Cossacks was here again today. Even took Alpha out on a test run, though he kept it short. No complaints filtering to me, so I'm assuming the technical aspects are ok. Didn't do a live fire test, though, as we need to conserve the ammo… the Word hit another firebase about eighty klicks out. Heard the defenders lit off the supplies inside, which is kind of a shame, but better it go up in flames than those Robbies using our bullets against us. (Yeah, I’m using O'Reilly's nickname for them now—a combo of "Robes" and "Wobbies", which to me has a less-mouthful ring to it.)

Pops is doing better—I think he's accepted the fact that his son's lost to him. Hopefully, for Pop's sake, that rat-bastard boy is off in the Chaos March and nowhere near here.

It's been fascinating talking to Pops… did you know he actually fought in that Death Commando raid back in '29? He was the third 'Mech out on the field, behind the Fox and Reno (from Team Banzai—remember them?). Took down a Cappie Banshee with his Centurion. From how Pops tells it, you'd think he single-handedly saved Hanse's life that night. And you know what, I almost believe him, too! Man, he's had the life. I know I've only served with him since my posting at the NAIS since '52, but Pops has been around. Duty in the War of '39, lead a strike party out on Breed.

I think he may have even served with my grandfather then, but he's not entirely sure what unit he was with. Seems Pops' duty with the NAIS had him filling in across the AFFC as a backup pilot here there and elsewhere. Of course, he was always testing them Cennies - he knows them inside and out. I'd swear he's named every part in his current ride, he's constantly crawling in and around it.

Which is good, actually. Project Legion is about a new 'Mech, sure, but it was originally supposed to be a souped-up Cennie—Centurion II, I think they wanted to call it. But budget was tight and they ended up scrapping most of it. They had the frame built, so rather than waste it, they decided to look at making a quick and dirty 'Mech that would be easy to manufacture and get to our forces to replenish our hellish losses from that damned civil war. I'm not entirely sure making what ended up being a hyper-midget Blitzkrieg was the right idea, but I will say that if the rotary works right, this beast is a perfect flanker. Though I'm beginning to have doubts about the Beagle mount on it—in order to elicit full coverage, it's got to be right on the top of the head or shoulder, otherwise it's useless. Thing is, it's an easy target mark. And in my opinion, ruins the ugly-but-beautiful lines on it.

You know, I'm thankful now that I was originally assigned one of those ancient Hussars back when I went through my training. I've got that experience of "fire and run" (though admittedly, it didn't serve me well on Thorin—thanks to that big-assed pothole, I got those wonderful pins all up my legs…), so keeping that in mind has helped me argue rather successfully with Dr. Philby regarding armor placement and balance algorithms.

You know, I can't help but keep thinking about Pop's kid, Geoff. Why would he desert his family, his nation to go off and serve with such a secretive organization? And now, considering the absolute remorselessness these Robbies have shown, how could someone of that attitude come from someone so kind, so dedicated, so dutiful as Arameas? The man doesn't have a mean bone in his body! Hell, even when he found out that Jenkins was stealing his bourbon during their rotation, he didn't get mad. He just handed the bottle to him and said "apparently, you need it more than I. Take it, don't steal it. All you had to do was ask." Considering how scarce those diversions are for us right now… I don't know if I could've done it.

The kid must've been adopted. Or born with a short circuit in his head.

Hey, I heard today rumors that you and the remaining Guardsmen may be in the area soon on patrol. I hope you guys get clearance to swing by here—I'd love to meet Reinhardt Steiner. From all the stories around here, you'd think the man single-handedly choked the Falcons and sent them running home to Kerensky sterile. Oh, and of course I'd want to see you, too! Ha!

Breakfast time. My stomach's rumbling mighty fierce. Heard we're getting fresh produce and eggs today—some of the nearby farmers dropped a full batch of harvest goods in town.

Love you lots!

Robert