The York Fleet

[Markam]

CLASS: Dunkirk
CREW: CLASSIFIED
ARMAMENT: CLASSIFIED

The Battleship York was stationed in Leeds primarily to provide security for the LD-14 Uranium Processing Center, but also to patrol the neighboring Tau-31 system for criminal activity. However, due to Kusari aggression, it found itself on the frontline of fighting, its pilots being the most accustomed to the Tau-31 ice fields, found themselves taking on a great deal of the fighting in the system, especially the most well defended points.

Despite great effort from the York fleet, the fighting reached Leeds. The York's typically blunt Admiral blamed the Derby Fleet for being 'Bloody careless' for allowing Kusari to enter Leeds. The two fleets of York and Derby endured a long standing class rivalry, with the York Fleet containing mostly Leeds volunteers of common blood, with the Derby being mostly nobles from London, and rich factory owners and their sons from Leeds.

The general mood of the York fleet is one of stubborness, and characteristic bluntness considered rude by other fleets, despite this, they are widely respected as some of the best pilots in the BAF. The command staff share the common lineage of its crew, and despite its aggression and stubborness, prides itself on keeping as many pilots alive as possible.

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**Retrieving log entry: 'J.Redmond on the York fleet'**
**ID : Commodore John Redmond (CBE)**
**Begin Entry**

Seems like yesterday, sat in my Templar, a poor recruit, but now I find myself through the ranks and in charge of combat operations of the Battleship York. I didnt expect it, frankly, a commoner like myself to take command of anything bigger than a bomber. But despite being able to overcome the class dominated command system, most like me, end up here within the Battleship York fleet, they like to segregate class if they cant keep the upper ranks pure blue blood.

But those sods, without us, they'd be proper buggered right now, in the middle of this war, the Derby rolled up without a minutes experience in the cold wastes of Tau-31, nevermind fighting a bloody war. It doesnt take a genius to see that the ponses on Derby were born with silver spoons in their mouths.

This fleet is the scum of Bretonia, we're bloodied, we're merciless, we fight with all at our hands, we swear, we spit and we dont take to losing. Though without our vices, we'd have no virtues, the enemy knows when he fights a member of the York fleet, its no pistols at dawn. They've respect for our experience and resilence, even 'honour' as one of them once put it, we may be the scum of Bretonia, but god help Bretonia if its scum did not protect its arse from all thats big and bad in the universe.

**End LOG**

**ID: Commodore John Redmond (CBE) **

[Markam]

York 8th Fleet Battleship profile

Bretonian Armed Forces Battleship ID: BAF|HMS-Majestic
Class: Dunkirk
Role: Ship of the line
Status: In procces of re-arming at Southampton
Captain: Admiral John Redmond (CBE), acting Captain Commodore Evyn Hunter
(2i/c): Commodore Evyn Hunter

Armament: **CLASSIFIED**

Secondary Loadout: **CLASSIFIED**


Armor: Type VIII "Stalwart" Multi-breach anti plasma reactive shell armour.

Primary Propulsion System: BMM-E-582-55 "RollsRoyce" High-Density MOX Engine

Auxiliary Propulsion System: BMM-S-865-12 "Sidestep" All Angle thrust-system

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Historical notes:

Construction ordered in 805 A.S and completed in 810 A.S. The Majestic has served with the York Fleet for 5 Years, and is expected to remain in service at least until a new series of Battleships are designed. Service began in 812 A.S after a delayed trial period due to accidents within the Tau-31 asteroid field where rocks drifted into its path, causing minor damage. Previously serving under Captain Clive Ranton until an incident in 816, where he lost his life when his Armoured Transport was ambushed enroute to New London for a briefing. Taking over command of the Majestic, Captain John Redmond (updated: Admiral as of 817), previously Commander of the HMS Repulse with a long service record. The Majestic has seen combat in Tau-31, New London, Cambridge, but primarily in Leeds under the 8th Fleet of York. Upon being promoted to Admiral in 817, John Redmond officially took command of the 8th fleet (York), while the Majestic serves as his vanguard, the admiral's official flagship is that of the York. Commodore Evyn Hunter has taken active command of the Majestic, serving as second officer officially.

