New Hope Recruitment Office, Coronado System

[Emeric Leon]

Planet Pecos, New Hope Recruitment Office, 819 AS.

It had been a quiet morning for this recruitment office. In fact, before now, there had not been a single applicant, and we the audience are pretty sure we saw one of the Mover freight drivers playing Galaga on a mobile device (just to pass the time, you understand). Suddenly the door is thrown wide open and a jaunty young man wearing a suit practically bounds inside, stops for a moment, and then makes a beeline for the military recruitment desk. Utilizing a straight-backed stiff walk that can only be described as ridiculous, he draws himself up and, with a big grin, says:

"Je voudrais rejoindre votre base pilote, s'il vous plaît!"

A split second passes, and he covers his mouth with both hands."Eheheh...excusez-moi!" He takes a moment to clear his throat. "Ahem...my name is Emeric Leon, and I am here to sign up for your fighter squadron!" A bemused looking recruitment officer hands him the form. Still barely in control of his delight, he takes the pad to a nearby seat and begins scribbling on it as fast as he can.

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Name: Emeric U. Leon
Age: 19
Birthplace: Planet Quillan, Languedoc
Biography: Born a son of miners in what for a Border World colony would be considered a long line of miners, I grew up under the boot-heel of the Royalists much like any other Gallic underclass citizen. After the Council took from and then lost Quillan to the Crown, the citizens there were oppressed far worse than any thing we'd seen previously. Public executions, a hanging or two, raids...all of these things were a part of daily life for us. So, when chance came, my family packed what we could and used our Aurochs freighter to get us to Vichy Base. The Council, before they cleared out, had left coordinates and system locations for this base, since the Royals couldn't reach it and it was to be a staging point for any trying to escape Gallic space. We boarded a pirate transport there and were among a few thousand people who successfully made it to Planet Toulouse, and into a refugee camp. Life in those camps is hard, almost as hard as Quillan was but in a different way. I wanted out, but had no interest in joining the Council. So, instead, I secured passage...okay, stowed away, on a shuttle bound for Barrier Gate, then took the Colonial shuttle out here, to New Hope.
Relevant Experience: I was hoping you could provide the combat action part, but like most people in this age I know my way around a cockpit, and the gun systems.
Your reasons for applying to the Military: See above. I wish to punish the Royals for what they've done to us, and don't want to do it in an arms production facility on Toulouse somewhere.

// OORP:

1) How long have you been on Discovery? Since mid-2011.

2) What characters and ships have you had thus far? Quite a few - official LPI, BHG, miner, Outcast, Red Hessian, Council. Other various and sundry transports. I've almost always been a cruiser driver and now am looking to improve fighter skills.

3) How often do you normally play/come online for? I work a lot in the evenings, but am generally on afterwards till the early morning, EST. Usually this is anywhere from 9-11 PM till I fall asleep.

4) What is your Skype username? Desmond.t.1022

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Punctuating the final period on the page with a sharp tap of the pen, Emeric practically leaps out of his chair, straightens his suit imperiously, and strides over to the desk with the completed form.

"I believe you will find everything is cent pour cent in order," he exclaims.

The recruitment officer gives his application a once over, sets it aside, and waves him out of the building, eager to be rid of this happy Frenchman and to go back to his quiet day. Meanwhile, trembling with glee, Emeric had already strode out of the office to await a reply and hopefully orders back in a lodging in the New Hope colony proper.

As soon as the door was completely shut against the cold, the recruitment officer sighs, permits himself a small "Ay carumba..." and goes back to being bored, at least until the next recruit comes in.