climb aboard the vessel. He stays there for a bit, watching as the ship leaves towards the zenit of the star-filled night sky. -In the background the explosions of a firefight can be seen.. probably some Gallic scouts have penetrated the border. The young man turns around, determined to head to the recruitment office of the Bretonian Armed Forces."
"A tall, athletic boy enters the recruiting office.
-Excuse me sirs, I am willing to join the Armed Forces, to whom shall I speak? - the boy asks
-Right over here boy, -the aide responds- come on, I'll be ending my shift soon, so hurry up! Your name please!
-Tim Garland.
-Age?
-19.
"The aide takes a quick glance on the figure of the boy and says": -Laddy, aren't you a bit too young for this?
-Sir, with all due respect, I was scheduled for evac to Cambridge a few hours ago with my family. I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing by fleeing. That's not how I want to live! I want to fight for my house's freedom! For the Queen!
-Hmmm.. Well, let's see here... I see you've had some previous flight experience. How's your handling with a spaceship?
-I have worked with my father.. Trading mostly, but I did fly light ships too. I can handle piloting, sir!
-Well, your paper's are fine.. Are you sure your up for it?
-Mighty sure I am, sir!
-Fine, let me check with my superiors, have a seat there, please.
"The boy sits. He feels good. He knows he's made the right choice. As he thinks about his family, his sisters, his mother, and then his father, he drops a few tears, but doesn't cry, knowing that one day his father will respect his choice, when he'll be considered as a hero who fought for his country, and for the Queen."
A burly, middle-aged man looks at the ranshackle office that is the recruitment centre for Bulwark Flyway. It was formerly an office of some small mining concern,before being appropriated by the Military. Over the door was pasted, in hastily written font, Bretonian Armed Forces, Apply Today!.
He looks at the door for an irresolute moment or two, then finally he walks in. The office is filled with the musty odor of a place that hasn't been cleaned in a while. The smell of cigarettes, sweat and alcohol pervade the air. Henry Cotton smiles a little. The smells of a war-torn country never change. He locates a free officer, and walks up.
The officer looks up. Well? He asks.
Henry replies in a measured tone. I'd like to join the armed forces.
You look too old to fly a ship.
Try me.
If you can't manage, you'll die really quickly.
You need soldiers, don't you? Doesn't matter where they come from, or how long they last. Don't worry, I can last a while.
We'll see. Let's fill out this form here then. Name? Age?
Henry Cotton. Fourty-five.
Fields of experience?Education?Training?
No higher education. Enlisted for the BPA at the age of twenty, joined the space-enforcement unit at twenty-five. Awarded with the Exemplary Discipline Medal. Took multiple wounds at the age of twenty-eight, invalidating me from further duties for a while. Took up teaching physical training at the age of twenty-nine at the University of Burton Springs. Served there for twelve years, joined a munitions factory at the onset of the war with Kusari. Munitions Factory was bombed two months ago.
Reasons for joining the force
I've served the crown before. Can do it again. I am physically fit, despite the age. I have prior experience with fighters. I am without a job, and without a place to live. House was hit by a debris
off some destroyed fighter a week ago. Better to do something than slouch around.
Alright. That'll be all. We'll get back to you soon. Contact details?
That was fast. Here's my neural net number, I'll check in using a public outlet.
Cotton walks away, slowly, and the recruitment officer would have something to gossip about that cranky old man who thinks he can fly a plane.
My name is Kevin Regan and recently something opened my eyes. The situation in which our Kingdom is now isn't the best, in my opinion. The public needs victories and offensive. I realised that while discussing with my uncle, David Merton. He's the captain of HMS Daring and he encouraged me to enlist. First I was thinking not to do it and maybe move to Rheinland but then I started to remember about reports of our pilots that gave their lives in suicidal battles where odds were totally against them, and for what? For us, civilians to have a good life. It's time to return the favor. I want to fight shoulder by shoulder with our brave pilots; I want to become one of them and I want to expand our Kingdom!
Right now, I'm on my way to Cambridge from Planet Baden Baden and I'm sending this transmission because I can't wait to get home and then to the recruitment center. I left in a hurry when I saw this news on BBC about another attack of the Kusarians in Leeds. It was the straw that broke the camel.
About my skills, I can't say much. I did not finish a military academy, nor did I take combat lessons so, I think I'm a rookie when it comes to dog fighting. I am, however, used to space flight and with controls of a light interceptor. I used to travel in an Arrow.
I attached a file with important information about me.
[font=lucida console][color=#FF6666]Name: Regan, Kevin Nationality: Breonian Date of Birth: March 30, 793 Place of Birth: Planet New London Residence: Planet Cambridge Marital status: Married
Also, about my family's history, we are originating from Liberty. Two generations ago, the Regans came to Bretonia and started a new. Now we consider ourselves Bretonians.
The Mertons, that's the family of my mother. I think you already know them as proud bretonians because most of them are members of Bretonian Authorities like BPA, BAF or troops of infantry and ground vehicles.
That's all I can think of for now. Ask for details if you'd like to know more.
I'm requesting to rejoin the ranks of the Armed Forces. I have my own reasons for rejoining the ranks, you can assume it's because I want to continue my valued service in the eyes of the people. However, I'm not going to settle for a low rank. I request that I be reinstated as my former rank of Commander. You can put me in whatever fleet you need, you can give me the crappiest ship. The only thing I request is my former rank amongst my uniform.
Now, I know the Armed Forces is in need of able bodied men, and with my past combat experience, it's something that needs to be seen on the front lines again. If we can't see eye-to-eye on my request, Sir Ralston, you can be assured that my application will be withdrawn.
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