Fan Fiction
" Memoirs of a Warrior" by Wasp_Seraphin
Memoirs Of A Warrior
Part One
I sit here in my study, watching as the flickering overhead light plays along the crystal glass, the rich golden Amber liquor catching the highlights and reflecting it back. I sit here and drum my fingers to a repetitious cadence and the expensive liquor goes untouched. I sit here and ponder the series of events in my life, and how I became what I am today.
It was many years ago, so many that my old mind has lost count. There I was, a competent young officer in the colonial fleet. I made my way up thru the ranks on the battlefield, commanding from the front lines. The word going around back then, was that the High Command was going to grant me a promotion. This promotion would put me in command, as Commander General, of the whole sector in which I was stationed. My whole military career was on the verge of coming to fruition.
One month before the High Command was to convene on their decision, I was summoned to the acting Commander General’s office. The acting Commander General’s name was Thomas Vestrant, and it was his job I was to replace. General Vestrant informed me of a final mission I must perform before the High Command could make a definitive decision. This mission was to be considered extremely top secret and I was to tell no one of any details pertaining to it. He informed me to pick five of my most trusted officers, and that we were to go deep under cover posing as pirates. So one week later I found myself, with my hand picked men, escorted to the far reaches of colonial controlled territory.
We were left there with an old small drop ship and several late model medium grade battlemechs. It was planned this way so that all of the equipment was in different states of disrepair. We figured that any band of pirates would suspect something was wrong if we showed up in brand new colonial battlemechs. We were ordered not to baulk at anything that was asked of us, so we could get deeper under cover. So it was, that within one month’s time, we found ourselves teamed up with a larger pirate organization. These pirates were a fierce lot of men and women, each one an exemplary pilot in their own right.
In time I was assigned to join a raiding party, set to raid a colony on a small moon near the outlying territories. We dropped several ShadowCat’s and quickly overcame the minuscule resistance the colony put up. I was leading a group of men, the same men I left home with, and we were looking for any goods that might be valuable; at least this was our cover story. We were actually going to secretly report on the pirate’s movements using the colony’s sub-space burst transmitter. We made our way to the sub station and I was about to send my report, when I noticed a missive on the communication board. I picked up the piece of paper and saw that it was from my own military sector. My curiosity got the better of me and I started to read it.
To this day I still can’t described the range of emotions that my mind went thru while reading that damn piece of paper. Disbelief, anger, despair, these don’t even begin to touch on what I was feeling. The message read as follows:
To all Commanders and respective officers in the Colonial Fleet,
It is my sad duty to inform you that one of our own high-ranking officers has defected and become rouge. He is accused of high treason, stealing combat materials and banding with various pirate organizations. Commander Sirind Di’Makiir, of the Beta section Colonial Fleet, has hereby been condemned to immediate termination of life. It is the sole responsibility of the Colonial Fleet to stop this threat from plaguing our beloved system. As it is my duty, I will stay in command until a time when our system is more stable.
Signed,
Commander General, Thomas E. Vestrant
It all became clear to me in the time it took to read that order. The timely top-secret mission I was ordered on right before I was to assume command. The way I couldn’t tell any one any details about my mission. How I was told to select my most loyal men to accompany me. It was all a setup. Vestrant wanted that command to himself, and would do anything to keep it, even accuse a decorated office of high treason. But Vestrant made a mistake, a mistake that men who gain rank in military thru political favors and not on the battlefield make. If he wanted to get rid of me, he should have killed me. In war you never leave an enemy alive that can strike back at you later, and this was indeed a war now. That was the day my men and I decided to become pirates in truth. We joined that pirate organization of elite pilots in more then words that day.
We became true Seraphins.
I sit here in my study, watching as the flickering overhead light plays along the crystal glass, the rich golden Amber liquor catching the highlights and reflecting it back. I sit here and drum my fingers to a repetitious cadence and the expensive liquor still goes untouched. I sit here and ponder the series of events in my life, and how I became what I am today. And how I planned and extracted my vengeance on Thomas E. Vestrant.
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Memoirs of a Warrior
Part Two
I sit in my chair beside the small heating unit, letting the meager warmth spread thru out my body. Like all young men who were in their prime, I never thought that someday I would become so old, so frail. Once, there was a time that I could fight a battle, drink an enormous amount of alcohol, and then bed a woman all in the same twenty-four hour cycle. Now, I must content my self with rising from my bed each morning; sit in my chair, and think of times past. For, after all, what does an old warrior like myself have but his stories and the time to tell them?
Now, where were we? Oh yes, I was telling you of how I was betrayed. You must excuse and old man’s wandering mind, for some mornings it takes awhile to sift thru the fading memories.
After I found out that my men and I were betrayed for political gain, we decided to join the pirate organization Seraphins. I dedicated all of my time learning the ways of the pirates, and what I learned from them I added to my experiences while serving in the fleet. I then, in turn, taught the pirates the strategies used by the colonies. This was a great turning point in the success of the Seraphin organization, for now they had the knowledge of colonial fleet positions and response times.
For three years we raided and laid waste to the outlying territories, gaining equipment, riches, and a large number of followers. These new recruits came from all over the star system, but they all had one thing in common, they were all disenfranchised with the way the various governments controlled their lives. So, it was, The Seraphins found themselves to be the largest and most feared pirate community in the history of the territories.
Did you ever hear that old saying, power corrupts? Well, I was a young man rampaging thru the star system virtually unopposed, and those who apposed us were left to rot where they fell. It is a heady feeling to have so much power when one is so young. Looking back on it now, I know it for what it was; the raging anger of youth, pure and simple. But always, in the back of my mind, there was that burning hatred for Thomas E. Vestrant.
It was he who forever changed my life, it was he who proclaimed me traitor to my people, and it was he who signed his name to my death warrant. This hatred was slowly consuming me, and each time I pulled that trigger, my target, in my mind’s eye, was Vestrant. My reputation on the battlefield was that of a berserker, charging into battle with an unparalleled ruthlessness and disregard. I dreamed of vengeance night and day.
As the Seraphins grew in numbers and strength, we created a vast spy network spanning the star system. We used these spies to inform us of shipping schedules and possible weak points at key defense installations. In time, I was informed that Vestrant was to hold a military conference in one of the outlying sectors. The information stated that he would be there with a small force comprised of several light mechs and a small personal bodyguard.
But, I also had information that Vestrant had realized his error in allowing me to live, and was actively seeking ways in which to rectify that mistake. This opportunity was too good to be true, and as such I knew it for what it was. It was a blatant setup. He figured that I would jump at the chance to take my revenge on him, and in doing so fall neatly into his trap. I knew that Vestrant had no intention of going to that small planet to hold a conference, and I also knew that there would be a sizable force waiting for me there. So I did the only thing I could do, I started making my plans to engage his forces. After all, I had to let him know I would always be there, in the shadows, waiting for my chance to kill him.
I sit in my chair beside the small heating unit, letting the meager warmth spread thru out my body, letting it slowly lull me to restfulness. I am tired now; my age does not permit me to stay lucid for long periods of time. Perhaps, when I next wake, I will tell you of that small planet, and how the Seraphins engaged the might of the Colonial Fleet.
Part three coming soon.