Engagements:

Battle of Southampton; Corsair capital threats attempting to halt production and steal design and technical knowhow; result in total loss for corsairs *HMS Rodney in support

Battle for Tau-31; held gate for as long as possible, involved in most counter attacks throughout the campaign, forced to retreat to Leeds with minimal damage. *Together with the BAF fleet

Battle for Leeds (ongoing); attempted to hold the futile defence of Stokes, landed heavy hits upon Kusari Battleship, was forced to pull out due to an explosion on the port side, 34 deaths reported. *Together with the BAF fleet

Coalition stand off in Cambridge; Held a 1-1 long distance engagement with a Coalition Battleship, limited ship to ship engagement, fight conducted with Fighter and bomber craft, coalition forces overwhelmed and Coalition BS pulling out with moderate damage. *Combined fighter fleets in support

Battle of New London; Corsair capital threat at Planet London, HMS Rodney caught without support, forced to pull out with severe damage, outnumbered HMS Majestic with HMS Kent in formation successfully defeats force twice its size using formation and concentrated fire. *bomber wings assisted but remained outnumbered

Crew Details:

**CLASSIFIED**

[gezza999]

Roger Ring was for once, having a break – sitting, slouching forwards, in a grotty pub in Cambridge, staring into the bottom of a beer. He’d taken his usual chair, near a large window. Contemplating the last few years of his life as well as recent, not a position he wanted to be in. He’d intended to make the most of his day-leave, he had planned to meet up with some of his old friends, various incidents had made this impossible, yet another leek on LD-14, industrial accident, a Molly raid on Scarborough, reports said they only found a smashed helmet, full of gold, the list of incidents were continually running through his mind…

This was to be his last day where he would be stationed on the Norfolk, front line service beckoned. Replacement transfers to the York were rare, but the transport to Leeds would arrive tomorrow.

The orders came through only a day ago. Unusually, the transfer order came from the Home Office. Ring also happen to know people on the York, who said no-one else was scheduled to arrive for that month. Clearly, this repositioning was not to replenish the York, but to shift him out of the public eye. His antics had earned a slight ire from the public which the Armed Forces could ill afford at such a crucial time. The Zoners especially, complained due to his un-courteous behavior.

Ring carefully shifted around to face the bartender; “ ‘Scuse me, bill please…”

He dealt with his debt and dragged himself back to his apartment.

---

This is my signature.

[AdamantineFist]

Neville Hughes sat at his desk, writing up his latest batch of reports and filing all the assorted paperwork a Captain of the BAF had to deal with. He took a swig of his coffee and set to work on the next batch of field reports his men had sent in. Things had not gone well over the past two weeks. After narrowly escaping death after getting shot down by Kusari raiders, his injuries had kept him grounded, and he'd had one hell of a boring time waiting for the doctors to give him a green light. That and the rash of losses he'd suffered in the men under his command. His cruiser, the magnificent, newly constructed Invictus, had taken a beating too, recently. A Kusari bomber had gotten an antimatter bolt just in near one of the reactors. Miracle she survived that one, thought Hughes, Few metres to the left and she'd 'ave gone up in one big fireball.

"Well, guess fings can't get much bloody worse..." he muttered to himself. Just then, as though cued by his unwitting words, a knock came upon his office door. Though it was timid and soft, Neville would come to sorely regret it. "Come in," he barked.

A timid lieutenant walked into the room, clutching a sheaf of papers close to his chest. "Well, wot in the bloody 'ell is it, man?" Neville asked him sharply. The lieutenant shuffled in place nervously. "Come on, then, spit it out."

"Err... ah... these are for you, sir," said the lieutenant, handing Hughes the papers.

"Well now, wot's this... I... BLOODY 'ELL!" he screamed, jumping to his feet in anger. His face flushed red. "They're sendin' me to the York?! Damn toffs fink they can boot an outstanding officer out there just 'cause o' 'is parentage. Narsty little blue-bloods. I'll show 'em a fing or two..." Glancing up, he saw the lieutenant still standing there, rigid and tansfixed by the Captain's blazing eyes. "Eh? Wot are you still doin' ere?! Don't you 'ave somefin' better to be doin' than standin' around gawkin'? Get to work, man!" Neville barked after him. The words seemed to unfreeze him instantly, and he practically ran out of the room.

Neville plunked back down in his seat and slumped back, running a hand through his rapidly greying hair. "Bloody 'ell..."

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