A tower of steel
A pillar of armor
A giant of metal
Standing so tall, the sun hides
A tower of steel
A pillar of armor
A giant of metal
Looming and towering over all before and around
A tower of steel
A pillar of Armor
A giant of metal
On legs wide enough, to block a church aisle
A tower of steel
A pillar of armor
A giant of metal
Painted in the glorious shade of Militia green
A tower of steel
A pillar of armor
A giant of metal
His plates, dented by IMC fire, but unbreached
A tower of steel
A pillar of armor
A giant of metal
The instrument of vengeance for all those the IMC has slain
A tower of steel
A pillar of armor
A giant of metal
His railgun muzzle so often smoking, fist clenched to pound away
BT-7274
The giant
The tower
The pillar
Guardian of freedom
As poetry went, it wasn't so bad.
Studying the lines of text on his datapad, Jack Cooper smiled slightly. Ok, so maybe he wouldn't be winning any awards for this level of literacy mastery ( if you could even attempt to call it that ), but he'd done what counted:
Spoken honestly.
BT had been a true brother. A true warrior of the Frontier. They'd both been committed to the fight. Committed to booting the IMC off the Frontier, and ending their wanton exploitation and oppression of the free planets.
It was a fight they couldn't win. They were fighting an idea- that of the denizens of the Frontier to live free. BT understood that.
And, if sacrificing himself in such a way as he had- going headlong into the heart of the Fold weapon as it was activating- wasn't proof enugh of that commitment, then Jack didn't know what was. He missed that Titan like heck already.
The brass was preparing a new Titan for him, but Jack was already determined, and committed to a new cause, to stand alongside the first one:
Remember BT.
The Giant.
The Pillar.
The Tower.
The Guardian.