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Candles


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#1 TygerLily

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Posted 30 November 2015 - 01:38 PM

Candles

The mess hall of dropship Banquo was empty for now. Eventually, my friends would saunter in one-by-one from the cold of - whatever f.ckin’ planet we were on now. MechWarriors remember planets by their landmarks or firefights or who died there. I couldn't recall anything about the last handful of planets we’d been to.

I was still wearing the uniform of the local militia. It was a bit snug - came with a badge and everything. I finished off my scotch and snatched the bottle to pour another.

Teaching the locals how to use their handful of Mechs was cake - run them around the valley, shoot up some old cars and buildings with lasers, make'm yell “Bang! Bang!” over comms to simulate ballistics. It was entertaining at least. Part of me wanted to be there for their first engagement; to hear them yelling inane sh.t over their comms while fending off the local pirates.

The militia had small force of mostly light ‘Mechs, a few old tanks - maybe two companies worth of volunteers toting machine guns and a dozen or so man-pack single SRM launchers. Every training day was the same - taking greener than green hicks out in the always hilarious Urbanmech, a couple decent Locusts, a Firestarter, and their pride and joy: a 40-ton Clint. I think they had about twenty tons of ammo on hand for it’s Armstrong J11 Autocannon/5. Actually, the whole ammo site was full of proverbial tumbleweeds. I could count on my fingers and toes the number of shells they had for the Urbie’s ‘20. That was supposed to last the next three months till shipments came in.

It was pretty damn sorry but it was the only defense from a group of miscreants looking to squeeze oil from this pathetic rock of a community. The people were poor but these pirates did not care. Hell, they were probably in it for the fun. I was a merc; I knew the feeling. ‘Cept I had some morals…

The pirates would raid the town. The town would fight back - occasionally successfully - and pull in some salvage; fix it up. Rinse, repeat. The pirates seemed to have a steady supply of smaller ‘Mechs but they never seemed to over extend or show any real strength. It was a pretty easy job here.

All this back and forth also lead to a steady need to fill the empty cockpits of these ‘Mechs; less since my corp, Cameron’s Highlanders, came in to train them up. ‘Lotta dead farm boys in the conflict…

I cut that thought short as my eyes rested on the unopened bottle - a f.cking expensive bottle - of scotch up on the wall flanked by a couple lit candles. Best way to store such a treasure? Most definitely not but it was the best way to honor the dead. The candlelight flickered through the bottle washing the wall in a somber, dancing amber glow. The whole wall was etched with names.

I felt a stinging around my eyes and scoffed at myself.

Empty cockpits are what landed us in this place. Cameron’s Highlanders always fought hard. Always brought the heat. Always took care of our families.

Heat; I mused.

I thought about the wax being drawn up the wicks of the candles, catching fire, burning off in light and warmth. Smoke wandered out from the singular flames into the air until it dissipated into the other environmental molecules.

Transfiguration.

Goddamn Clanners, I thought but dismissed it. Didn’t matter. People are people; war was a plentiful business. No use being mad at those test tube babies. If it weren’t them, it’d be the Houses fighting each other.

Candles had come and gone; used up their fuel. Their flame ceremoniously carried to the new candles. Training these yokels was making ends meet until we could get new pilots, recoup some Mechs. Convince the burnt outs to come back from retirement. Rebuild our family.

My mind wandered to one of our latest family, pilot called Sax, until I noticed that somehow my glass was empty again. I started to pour another from the bottle of cheap stuff.

“Ahoy hoy!” said a cheery voice.

A man entered wearing the same sort of uniform as me. It was Gwozdz; last name and callsign.

“How was class?” I said offering the bottle..

“Oh, my God…” he began.

Edited by TygerLily, 30 November 2015 - 11:05 PM.


#2 Aranzor

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Posted 01 December 2015 - 12:16 PM

One thing I really like about your style and the mindset of some of your characters is the focus on the group being more of a family than just a bunch of mercs. There'll always be that bunch that come and go but you get the sense of a 'central' group that persist and have to carry on. Some for memories, some for the bettering of tomorrow, and others to hold on to what they have for as long as they can.

Cheers to ya and keep on writing!

#3 TygerLily

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Posted 01 December 2015 - 01:43 PM

Thanks man! That part is "based on a true story" haha. I was just talking with my friends the other day that this New Years will be the fourth that I've spent with MWOers and the third with my current group of friends. Not to mention, in the summer of 2013 I lost my job and had a baby on the way (born on October) and my friends suprised me with a bunch of gift cards in the mail. They are more than friends to me. =)





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