My dear Abigail,
Word around the camp is that we will move out soon. By this time the general public will no doubt be aware of the threat posed by the Clans. They are vicious, relentless and possess weapons and technology we cannot match, but we must stop them, or failing that, we must slow their advance long enough for our forces to rally.
Our unit is full of good men and women, skilled MechWarriors all and I have no doubt that we shall make the Clanners pay for every step they take on Lyran soil. My family Mech is in good repair, our techs working extra hard to have our equipment in fighting order and despite her some 200 years of service, the old girl looks like she stepped fresh off the BlackJack assembly line.
Though I do not show it around my comrades and even now hesitate to write the words, I feel certain that I shall perish in this engagement. I write this letter so that in some small way I can show my love to you my dearest Abigail and that you will know that my last and fondest thoughts will be of you.
I march towards either glory or doom, the heaviness of my heart only lightened by the knowledge that our cause is just and our sacrifice will no doubt secure the future of our nation, if not the entire Inner Sphere. Should I perish on the field this day or the next, do not mourn me; for I will have done my duty as a soldier, holding back the tide of darkness and keeping you safe my love.
Forever Yours,
Leftenant Tobias Ballou
12th Donegal Guards RCT
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Letter Home
Started by Bill Bullet, Feb 09 2015 01:14 AM
1 reply to this topic
#1
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- Elite Founder
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- LocationHiding from the Maskirovka
Posted 09 February 2015 - 01:14 AM
#2
Posted 09 March 2015 - 05:30 PM
Hehe, on another note I wrote this awhile back...
[[Prologe]]
Warlock Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
August 11th 3060 15:19 hrs
"Oh excuse me." Acolyte Nathan Fuller states while side stepping the reeking psychotic (judging from the way he muttered incoherently to himself) homeless man. His politeness was rewarded with a withering glare and a splash as the ComStar acolyte sank halfway up to his ankle in a puddle of questionable fluid. With a look of disgust, Nathan shook his foot hoping to fling some of liquid off his foot. Sighing heavily, forced the thought of any bacterial infections he may have just received and confirmed that he had the correct address.
1112 Warlock Stables, Dickinson Avenue...
He looked around once more at the sprawling Solarian Slums and shook his head in disgust, he really hated coming to this part of town. Shaking the thoughts from mind, he pushed his way through the tinted double doors. He was immediately greeted by an grey room dominated by a massive oak desk with a fossil of a lady with a riot of iron grey hair behind it.
"Hello, may I help you?" Cassandra asked in her outrageous accent. Nathan was a bit taken back by the old lady's friendly greeting, but thought the friendliness was a welcome change.
"Package for DeMarkus Frankfurt, I was instructed to give it to him myself." He stood upright, trying to show grandma that he was unwilling to back down from his charge. The woman nodded and held up a walkie-talkie, depressed the activate button and spoke clearly, with her funky accent.
"Kaylee, there's an acolyte here from Comstar, he says that he has a package for DeMarkus." There was a slight pause punctuated with muffles before Cassandra's walkie, popped and a rather friendly voice shot back with a 'I'll be right there.'
With a grunt of satisfaction, Nathan eyeballed the various plaques and paintings placed about awards and decorations honoring Warlock Stables and it's gladiators.
**********************************************
"Kaylee, there's an acolyte here from Comstar, he says that he has a package for DeMarkus." Cass' voice sounded over her walkie, loosing none of the Wallcian's strange accent. Kaylee looked up from where she was overseeing two green techs work and with difficulty the master tech palmed the device all the while casting a concerned look in the direction of the office that overlooked the stable's mechyard. The place where her husband DeMarkus spent his days overlooking the activity taking place in the yard.
"I'll be right there." She stated while trying to sound as cheery as possible. She then made a beeline across the yard to the technician offices that connected to the main entrance, where this toaster-worshiper waited for her to escort him to her husband. Pausing she took a longing look over her domain and sighed heavily, wondering why ComStar would have a package for Mar. Opening the door she beheld the man that caused her so much worry. Pockmarked face, with lank greasy red hair, dressed in a soiled yellow acolyte's robe, the man stood idling looking over a painting of Mad-Jack Churchill hoisting a foaming mug of beer.
"Hi I'm Kaylee!" she beamed in her cheery way despite how much she didn't want to. She had the desired effect though, the man was surprised by outgoingness and stood dumbfounded for a second. Awkwardly the young man smiled and shook her hand. "I'll take the package right up to Mar." She smiled again, but it died as crater-face shook his head stubbornly.
