Subject: Application To: The Volksfront Name: Jason.Oshiro Age: 18 Place of birth:Badlands Background Information: He was born an a libery rogue transport headed for buffalo base and during the journey his mother went into labour. His father had to turn the ship onto auto pilot to help his beloved wife. But with out his supervision the computer did not protect against the badlands so the systems started to malfunction and the medical bay's primary systems shut down leaving Jason alone in and without help. The baby was born in the heart of the badlands they both cried earnestly together for they had a baby boy.
"Lets call him Jason...after you" "Yes lets honey"
then suddenly her breathing increased and a robotic voice from a speaker in the medical bay shouted
***Warning female going into cardiac arrest***
Jason Senior did all he could to save his wife be his efforts were in vain... she passed away just as the transport got within visual range of buffalo.
Jason senior passed away shortly after as his body couldnt cope with the strain. Leaving Jason junior all by himself on buffalo a Jason senior begged a staff member to take care of him with the last words coming out of his mouth "His is Jason.Oshiro raise him as your own p...pp....please".
She took him to her quarters and stayed up all night worring about what to do with the baby that had suddenly been flung into her life without a moments notice
Over the next years she moved from place to place with the young Jason growing up fast but her main worry with the boy was his attitude teachers had called him things like a "Loose cannon","Raging bull" or "Mischevious little bugger" but what infuriated most of his mentors was that he managed to disrupt the class and get into trouble but somehow he always managed to do his work.
As he got older we decided to move away from his foster mother he managed get his hands on a fighter sutible enough for the survival out in the harsh cold galaxy.He became a RM mercenary for a while and after one huge battle outside planet Houston and losing his closest freind in the battle he went to a Rhineland soldier and asked him "why are you fighting?"
He replyed with "because the sarge says there badguys"
Jason was enraged by the stupidity of those people and he knew the only reason they were on the front line getting killed was because of a stupid grudge that had nothing to do with them.He became part of anti war protests and during a very violent protest against the facist war a man came up to him and said
" You wanna fight for real? well then you might wanna look us up"
He gave him a card with Volksfront stamped on it. Jason decided to take him up on his offer and here is where he is now appliing to become part of the Volksfront.
Positve Personality Traits:-Good mannered when needed
-An Excellent light fighter pilot
-Talkative and Humorus Negative Personality Traits:-Can be mischievous
-Gets into trouble
Incomming Transmission
Sender Identification:
Jason "Strife" Oshiro 2nd
Yo I heard you stand for the things i belive in and well after much thought (and that doesnt come easy with me) i want in but of course the final descision is up to you guys any way so im not gonna go up kiss ass alley in any way so dont worry.I have seen first hand what you do against the facist government of rhineland. Oh and if your wondering where im from my mother was a Kusarian blood dragon and my dad was either libertonian or bretonian my foster mother was never sure.
I have no wish to harm the citizens of rhineland but to help them through the oppression of the goverment and to fight with and for them.The war Rhineland waging against liberty is just a drain of resources that could be spent bettering every ones lives its just and ethical war for no apparent reason I bet even the offiers ang sargents dont know what their fighting about. I will serve the cause to the best of my abilities and I promise I will never let you down if you would offer me the chance.
[color=#FFFFFF]OORP part of app: Ever been sactioned?: Yes when i first started the game...Everyone was a noob once Skype: you know it already
Greetings leadership of the Volksfront. My name is Jason Trayne and I interested in joining you. I'm not sure if you've ever heard of me but I was one of "King" Rorry's Renegades. I left them to join your cause for a better Rheinland while Rorry and his Renegades are ruining Rheinland. I hope you will accept me within your ranks
despite the trouble I might've caused. I'm also transmitting some data about myself. Jason out.
[font=Agency FB]Not the best best application that has ever crossed my desk, but something tells me you will be a great asset to the Volksfront.
Welcome, Genosse Trayne.
A sight so common that even the Bruschal Traffic Controller didn't bother commenting, the rusty old humpback touched down in the crowded cargo bay. It was a far cry from the pristine docks of the Rheinland military's battleships, or the maximal efficiency layouts of Daumann or Kruger. It was a smorgasbord of ships, people and supplies that paralleled the organization that stood behind them. The Bundschuh had made great strides over the years, but their supporters tended to come from the lower classes, and supplying the men and women who fought for their country and their people was a constant challenge.
The ship was late, and as the busy men and women of the Bundschuh swarmed around the ship, unloading much needed supplies, a ragged shape in a cloak slipped out of the craft. Tripping on the last step, it seemed about to fall, before a cane, as ragged as its owner, stuck out. Wavering, the cloaked head glanced around quickly to see if this quick moment was noticed, but the movements of a frail passenger aroused no interest. Steadier now, but with the cane tapping against the rusting metal floor, the cloaked figure headed towards the bay's exit.
'¦
Passing through the hallways, the figure traced a route that he'd followed long ago. As with the cargo bay, the hallways of the old base were full of people. Pilots, worked to the bone from countless double shifts rubbed elbows with even more overworked mechanics and technicians, while a few university students, new to the revolutionary life, kept their heads high, their ideals not yet adjusted to the harsh realities the Volksfront faced.
Turning off of a busy thoroughfare, the man in the cloak found himself alone in a dusty hallway. It was a quiet place, with candles and flowers placed along the walls, memorials to the fallen workers of the revolution. Hundreds of photos dotted the walls, pictures of the young and old alike. Looking over them, the man could only sigh. Too many, he murmured.
