A tall, brown-haired, somewhat haggard young man shuffled awkwardly down the Recruitment Centre's main hallway and turned right, making for the BAF recruitment office. Rubbing the brown stubble he'd inadvertently forgotten to shave that morning - he'd been fairly apprehensive about his upcoming interview, most untypically - he sighed, relaxed, and attempted to let his tension ebb away. It's not every day you sign up to the Armed Forces.
Suddenly smiling, the young man rubbed the fatigue from his eyes and stepped briskly into the office proper. Stepping before the local recruitment officer's desk, he stooped somewhat, shook the officer's hand, and, grinning almost apologetically, launched into his tale.
"Morning, sir. My name's Orwell - John Orwell - and I've come to apply to the Armed Forces. I'd like to be deployed in a fighter, - throw me into the thick of it.
Why, you ask, sah? I'll do my best to keep it brief.
I'm... not a soldier, sir, nor am I a professional pilot. You may have heard of me before - I'm actually a reporter, planetside, on New London. Work for the New Sunday Telegraph. Had the occasional piece on the Bretonian Colony News Service. Been granted indefinite leave for the moment - I'm afraid I've become far too restless. Battle beckons to me, sir; I'm afraid I'm an incorrigible patriot. I'll be (entirely) honest; I suppose enlisting's a form of escapism, as well. I certainly wouldn't mind getting away from... well... routine and dreary tedium, as stereotypical as that sounds; expect you hear that all too often, sah.
I've undergone requisite arms and piloting training, sir. I wasn't recruited, I volunteered - to be perfectly frank, I've longed before to be a part of the Armed Forces and the war effort as a whole. My civilian resistance training was undertaken in the Cambridge system; I was taught by Sergeant O'Keefe of the 484th Reserves. Here are my papers - I doubt you'll find my marks lacking.
I understand perfectly well I'm an idealist, sir. I don't care; I look forward to my share of warfare. Even the experience alone would suffice. Will the BAF have me?"
Orwell straightened his tie and looked expectantly at the recruitment officer.