"Sorry Ma'am, I am to give this to Mr. Frankfurt myself." He simply stated.
"Oh?" She arched a white streaked auburn eyebrow. "Alright... I guess I'll lead you up. Come this way." She began leading him out to the mechyard to the stairwell that would lead up to Mar's office. "So what's so important about this package?" she fished. "Honestly I don't know. I was instructed to give it to Mr. Frankfurt, that's all I know." Kay dropped the subject as the two continued walking on, her mind racing on what this mysterious package may be.
Reaching the stair's landing before the office, she paused then opened up the door.
"Sweetie, there's a man here from ComStar for you."
********************************************************
DeMarkus could feel the slight vibrations through the floor as someone, or in this case someone's came up the stairs. The vibrating stopped momentary before the office's door creaked open.
"Sweetie, there's a man here from ComStar for you." Kay blurted out by way of greeting/warning. The elderly Frankfurt then turned slowly in his chair to regard the acolyte curiously before rising with difficulty.
"Hey's how's you's a doing?" DeMarkus asked, butchering the English language as always. "I'm fine sir. This is for you." Nathan held out the parcel to the snowy manned scarred man. "The Peace of Blake be with yo-" DeMarkus cut him off. "Stay's, I's a's may's need tos make's a's response an I's ain't a leaving dis building less I's gotta." DeMarkus stated matter of fact.
With that the man looked over the envelope and tore it open, revealing a vid disc emblazoned with a rust red double T across the front. "Wat's dis?"
the elderly man asked, as he removed the disc and slipped it into the desk mounted disc player. The acolyte shrugged for an answer. There was a burst of static which was quickly replaced by the thuggish visage of his son Thom.
"Hiya's Pop!" The mohawked man smiled a toothy grin. "Hey's der's no way tos say dis easy, so if you'sa watchind dis, I'msa dead." The image shrugged and nodded and DeMarkus could feel Kaylee's strong grip grab his shoulder firmly. "Oh my Gawsh, Mar I'm so sorr-" the tech was cut off by Thom bursting out with a hysterical laugh. "Hey's I'msa sorry, I'ms just busting your balls. I'msa alive an well. I's won da HardCore Open Invitational, an went back to St. Ives." Thom sighed at that. "Dat's a mess, Pop, I'sa never seen fighting like dat and I'sa hate to say dis, but St. Ives can't win dat one... da CapCon got's too many warriors, it's only a matter of time before Candance throws da towel in, I's says two three years tops. But dat ain't da reason I's messaging ya... I got someting in da works, someting big.... "
DeMarkus lost interest as his son rambled on in his plans, he could have sworn he heard the words Thom's Terrors, and something about his own mercenary command, but he was too focused on the happening's down in the mechyard. He watched as a swarm of technicians worked on a clan omnimech, a Man'O'war and where his old mech, the Cataphract called PainBringer stood forgotten in a corner collecting dust. He felt a pang of regret at that moment, that his son wasn't coming home to help run the business...
[[Prologe]]
Warlock Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
August 11th 3060 15:19 hrs
"Oh excuse me." Acolyte Nathan Fuller states while side stepping the reeking psychotic (judging from the way he muttered incoherently to himself) homeless man. His politeness was rewarded with a withering glare and a splash as the ComStar acolyte sank halfway up to his ankle in a puddle of questionable fluid. With a look of disgust, Nathan shook his foot hoping to fling some of liquid off his foot. Sighing heavily, forced the thought of any bacterial infections he may have just received and confirmed that he had the correct address.
1112 Warlock Stables, Dickinson Avenue...
He looked around once more at the sprawling Solarian Slums and shook his head in disgust, he really hated coming to this part of town. Shaking the thoughts from mind, he pushed his way through the tinted double doors. He was immediately greeted by an grey room dominated by a massive oak desk with a fossil of a lady with a riot of iron grey hair behind it.
"Hello, may I help you?" Cassandra asked in her outrageous accent. Nathan was a bit taken back by the old lady's friendly greeting, but thought the friendliness was a welcome change.
"Package for DeMarkus Frankfurt, I was instructed to give it to him myself." He stood upright, trying to show grandma that he was unwilling to back down from his charge. The woman nodded and held up a walkie-talkie, depressed the activate button and spoke clearly, with her funky accent.
"Kaylee, there's an acolyte here from Comstar, he says that he has a package for DeMarkus." There was a slight pause punctuated with muffles before Cassandra's walkie, popped and a rather friendly voice shot back with a 'I'll be right there.'
