BHG| recruitment

[Exiledcors]

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--CommID: Jackson Flint--
-Ship Details: Manta

*A man whose soft features are masked by his unkempt hair and scraggly beard appears on-screen*

Well, if you must know my backstory...

Growing up in Baltimore was hard, not because I was an orphan, or some poor kid forced to lie about his age to work in the shipyards for money; no it was quite the opposite for me. Both of my parents were mid level Deep Space Engineering employees, not quite executive, but a few steps above peon. My parents made just enough money for me to have just enough free time to get into fights after school.

A street fight, if you can really call it that in the corridors of a station, is a funny thing. All of that build up, the adrenaline rush (and subsequent dump), the lead up to that one moment...That one moment where that punk from the industrial section lays into your jaw with a left hook and your face slams into an unfinished bulkhead on a transport. It was in that moment, with my face bloody and, lets face it, snotty with tears that I changed.

Life had been so surgical up until then. Go to school, study, get a job with DSE...I had been playing out a script that I was only vaguely aware of. Nowhere in my parents plan was there a scene, nay, even a mention of getting my face bloodied and bruised. I had gone off script, I had missed my cue.

I didn't win that fight, it wasn't even close. I limped back to my family's quarters with the aforementioned bloody face, and a few cracked ribs. But the real fight was just beginning, I had to face my parents and tell them why I had missed the most important interview of my life.

Now I don't know how many of you have had families, or actually cared about them, but facing down loved ones who are disappointed in you is one of the hardest things to do. And I couldn't do it, I couldn't bear facing my Mother and Father after I had ruined my life in their eyes, so I ran. I was on the next shuttle out to Manhattan.

A few odd jobs here and there, but the real thrill came when I bought my first ship. It was (is) a piece of junk, but it got me through my first encounter with pirates (barely). On a routine trade run through Bretonia I was ambushed. They asked for, or rather, demanded my money and cargo. Being young(er) and stupid(er) than I am today I refused, and just before my sorry but was about to become slag, a pair of hunters dropped out of the lane behind me.

It was quick, and ruthless. It must have been, because I was almost out of air at that point. They towed me back to Sheffield, told me my ship was scrap and that I was lucky to be alive. Needless to say I stopped trading. A hunter loaned me a ship, and taught me how to dogfight. He became my first real friend since grade school. We took missions together, and he showed me everything he knew. I paid him back eventually, returned the ship and bought my own, but I was addicted to the life. The last time I saw him, I remember he told me " Join the Guild. The insurance is crappy, but the drinks are cheap."

Look at me, I've rambled quite a bit. I guess that's the unfinished University education seeping through. Anyways, I would be honored to join your ranks, and equally as importantly, drink on the cheap.

Signed,

Jackson Flint

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