Recruitment office of the Brotherhood ([TBH])

[Senor Gomez]

*Another hot day on Crete, 40 degrees outside, 50 inside Minotauro Gomez's garage. Miguel Gomez was working on the broken engine of his fathers raba. Angry, sweaty, covered in what remained of burnt H-fuel and having second thoughts about working for his father, Miguel decides to take a brake. Just down the street was the brotherhoods recruitment office.*

Two years working for that old egghead. What do I get in return? That old cabron still calls me a "bastardo"..... cohunes on him.

*Holding a broken cigarette with his dirty hand he looks down the street. The brotherhoods flag can be seen sticking outside of the building.*

I wonder if those soldatos get to suck on black clouds of H-fuel every day. I rather bread open space after getting shot down in battle then this.

*He throws the cigarette and spits out a few pieces of tobacco as he starts walking down the street, towards the recruitment office.*

The old dog said he knew some of the brotherhood members. That might come in handy with my application. He ain't as useless as I though.

*As he passes by a window he takes a look at his reflection.*

Where am I going dressed like this? They are more likely to shoot me then to throw me out alive if they see me like this. Ah well, it would be a better death then dying of lungs cancer. They probably don't even monitor the room.

*He takes a deep breath an walks inside the office, relieved to see it empty like he imagined it would be.*

Full Name: Miguel Gomez

Age: 20

Your skills: Although I never destroyed an enemy ship all by myself, I did my share in defence of Crete on two occasions in my fathers titan.

Reason why you chose us: Being the oldest and the strongest Corsair group I would be most honored to be a part of it.

Your biography: I was born on Crete during the nomad war. My father's name is Minotauro Gomez. I never actually knew my mother. My father told me she ran away when I was one year old but I never believed that story. A few years after passing the graves test I started working for my father on board his raba. We mostly shipped artifacts to New Tokyo and food as well as occasional side arms on our way back. Although the profits, well, the little I got from them, weren't bad, I never liked working on that precious pile of scrap of his. I always wanted to fly my titan outside the borders of the empire, fight for my home against the Bretonian cockroaches, living up to my older brother Raul who might be dead for all I know.

*He sits back on the chair with a smirk on his face as he finishes his application.*

That was easier then I thought. Wonder what is next, I get to piss in a can?..... AI CARUMBA! They ain't gonna check my urine now, will they?..... I am screwed.

---