The recruitment office on Bruschal is a barren place. There are few whom the Bundschuh would admit into their hallowed hallways without being already inducted into the revolution. It was a place for formalities and form-filling. At the hour the man arrived, it was empty, everyone else sleeping, or helping to distribute supplies from the same transport he had just arrived on.
Opening the door slowly ' a socialist revolution has no need for locks! ' the man entered the office, gazing around. Heading to the records file cabinet, he eased the drawer open and began to thumb through the folders.
'¦
Another dark shape, this one cutting a lean, muscular figure entered the threshold of the Recruitment office. He too, knew that the recruitment office was a barren zone in the busy station, but a light on had attracted his attention. Spotting an intruder, seated with his back to the door reading, this new assailant crept up slowly.
Maintenance of the living and working spaces has always been an issue on Bruschal. When the logistics officers and their tireless assistants compile the lists of tasks, it is always the maintenance of the base's defences and strained environmental systems that come first. So when our sneaking assailant stepped on the last floor panel, about to grab a hold of the reading intruder, the screech emitted was almost inevitable. What was probably more surprising to the assailant was the response this drew from his target.
The chair was pushed back immediately, right into the legs of the assailant, tipping him off balance as he lunged towards his now-very-alert prey. Another surprise, however, was delivered in the form of a cane across his nose, yielding a large crack, and pushing him on his back, causing him to lose sight of his target.
Unfortunately, for the target, his cane had been rather more essential to his locomotion than he might have preferred, and he too fell on his back. Pushing himself up into a seated position against the file cabinet, he reached for his cane, only to be interrupted by the click of an antiquated, but fully operational pistol.
'Who are you!' demanded the assailant, now more visible as a member of the Bundschuh base security force. Panting, he stood in the classic firing position ' legs spread, both arms out grabbing the weapon. The only thing preventing this image of the dutiful revolutionary from gracing the cover of the next pamphlet was the off kilter look of his nose and the stream of blood leaking from it.
Shifting with a groan that was met by another jab of the pistol in his direction, the intruder sat up further, and pulled back the hood of his cloak. The face was old, aged in the premature manner that is a hallmark of being a lifelong revolutionary. It looked upward, the face creasing in a wry smile as the intruder's hand slid the folder he'd been reading across the floor.
'Why don't you find out,' the intruder said, in a tone that betrayed how tired the brief encounter had left him but that still retained a certain dignity.
The assailant leant down slowly, keeping his pistol pointed the whole time. Flipping the cover open with a clean motion, he stood back up and read the first line out loud, slowly, 'Leutnant Josef Marks, went missing 815A.S. after combat action in the Neu Berlin System (see report 1546t), presumed K.I.A.'
'That's me,' said Marks, in the same tone that bored Neu Berlin public servants use to pick up their drycleaning. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to make,' he said, again reaching for his cane.
Stamping on the cane, the security officer remained defiant. 'And where would you have an appointment Herr Marks, if you are who you claim to be?'
'Why comrade,' said Marks in a patronising tone, the aged face unable to contain the amusement this encounter was clearly giving him, 'You all seem to think I'm dead. I need to enlist!'
"... And so you decide to make a reappearance by sneaking in like a burglar?"
The voice was coming from a 22-year old woman with her hair dyed dark blue. She stood in the door opening loosely wearing a Volksfront uniform.
"It doesn't seem very logical to me. In fact, some old man who according to those files there should've been dead years ago walking around here is a bit strange in general."
"Vierlande has the tendency to make one ..... rather paranoid," Marks said as he pulled himself up, leaning heavily on his cane. "The conditions of my capture were quite ideal for the RFP - they knew exactly where I was, when I would be alone, I didn't know who I could trust." The anger in Marks' voice was obvious now, the tone hinting of a sentiment long smoldering. "But," he said, "Once a revolutionary, always a revolutionary, and the movement needs people, now as always. I consider it nothing less than my duty to return, although I admit, there weren't a lot of other places for me to go."
"I recognize the difficulties that you have trusting me, and I know that the same distrust will dog me for some time from all people in the movement. I only hope that I can prove myself to my comrades as we must prove ourselves to the people - with actions, not words."
"So you've heard my story, what, might I ask, is yours?"
"My story? I don't have a lot of stories, Genosse. My parents have always secretly supported the Bundschuh. I decided to do it without the secrecy."
She sighs.
"And when I joined the Volksfront was in bad shape. Still is in fact. So Daniel Boehmer, the Vorstand at that time stepped down and and I became it. Way too fast, but there were little alternatives I guess."
"So Fraulein, where do we go from here?" Marks enquired, engaging the woman with a hard look. "Will you allow me to once again fight for the rights, the people, the movement that I believe in. You seem to be in need of some grizzled veterans," Marks said, grinning a lopsided smile as he tapped his cane on the floor.
"We need all the men we can get. And according to your files you were a valuable member. Don't be to eager though."
She paused and she gave a strict look at him.
"Things have changed since you last were here. Even your old rank doesn't exist anymore. So make sure you familiarize yourself with the new Volksfront. Also make sure that you speak with Kommandant Wolf, he'll probably be in the night club of that bastard called Jason Oshiro."
She sighed.
"I know it is a terrible place, but he lucky also got a VIP room where you don't hear anything of the terrible music and don't have to deal with all the flashy lights and stuff."
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