My friend,
I hear you find the recent pact with Yesha to be a most agreeable idea, and for the moment, I believe that too. But only for the moment, to get back at those who caused our losses. Do you really, truly, want to become a slave, a worker in the field for those oppressive rulers? I would consider your options carefully once our revenge is complete.
Being a scavenger is what they labeled me as, a picker of trash, he who goes and kills without discretion just to get the scrap off of their ships. They see me, no, our entire way of pushing forward with the technology of the past, as simply seeing if we can make the most grotesque death possible for our enemies. You know me, and my... ah, lack for sincerity. But I hinge on the truth when I say that death is not what we live for. We live to advance, to grow, to outclass these men who believe that sheer manpower could trump tech.
I have read stories from books of those in bunkers hidden throughout the Dusty Plains, and I've found what I think they work like. You wouldn't understand, and I won't lie when I say they don't exist anymore, but I think with their desire to become a strict orderly nation, they're beginning to wane with their decisons, letting a ruler dictate how they live. Maybe now, that ruler is looking towards our advanatage. But should we permanetly join with those... ugh, Yeshans, then they'll begin to attempt to push their authority over us. And soon, we'll all be underneath the heel of a single man who decides on a dime if you should die on a spike, in front of a gatling, or underneath the cannons of a Scylla Mortar.
From your friend in Anglea,
(The message stops there. Smudge marks lie where the name should be.)