Billy Bob, the not so modern pro-Liberty supporter on planet Houston had just returned to his small shed in the country side of the planet. His aged CTE 1270AV Startracker with metal horns on the front was gathering sand next to the shed. He always promised himself to fix the old thing, but never really got the time. But enough with the unimportant side story of his life. He walked to what was supposed to be the living room, yelled "Woman, I'm home!" and sat down on the sofa. It was time for him to watch something "entertaining", but suddenly the naval recruitment commercial kicked in, right in the middle of his show. A slight frown appeared on his face, but then those posters quickly calmed him down. "Perhaps if I was a bit younger?" he thought to himself. And then, suddenly that virus ruined the moment, showing that fur covered humanoid in the beach suit. At first Billy Bob was shocked, it was something he had never seen and, mind you, he once was a poacher on Gaia, before Orbital Spa and Cruise caught him and send him back to Houston. He leaned back and chuckled to himself. His wife, walked in at that moment and looked at him, "How was your day, dear?". The man quickly turned off the holoprojector-thingy and smiled at her. "Bring my laser shotgun, honey, because I'll be giving you a new fur mat!" And with that, his old passion for pouching was once again reborn...
Frantic Voice: Moneyshot, get your *censored* in your flight suit and out of the hangar. DSE/Con1 is taking heavy damage and your wing has..
The voice cut off violently as the entire ship shuddered. The bulkhead opposite Manderly's bunk ripped away leaving only the transparent energy shield to protect him from the elements. A body hurtled towards him, Valeria Whitmore. He spent the night before last with her and he can still see her face taught with passion. Now it leered at him, stretched from explosive decompression...
Manderly Barrenson, callsign Moneyshot, jerked awake in his kingfisher cockpit and cracked his helmet on a commconsole. With a beep the holorecorder clicked on and a navy recruitment add burned itself onto his dilated retinas. Nearly naked admirals danced on his cornea as his heart slowed to a normal beat.
"Yeah, right," he muttered to himself, "I did enough tours to know the only tail you get is from your mates and then you get to watch them blown to bloody bits you scrape off your cockpit. Some poor sod will fall for it though. Poor *censored*."
Christina had been in a bad mood since the newest scheme by the recruitment department had surfaced. Her image was fragile enough due to the obviously baseless rumours constantly circulating about her; a strong reputation was required to keep the High Command cohesive, she reassured herself. Doubtless those marketeering snakes had already anticipated her anger and erased all trace of which individuals were responsible. The last thing anyone needed, especially if they wanted to protect their health, was objectifying her.
On the other hand, an apparently humanoid creature had come in, displayed it's own shockingly low level of self-esteem for everyone to see, and had stolen the show. This deflection of attention was, to Christina, very welcome. Hopefully the rumour mill would take a liking to the kind of labour that Bretonia was using and ignore the Liberty Navy for a while.
Bretonia prevailing though? Now that was a joke. Come to think of it, that entire transmission was full of humour. Maybe it was designed to save the reputation of the Liberty Navy by destroying the reputation of the Bretonian Armed Forces? Who knew, but regardless, she was just fine with it.
Christina leaned back on her chair and consoled herself. She'd never agreed to this recruitment method, and those pictures were obviously fake, but now she didn't have to worry. At that moment, a small smile spread across her face.
This is Lt. Commander Jeremiah Sawyer of the Liberty Navy First Fleet
I don't know whether I should be more concerned of how this ended up on my desk, or that this is from the Liberty Navy itself from years ago.
Whoever still has access to that broadcast might want to either update it completely, or remove it completely, just an advice from a Navy officer.
Respectfully,
Sawyer
Sawyer, Jeremiah
Lieutenant Commander
Liberty Navy, Primary Fleet
Important: This communication remains the property of the Libertonian Armed Forces and is subject to the jurisdiction of the Neural Net Communications Act 807 A.S, Section 30. If you have received this message in error, you are requested to contact the sender and delete the communication.
![[Image: 10zo8yb.png]](http://i41.tinypic.com/10zo8yb.png)
![[Image: sigmark2-1.jpg]](http://i801.photobucket.com/albums/yy293/barrenwaste/sigmark2-1.jpg)
![[Image: BioLinkimg-1.jpg]](http://i801.photobucket.com/albums/yy293/barrenwaste/BioLinkimg-1.jpg)
![[Image: PKNeayo.png]](http://i.imgur.com/PKNeayo.png)
![[Image: kE0kwXn.png]](https://i.imgur.com/kE0kwXn.png)