Bretonian Armed Forces Recruitment Centre (iRP)

[beunt]

"Woaw great ! This is it ! At last, this is it !" were the first words Martin Bridge said this morning, except for the silent pray he whispered while looking for this very special mail. He kept gazing at the holoscreen, reading again the following :

Admission test, undergraduated level.

Applicant #146256C, Bridge, Martin.

Laws of Bretonia....................................... C
Basic foreign politics.................................. D
Contraband, limited contraband................. B-
Licensing and fees.................................... C
BPA joint operation procedures................... B
Civilian safety procedures.......................... B+
ZOI, patrol procedures.............................. D+
Basic flight .............................................. B
Basic fight..... .......................................... C
Basic tactics ............................................ C-

Overall.................................................... C

The applicant passed the undergraduated level admission test with the distinction (none) and is allowed to reach the Ensign rank in the regular Bretonia Armed Forces within the current year.

Instr. Barnaby.

"- Wooohooo ! Now it's done !" were his next words as he raised his hands in a victorious stance, hitting the ceiling of his bunk-bed.
"- Damnit Bridge stop punching me and let me sleep will you ?" grumbled his roomate, "I'm off today."
"- And you Rodney, stop calling me Bridge. Now it's Ensign Bridge !" replied Martin, putting the now printed sheet right on the face of his mate and old friend. Rodney repelled him with a lazy arm.
"- I know, I'm not deaf. And the whole station will know too if you keep shouting like that."
"- I'm in, I'm in, I'm in..." repeated relentlessly the cocky Martin, pinching and pesting his mate again and again.
"- Will you just shut up at last ?"
"- What, you aren't happy for me ?"
"- Of course I am". Rodney finally gave up and sat. "But you're so childish sometimes."
"- Hey, I'm not a child anymore."
"- You're not yet an ensign either, until you recieve your accreditation from the New London HQ. Hey, that's an idea. What about if you rushed there, and in the meantime I kept sleeping ?"
"- I'm sorry man. It's just... my fourth attempt. And I made it this time."
Rodney yawned and falled back in his bed.
"- It's OK, Martin. Now get up and take your breakfast, and please leave me alone."
"- On my way, trainee."
"- Oh f.."

Martin hastly shut the door to shield him from an incoming boot, then headed to his case. This time, he was not flying for another training, to another laws-and-stuffs course, nor his hundredth patrol in Omega 3. Now he was about to fly to the New London application center to get his uniform and was wondering about which medals would be best pinned on it. To hell the breakfast, he could not wait for it.

On the way he saluted two lieutenants and one senior instructor, quarelled with a tech, queued in the usual traffic jam at the Manchester/New London gate, got bored and took a jump hole instead, went hungry and flown to a snackshack, dirsupted a lone corsair raider chased by a BPA counstable while eating the said snack, and of course called his mother about the great news. Ms Bridge showed mixed feelings during the four minutes long communication, happyness of course, but she also tried to change his mind once again. As usual they went on conflict at some point and Martin just shut off the channel. Ms Bridge was left to her anxiety, but soon hooked on the satisfaction that her son eventually succeeded in something. Neither Martin nor her know that his success is of course due to his training, but also to the weariness of instructor Barnaby and the lack for room for newer trainees. But it would be nasty to tell them about this, isn't it ?


Eventually Martin landed, and a few airway stations later presented himself to BAF affectation center. The old man waiting at the desk could not believe it when he rose his eyes upon him.

"- You. Again ?"
"- Martin Bridge, ready for acti.. - I mean duty Sir." said Martin, exhibiting with utmost seriousness the formulary from the Salisbury bootcamp.
"- Well, let's see..." The man adjusted his glasses and closely looked at the neural net database. " It seems this is good so far. Congratulation, young man. Let me update your files."

The old man opened the registration form Martin filled the first time he went, and started to read it loud.

Name: Bridge, Martin
Date of birth: 800 A.S.
Place of birth: Leeds
Nationality: Bretonian
Family Background : Father : former BMM miner deceased in a gaz pocket explosion in the Tau's, mother : civil servant at Leeds, sister : secretary at Cambridge Cryer Pharmaceutical.
Records : one day in custody for assisting felon bookmakers, piracy hoax that led a DSE hauler to drop valuable crates, illegal vigilante. Not jailed due to his age (13 and 15 by the time), swore on honnor to behave as a lawfull citizen since, see act. #4557 jul 815, judge Cullings.

Fitness: High
Height: 6.0"
Vision: 20/20
Injuries/Illness: none

Previous occupation(s) : errand boy for Cryer Pharmaceutical, errand boy for the Sirius News Network.

Combat experience: involved in dogfights between trader escorts and corsairs.

<strike>Note : additional formation in Salisbury required</strike>

Describe briefly why you wish to serve in the Armed Forces: to protect Bretonia's citizens, kick Kusarian out of here and because I have few other places to go.

List 5 aspects of your character that you believe make you suitable for this job:
perseverant
voluntary
fighting spirit
sense of hierarchy
self control

This said, the old man rose up his eyes again and asked :

"- Do you confirm all of these affirmations to be true ?"
"- Yes sir, this is all truth."
"- Fine then. I'll submit the update to an officer from the staff office and tell you as soon as a decision is issued."
"- Wait, I reached the Ensign grade. I worked hard for this and this paper proves it. Come on, why don't you tell me where I can fetch my uniform ?"

The man stared at Martin with gravity.

"- Listen to me, young man. This proves you can be a rightfull member of the BAF, not that you will. I have a chief, who himself do have a chief, who himself do have a chief and so on. I don't want the chain command to get mad at me because of you. You are about to join the BAF. BAF is not a paintball team. Understand ?"
"- Loud and clear, Sir. I'm waiting for you reply."

Martin left the desk and walked toward the large exit door. But instead of walk through it, he deviated to a bench, sat, and waited.

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