Loiner

[Lucas]

Starting with my grandfather. A pureblood Bretonian. A simple worker from Leeds, just like his parents. A miner, actually. One of the few that were unfortunate enough to be employed on Graves Station, a place owned by a man that shared his name with own Station and even company. Being forced to work for less than the average miner, while having to work twice as hard.

My grandfather was one of the first Mollies. Or that is what they call themselves now. That was in... 752 I think. We call that the Founders' Day Revolt ever since. But the story doesn't stop there with my grandfather. He was so fed up with Graves that he was one of the people suggesting to throw him out of the airlock. A true worker, and a coldblooded one at that. Or I suppose that is what he was like, since I've never met him.

But his suffering doesn't end here. His will, from what I heard, was so strong that he was willing to risk his life to stop the Battleship that the Armed Forces had sent to take down their revolution. As one of the few people, my grandfather fought the Hood off after its engines had been crippled in the Minefield. And as a result of all this, he gave his own life. Leaving behind his wife and his young son. He lived a life full of suffering, and it all came to an end that day. I don't think he would regret anything, though. In the end, he did what he wanted.

Next, my father. Obviously devastated by the death of his faster ever since he was a child, he had it even worse. A loiner (a person from Leeds) as well. Being born and raised on Leeds wasn't something that anyone wanted. And his life got even better as well! Kusari came knocking on our doors in the Tau's, and being so close to the Tau-31 System, my father (who was raised a patriot by his mother after my grandfather had passed away) decided to join the Armed Forces. To everyone's surprise, he was accepted.

And who would have thought? He died. As a hero? Probably not. To a majority of the people at least. To me, my younger sister and our mother, possibly even our grandmother, he was a true hero. A man that offered up his life for his country. Isn't that what a hero does? I wouldn't know. But his life sucked, as well. From rags to nothing.

And I? I'm a Loiner myself. I have a sister, as I mentioned. And a mother, but my grandmother passed. Living on Leeds is awful if I didn't mention that yet. During the Kusari war, and even during that Gallic Invasion, there was barely any food. People were starving all around. Over half of the population evacuated, and quite a few people died. But growing up there, that wasn't anything special to either me or my sister. You don't get a lot of education on that sh*thole either. It has been a place for workers, and that is precisely what it looked like until the very end.

By the time I got evacuated, I had already gotten asthma. A stupid disease that would prevent me from joining the Armed Forces a few years later, just like my father. Apparently, people with asthma are not fit to join the navy. Why? I have never been told, and I have asked multiple times, I can assure you that. But before I even got to apply for anything, I was forced to rehabilitate and gain some weight. Because you know, after being on Leeds for that long, I was very skinny, just like everyone from there. And I'm not even exaggerating when I say that most of us were only skin and bones.

So what did I do? I waited. And waited. And then I applied to join the BPA. And once more, against anyone's beliefs, I was accepted! But not when I applied the first time. Or the second time. But third time's a charm, as we say. Through hard work I was able to become something that I had never dreamed of, and something that my father would probably be proud of. After all that suffering, something good happened to me.

My name is Hayden Cooper, I'm now 30 years old and I'm a Loiner. And after everything that has happened, I'm proud to stand where I do right now, presenting you my story.

That sentence about something good happening to me was a lie, by the way. The reason I'm writing this is because I'm stuck in my Templar as I'm making this. My patrol has been sent to Newcastle to assist the Armed Forces in the area with some sort of hostiles. Turns out they're called Nomads, and they're fuck*ng terrifying, I swear. Or maybe they're not as strong as I make them out to be and I'm just an awful pilot. After all, I've not been flying for a long time yet. But here I sit.. in my damaged ship, my patrol wiped out otherwise, the Armed Forces nowhere to be found.

If this is ever found, please make sure to send it to my mother and my sister, and pretend that I died like a hero in a glorious battle. That's what they would want. And what I want, I think.