Bretonian Armed Forces Defense Intelligence Staff (DIS) (iRP) (AO)

[Dieter Schprokets]

"Wing will March Past in Column of Root, Move to the Right in Column of Route, Right... Turn!"

"By the Left, Quick, March!"

The Warrant Officer's voice somehow carried over the roar of the engines of the Templars flying in formation overhead.

The parade ground was filled with Bretonian Pilots and Aircrew. The Wing was on parade for good reason. Promotions.

The review took some time. The BAF Marchpast blared from loudspeakers, not particularily doing the song justice, and Fleet Admiral Nelles stood at the dias, frozen in salute. Squadron after Squadron, Flight after Flight. He was sober. Good thing; it was hot out.

The marchpast complete, the Warrant Officer saluted, then retired to his position. Nelles began.

"Today we honour our men and women of the Bretonian Armed Forces, who have acquired skills and talent to match their bravery and devotion."

"Promoted to the rank of Lieutenant:"

"John Rico, Christian Hart, Kicon Kijin, Basil Liddel Hart, Jack Frost, and Aileen Fowl"

The new Lieutenants came to the dias, one by one, and received their rank insignia. Some marched awkwardly. In war, parade drill was sacrificed to instead provide flying skills.

"Promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander:"

"George Harrington, and Neville Hughes"

Cheers now. These men were popular leaders. They received their ranks, and returned to their Squadrons.

"Promoted to the rank of Commander: John Redmond."

More Cheers. The pilots were especially happy with that.

"And Promoted to the rank of Captain: Stanley Nelson, and Aubrey Mainwaring."

Now the pilots were all cheering and whistling. Not very orderly, but the Fleet Admiral had no intention of stopping it. Nelson and Mainwaring marched crisply to the podium. They had been in the Armed Forces for some time, going back when they bothered to teach pilots how to march. They received their rank insignia, and returned to their commands.

"Now, for other awards, of great significance, to those who have served Bretonia beyond the normal call of duty."

"Firstly, a young lady, whose name now strikes terror in the hearts of the Kusari, Gaians, Corsairs, and the Mollies. Bretonia, ladies and gentlemen, has a first-class female ace."

The Fleet Admiral paused.

"The Distinguished Flying Cross is hereby awarded to Lieutenant Evyn Hunter."

A shocked looking Evyn Hunter came to the Dias and received her medal. It was rarely given, but then, rare talent needed recognition.

Nelles noted that the young pilot seemed unwell, and appeared to feel.. guilty. Common really. Those so awarded often feel that way, since so many die. It must be that.

The Fleet Admiral continued.

"Bravery is not always found on a battlefield."

The parade ground was silent.

"For valour behind enemy lines, resulting in his capture by the enemy, and subsequent detention and torture in a Kusari Prison Camp, and then receiving a sentence of death for trumped up war crimes...", Nelles paused to gain his breath.

"and ultimately, for his bravery, skill and wit in facilitating the rescue of himself and his fellow prisoners, Lord Commander Sir Roger Brinkley is awarded the Carina Cross."

A surprised and uncomfortable looking Sir Roger came to the dias, saluted stiffly, and politely took his medal. The pilots cheered greatly. The eccentric blue blood was quite popular.

Sir Roger's award was the last presentation.

During the final Marchpast, the parade members were treated to a special experience. The Templar's flew past again, then left for the horizon, and it grew quiet, for a short time.

Then an awesome sound began to grow. Like dozens of freight trains, being lifted into the air by as many tornadoes, while a hurricane passes by. It grew into intensity until it was unbearable. The units that had made it off the parade square and had been dismissed looked up into the sky in awe. A huge shadow swept over the side of the square. Wind was swept up, and it became hard for the units still in formation to keep their order.

The Pendragon passed overhead like a flying mountain, belching flame from her thrusters and thoroughly impressing all present. The media ate it up, and got excellant footage. A Dunkirk less than 200 feet above you has a way of making an impression.

Then her forward guns opened into the sky with a deafening roar. A salute of biblical proportions.

Fleet Admiral Percy Nelles smiled to himself. THAT surprise had been his idea.

---