The Recruitment Centre in Cambridge was rather empty compared to the usual.
It was a quiet cloudy day and it was crawling its way to a calm ending,a nice
tranquil evening.
Just as a few drops of rain touched the ground a man entered the facility.His footsteps echoing in the large entrance,he moved to the large mahogany front desk.Behind the desk,on the wall under the BAF insignia,there it was,those 8 words every Bretonian man cherished:"The highest of distinctions is service to others"
As the man whispered this sentence to himself studying the writing,the attendant cleared her throat for a third time and said "Sir,how may I help you?" a fourth.The day was about to end and Annette had very little patience left for people with personal issues seeking the answer here.Whether it was for vangeance, to prove oneself,to get over a loss.She couldn't care less.They were the worst.
Luckily this one came to after the fourth time she asked,she's seen worse.
"Sorry birdie,feelin' a bit jaded 'twas a long haul" he responded with a big heartfelt smile.He seemed like an average fellow really.A bit tall,a ginger beard around his chin with black hair,(She wondered to herself if it was dye or not) and he had this weird,funny accent.(Who says birdie to people?) Otherwise he seemed normal likeable even."Definately" Annette told to herself "Definately,with that smile".As the assistant snapped out of her milisecond thoughts and analysis about this man, as he asked for the nearest available recruitment officer.
She told him to follow and scurried towards a waiting room leading him to a door.
"Thanks birdie" said the man with the same smile.
She nodded and smiled back leaving him facing the door.
He knocked it receiving an instant,confident response of "Come in!"
He entered and saw an middle-aged militaryman with a stern face and a shaved head working through papers.A man who clearly saw some action.He noticed the nanomechanic implant's faint buzzing while reforming different hand gestures while the veteran was going through the papers.
The veteran looked at the man studied him for a while narrowed his eyes a bit and asked " You're Irish aren't you?" skeptically.
The man smiled again calmly relieving some of the tension created by that blunt question and anwered:
"Aye" and kept smiling and said " And I wish to enlist."
Sergeant sighed shook his head and pulled out a form:"Name?" he demanded.
"Anderson O'Mulligan" the man answered firmly.As the sergeant scribbled his name,Anderson was hopeful about this interview, he wanted to be a part of something greater and this was it. He felt pure joy in that moment.He was going to serve others.He was going to distinguish himself.
And that was clearly readable from Anderson's face and his iconic big smile.Sergeant gave out a long sigh again,took off his glasses and shook his head.
"Look,to be perfectly candid,you seem like a fine lad,It seems that you are here because whatever reasons you may have but you are here because they are yours.But you being Irish will be on your way.You will meet a lot of guys that are hurt by the Molly's even some good men will be a little skeptical about ye.It does not matter how much you tell them othervise.It may not even be enough to show that.I am not telling you not to do this but I think you should think twice before we go on I think you should ask yourself that if you could endure this.This comes from experience "
Right then Anderson noticed the remains of an Irish accent worn out with years of formal tone.The man clearly suffered what could be defined as heavy prejudice every day of his service.
Anderson pondered a while trying to get a better grasp of the situation.He shook his head and his smile narrowed a little.
"I dont mind bein' slagged and I knew how 'twas I even expected to be branded a blackguard right 'ere.I wont back down. I will in me ring!"
Sergeant gave him a faint smile.Admiring his enthusiasm he replied:
"Fair play lad. Quick then fill out these before it starts bucketing down!"
Anderson smiled at the radical change of tone and took the papers.Sergeant looked him in the eye still smirking:
"Work on that accent, a formal tone is encourged...eh boyo?"
Anderson nodded still smiling and filled the rest of the form.
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Name : Anderson O'Mulligan
Age:25
Height:1,88Meters
Weight:95 Kilograms
Place of Birth:Leeds
Flight Skills:
Ships Flown
Freighters and rather bulky ships. (Camaras,Pelicans had my fair share of trading after dropping out of med school)
Bombers(Flown a Roc for 2 years as a part of a group escorting large convoys through edge worlds)
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Anderson gave the form back to Sergeant,smirking and said
"Thank you sir! " in a soldierly manner.
Sergeant gave out a loud sigh filing the form,he got up his chair looked at Anderson and said
"Well then if that's all;get out of me office you bowsie It is already lashin' out of the heavens and I am late for me afternoon pint."
"That was a lit'le stereotypical,sir"Anderson chuckled "Mind if join?"
Sergeant made a approving head gesture took his coat and led Anderson out of the office.
As they walked past the front desk desk Annette gasped a little.For the 5 long years she spent behind that desk she never saw Sgt.Durnin laughing and joking around with someone let alone a chuckle.He was a stern,proffessional,revered, veteran.She liked him but like most of the personnel in the building she was a little afraid of him too.But there he was horsing around with that young man.
There was something cheerful about that man.Something people needed these days.Joy.
