Field trip boredom brews creativity. Just brainstorming content for my potential comic idea in future.

“Here’s the three of us, or should I say four. Me, Roger, Dan and our Skirmisher Walker having our photo took in the ol’ Nalibe savannah just outside Vanavvo outpost where we got assigned for a while. Frontier life’s pretty dull y’see so we jumped to the opportunity when some travellin’ photographer and his pictograph box of sorts was stayin’ nearby. Took him a while to develop a copy for us but well, we weren’t going anywhere for a few weeks.

Pretty hot out here in the dry season- that’s why we’re wearing our pith helmets instead of our steelies, which are liable to cook your head somewhat in the midday sun. And since we ain’t back in our lovely cool Avenar, we don’t wear hardly any armour either. Just too hot and, well, apart from the Colonial Guard of Ostmar some hundred miles north, there ain’t much out here that can hurt us unless I accidently tip us up on some rough ground.

Oh sorry, forgot to say didn’t I? I’m the driver of our tea tray on legs- the other two act as my gunners and observers. Roger mans the big fifty cal at the front- best damn gunner you could ask for! Few guys can train their sights on a target when our walkers pitchin’ up an' down runnin’ at full speed. Dan tends to rest around in the back an' spies a bit with his binoculars- easy life eh? In battle he runs back and forth spottin’ targets, taking a pop at ‘em with the light machine gun and mans the mortar when we need to flush someone out of their hole.

As for the walker itself it’s an open top death trap with a few peashooters with tiny firing arcs, and a few thin steel plates for armour. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world! Gone are the old models that sent half the lads back with motion sickness- the new ‘uns still buck a bit but are pretty smooth by comparison. An’ the new gyroscopes make our jobs easier for aimin’ and balance. ‘Course you can still trip the whole thing over but it’s much harder these days unless you’re really unlucky with the terrain. Infantry are pretty screwed if we swing by. Though it’s us who’ll be in trouble if we encounter anything more than a recon walker- only got machine guns and a mortar after all. If that happens then well, time to use our speed an’ leg it!

Such is life, though at this rate I’ll be spending my prime years sitting on me arse all day in some backwater outpost. Why’s Carrovia so interested in this place anyway? Ostmar’s men keep milling about in the interior too so maybe something’ll spark up one day. Eh, come what may. Pass me a cig will ya?"