Ernest’s legendary gear is rewarded to the player when all lore challenges are completed.

(Inscription upon the face of the plaque award to Sgt. Ernest Igrin for his actions during the ill-fated evacuation of Menneck-B.)
For his valor in defense of his homeworld against Varelsi assault;
For his bravery in securing the safety of 324 souls at the risk of his own life;
For his tireless and commendable service to his planet and his people;
MSCB Command hereby awards SGT. ERNEST IGRIN with the Menneck Wings of Valor.

|| UPR LOGBOOK / REPORT, ENTRY #2235904728
|| USER: Captain Trevor Ghalt
|| SUBJECT: Demolitions Candidate
|| DATE: y.19946, d.18

The disastrous evacuations at Menneck may have been one of the UPR’s greatest failures, but I’ll be damned if the system’s heroes didn’t rise to the occasion. Case in point: Sgt. Ernest Igrin, one of Menneck-B’s premiere demolitions experts, and by far one of the most decorated candidates to cross my desk. This aviant’s got a service record a mile long, and unlike Benedict, he’s pretty well-regarded by his peers and reports alike.

And best of all, Ernest’s a born leader. He spent most of his time prior to the Darkening of Menneck building special weapons teams and training new recruits in explosives handling and bomb defusal, and earned himself a reputation as one of the hardest, most disciplined instructors of his generation. According to his record, he defied his commanding officer’s orders to evacuate with his squad just hours before Menneck was darkened, rallied a couple of extra pairs of hands, and blasted his way through a collpased subway tunnel to free over 300 civilians trapped inside.

Gonna keep my eye on this one. We could use a demolitions expert, and hell, maybe he’ll have better luck whipping Benedict into shape than I did — or at least get him to tone it down a notch or two.

(Voicemail delivered to Toby’s inbox on-board the Nova following their recruitment as Battleborn. Audio attached, transcript below.)
Toby. Ernest here. Being that we’re gonna be squaddies for the forseeable future, I want to tell you a little story about yours truly.

As you know, Aviants come in all shapes and sizes, but we, as feathered fellows, generally get lumped into two categories: the flyers, and the flightless. That’s been the line drawn in the sand since time immemorial, and as a fellow flightless fella, it’s been a thorn in my backside since I was hatched. Seems like you’ve been suffern’ under the same indignation.

But I’m here to tell you, solider: us flightless type? We’re carved outta woood. We had to work twice as hard, hustle twice as fast, and be twice as smart as our airborne counterparts. We’re the underdog. Bird! Underbird.

And that’s been the fire under this old soldier’s ass since the day he entered the service — and you got that same fire, kid. Under your ass! And in your heart! And in, uh, your, uh… colorful language.

But a soldier’s gotta own that fire, Toby. You gotta hold it in your hands — uh, flippers! You’ve got flippers — you hold it in your flippers and you forge it into something more!

So what if you can’t fly?! You’ve got a propellant that beats the everlovin’ pants offa wings — a propellant that’ll launch you screaming into the stratosphere. That propellant? That’s fire! This metaphor’s extremely over-extended, but you get my drift, right? Right.

Listen up, Toby! Asshats like Benedict are always gonna rule the skies. I say let ’em. They don’t got the heart that we do. They don’t got the fire. Don’t you ever lose that. If you do, I will PERSONALLY beat it back into you. Am I kidding? Do you REALLY want to find out? I think not!

(Excerpted transcript from UPR training materials created during Ernest’s tenure as an instructor, entitled “UPR-TR-A7: Grenades and You”. Ernest addresses a fresh batch of recruits and imparts some wisdom on the 40mm grenade canister.)
Eyes up, recruits! This is a 40-millimeter grenade. And it’s a very special grenade. Anybody care to guess why?

(No response.)

Because it’s YOURS!

You’re gonna keep this grenade till it grows up. It’s gonna get bullied, it’s gonna endure several rites of passage, and you’ll see it through every step of the way as a proud grenade mom and/or dad.

You’ll take it to grenade school and get it acquainted with brand new grenade friends in litle league. You’ll take gobs of pictures of your little bundle of joy. And where are you going to keep those pictures? In your WALLET! Or FRAMED on a MANTELPIECE! The choice is yours, maggots!

Right now it’s just a pile of powder and iron, but when it’s ready to be fired at the nearest unsuspecting hostile? It’s gonna become something MORE!

|| UPR CORRESPONDENCE TOOL
|| TO: Cpt. Trevor Ghalt
|| FROM: Sgt. Ernest Igrin
|| SUBJECT: RE: Worthless Pukes

Captain Ghalt! Sgt. Igrin reporting!

First! I wish to express my gratitude for bringing me into the fold. It’s a mighty fine fold. Well… mostly fine fold. Second! Per your request, I’ve worked up readiness evaluations on all of your recruits. If I may speak freely, Captain: these are the sorriest, saddest excuses for soldiers as I’ve ever encountered, and if this is what we’re putting up against the Jennerit and the Varelsi, I’m afraid we’re screwed. Screwed beyond reckoning. Unless we do something about it.

If you want to get these worthless pukes whipped into shape on the double, I’ve got a training regimen that just might do the trick. Fair warning: boot camp with Sgt. Igrin is the kind of nightmare that’ll make the Varelsi look like sleepy kittens by comparison.

I am not kind.
I am not friendly.
But I AM effective.

I can’t promise that everyone will make it through. Hell, I can’t even promise they’ll survive. But if this outfit of yours is to stand any chance in the wars to come, we need to pack these pukes into a blender, set that bastard to purée, and pour what’s left over into a mold that vaguely resembles a solider. That’ll get us halfway there. And what’ll make up the difference? Discipline! Courage! Fire-forged grit!

One last note: I’m going to pay special attention to Benedict. He’s no stranger to my brand of training, but apparently it didn’t take the first time around. Being that this is a matter of my record, my personal pride, Benedict’s going to be the star pupil of Camp Ernest aboard Nova. I’ll make a solider out of that arrogant ass yet — just you watch.