With a grunt of satisfaction, Nathan eyeballed the various plaques and paintings placed about awards and decorations honoring Warlock Stables and it's gladiators.
**********************************************
"Kaylee, there's an acolyte here from Comstar, he says that he has a package for DeMarkus." Cass' voice sounded over her walkie, loosing none of the Wallcian's strange accent. Kaylee looked up from where she was overseeing two green techs work and with difficulty the master tech palmed the device all the while casting a concerned look in the direction of the office that overlooked the stable's mechyard. The place where her husband DeMarkus spent his days overlooking the activity taking place in the yard.
"I'll be right there." She stated while trying to sound as cheery as possible. She then made a beeline across the yard to the technician offices that connected to the main entrance, where this toaster-worshiper waited for her to escort him to her husband. Pausing she took a longing look over her domain and sighed heavily, wondering why ComStar would have a package for Mar. Opening the door she beheld the man that caused her so much worry. Pockmarked face, with lank greasy red hair, dressed in a soiled yellow acolyte's robe, the man stood idling looking over a painting of Mad-Jack Churchill hoisting a foaming mug of beer.
"Hi I'm Kaylee!" she beamed in her cheery way despite how much she didn't want to. She had the desired effect though, the man was surprised by outgoingness and stood dumbfounded for a second. Awkwardly the young man smiled and shook her hand. "I'll take the package right up to Mar." She smiled again, but it died as crater-face shook his head stubbornly.
"Sorry Ma'am, I am to give this to Mr. Frankfurt myself." He simply stated.
"Oh?" She arched a white streaked auburn eyebrow. "Alright... I guess I'll lead you up. Come this way." She began leading him out to the mechyard to the stairwell that would lead up to Mar's office. "So what's so important about this package?" she fished. "Honestly I don't know. I was instructed to give it to Mr. Frankfurt, that's all I know." Kay dropped the subject as the two continued walking on, her mind racing on what this mysterious package may be.
Reaching the stair's landing before the office, she paused then opened up the door.
"Sweetie, there's a man here from ComStar for you."
********************************************************
DeMarkus could feel the slight vibrations through the floor as someone, or in this case someone's came up the stairs. The vibrating stopped momentary before the office's door creaked open.
"Sweetie, there's a man here from ComStar for you." Kay blurted out by way of greeting/warning. The elderly Frankfurt then turned slowly in his chair to regard the acolyte curiously before rising with difficulty.
"Hey's how's you's a doing?" DeMarkus asked, butchering the English language as always. "I'm fine sir. This is for you." Nathan held out the parcel to the snowy manned scarred man. "The Peace of Blake be with yo-" DeMarkus cut him off. "Stay's, I's a's may's need tos make's a's response an I's ain't a leaving dis building less I's gotta." DeMarkus stated matter of fact.
With that the man looked over the envelope and tore it open, revealing a vid disc emblazoned with a rust red double T across the front. "Wat's dis?"
the elderly man asked, as he removed the disc and slipped it into the desk mounted disc player. The acolyte shrugged for an answer. There was a burst of static which was quickly replaced by the thuggish visage of his son Thom.
"Hiya's Pop!" The mohawked man smiled a toothy grin. "Hey's der's no way tos say dis easy, so if you'sa watchind dis, I'msa dead." The image shrugged and nodded and DeMarkus could feel Kaylee's strong grip grab his shoulder firmly. "Oh my Gawsh, Mar I'm so sorr-" the tech was cut off by Thom bursting out with a hysterical laugh. "Hey's I'msa sorry, I'ms just busting your balls. I'msa alive an well. I's won da HardCore Open Invitational, an went back to St. Ives." Thom sighed at that. "Dat's a mess, Pop, I'sa never seen fighting like dat and I'sa hate to say dis, but St. Ives can't win dat one... da CapCon got's too many warriors, it's only a matter of time before Candance throws da towel in, I's says two three years tops. But dat ain't da reason I's messaging ya... I got someting in da works, someting big.... "
DeMarkus lost interest as his son rambled on in his plans, he could have sworn he heard the words Thom's Terrors, and something about his own mercenary command, but he was too focused on the happening's down in the mechyard. He watched as a swarm of technicians worked on a clan omnimech, a Man'O'war and where his old mech, the Cataphract called PainBringer stood forgotten in a corner collecting dust. He felt a pang of regret at that moment, that his son wasn't coming home to help run the business...
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