06-19-2009, 09:45 AM
As i can remember, Nakayama family have been always lived in New Tokyo. Before the outbreak of war with Bretonia my father, Ichiro Nakayama, make ends moving throughout Kusari and Bretonia tourists and sometimes even businessmen or foreign diplomats. In truth, my father hated that job. Transport equipment, spare parts and electronic components was without doubt the most comfortable: they do not speak, are still where you have them stored and you do not have to present in front of Kusari State Police if any pirate has stolen them. But there was profit, not to mention that the repairs of the Armored Transport really costed a lot. I remember as a child always trying to enter inside the AT cabin. Once I accidentally started and had it not been for my brother Daisuke, who rescued me, at this time I could have crashed against Roppongi station maybe.
When my father was not working, spending all the time in the dojo family, teaching the old fencing style belonged to our ancestors. He used to tell us about them and, above all, about Nakayama Hakkudo, one of the most important swordsman of the ancient times. We do not believe those stories.We listened them because they were fascinating stories of fighting, war, swords that meet and decide in a moment the life of a man. Up there in space, it is the same. Even my mother did not believe. Her name was Molly Burke, and was born in Leeds. She met my father in one of his usual tourist trade routes. She returned from New Berlin but the Liner had to stop in New Tokyo. Unfortunately there were no Liners going to Bretonia. But there was my father. When she saw him the first time she thought he was a smuggler, with the AT that seemed to be returned from some Tau system or from NewYork Badlands. However, among the old stories of my father and Bretonian education of my mother, Daisuke and I grew happy .
Then the war began.
One day the secret police barged into our house. All Bretonian citizens had to leave New Tokyo and then back to Bretonia. It was terrible. From that day we have not had more news of my mother. My father has always feared that she was finished in some prison. The fact is that from that day he became more distant and he locked himself in his dojo, to live with memories and regrets. He died in 816 without knowing that the day before Daisuke was killed in the Tau 31 during the assault to Harris.
I stayed alone with myself. Despite what Kusari has done to my family, I continued to live in New Tokyo. But my ship is a Bretonnian Pecheron and in my heart it is called "Molly". I go back and forth, continuing the old trade route of my father, or moving Hfuel where it is most required.
I hate this war.
But do not hate my people. Once I returned to the dojo. Had been closed as a tomb after death of my father. After all this was really his grave. Inside there's always been a closed cabinet with security code. Before his death my father gave me the code. Inside there was my legacy. I cannot believe.
Rolls of rice paper entirely written in ancient Japanese. Iunderstood right away that I was in front of the whole history of the Nakayama clan. They were not fairy tales. Besides there was an e-book in which i found the translation of all the papers.
And then I read them.
When my father was not working, spending all the time in the dojo family, teaching the old fencing style belonged to our ancestors. He used to tell us about them and, above all, about Nakayama Hakkudo, one of the most important swordsman of the ancient times. We do not believe those stories.We listened them because they were fascinating stories of fighting, war, swords that meet and decide in a moment the life of a man. Up there in space, it is the same. Even my mother did not believe. Her name was Molly Burke, and was born in Leeds. She met my father in one of his usual tourist trade routes. She returned from New Berlin but the Liner had to stop in New Tokyo. Unfortunately there were no Liners going to Bretonia. But there was my father. When she saw him the first time she thought he was a smuggler, with the AT that seemed to be returned from some Tau system or from NewYork Badlands. However, among the old stories of my father and Bretonian education of my mother, Daisuke and I grew happy .
Then the war began.
One day the secret police barged into our house. All Bretonian citizens had to leave New Tokyo and then back to Bretonia. It was terrible. From that day we have not had more news of my mother. My father has always feared that she was finished in some prison. The fact is that from that day he became more distant and he locked himself in his dojo, to live with memories and regrets. He died in 816 without knowing that the day before Daisuke was killed in the Tau 31 during the assault to Harris.
I stayed alone with myself. Despite what Kusari has done to my family, I continued to live in New Tokyo. But my ship is a Bretonnian Pecheron and in my heart it is called "Molly". I go back and forth, continuing the old trade route of my father, or moving Hfuel where it is most required.
I hate this war.
But do not hate my people. Once I returned to the dojo. Had been closed as a tomb after death of my father. After all this was really his grave. Inside there's always been a closed cabinet with security code. Before his death my father gave me the code. Inside there was my legacy. I cannot believe.
Rolls of rice paper entirely written in ancient Japanese. Iunderstood right away that I was in front of the whole history of the Nakayama clan. They were not fairy tales. Besides there was an e-book in which i found the translation of all the papers.
And then I read them.