Archive for R. Capowski

Backstory – Billy Bishop

Posted in Backstory Translation - R. Capowski, Website Translation with tags , , , on March 31, 2012 by Wynyard


In the desert there lived a lizard.

One could hardly tell it apart from the burning sands it ran across; it was almost the same color.

The sun beat down mercilessly.  The air, the ground  –  everything was on fire.  I’d better hurry up, he thought  –  if I don’t get back to my nest, I’m gonna be one fried lizard!

The lizard moved his legs as fast as he could.  But when he did, a giant roadblock suddenly appeared in his path.  This had never happened to him before  –  certainly not on his usual route!

…Well, he’d never be able to get back home like this.  The lizard was a bit confused, but, hungry for shade, he crawled underneath the roadblock regardless.

–It’s so hot…

My back is burning up…

How many hours have I been out here…

–How many days have I been out here?…

So came these muttered words from a man who lay sprawled out in the middle of the desert.  He was a U.S. Marine, team leader of a special Force Recon patrol.  And, right now, the odds were good that he was fighting a losing battle against the heat.


It had happened on the 65th day of a special mission to the Middle East.

Their job had been to locate a tiny village that had become the stronghold of a group of extremists.  They had decided to launch a surprise attack on the town, without calling for reinforcements.

Their equipment was state of the art; their bodies were honed weapons that betrayed not a wasted movement.  They had the confidence of men who’d gone through hell to get the skills they had.  They were special forces, best of the best  –  and they knew it.

Looking back on it now, though, they might have overestimated themselves.

But the conclusion of the fight came quickly enough to chase any lingering doubt from their minds.  Right after the attack commenced, the extremists suffered a swift and irreparable blow with the suicide of their leader.

Their mission was a success  –  brought to a safe conclusion.

–Mission accomplished.


—…We copy you.  ……Secure the perimeter at once.



The man cut the wireless with an audible sigh of relief.

As his breath escaped his lips, he surveyed his surroundings.  A lone young girl had appeared on the street corner.  She held a water jug in her hands and gave him a cheerful smile.

Then it happened.  As if on cue, the previously-quiet town square flooded with people  –  people now free from the grip of terror who had come to express their thanks.  (Or so it seemed.)

He broke into a smile despite himself; the tension fled from his mind.  He slowly held out a hand to help the girl with her jug…

…and then it all ended.

The crack of gunfire, echoing across the plaza…

A scream…


Explosions…  Cheers…

By the time he’d realized that it was a trap, it was too late.  He felt a sharp pain in his stomach…

–Give me back my papa!  MURDERER!

As he faded from consciousness, the cries of the girl echoed through the man’s mind.


–Am I going to die?…

Seven days had already passed since his unit had been destroyed.  He

couldn’t even tell which way was up in this heat.

Ever since then…for days on end…he had dragged his feet across the

desert, wandering its expanse.  To survive, he’d sipped the water from

inside cacti, gnawed tree roots…ate anything he could find that was

edible.  But in this country of death, it would all amount to a wasted

effort in the end.

His body had long ago lost the ability to scream.  Guts alone propelled

him forward.  But he was weakening  –  to the point where even his hands

refused to grasp.

But then……

just when he was hanging on by his very last thread…

–…Is that all you got?

A voice echoed in his mind.  He dragged his leaden eyelids open and sensed a shadow looming over him.

–Y…you again…

It never failed to appear in the man’s weakest moments.

–Who……who are you……

The shadow ignored his words…

–…Is that all you got?

It just asked the same question over and over.

–…Is that all you got?

But today…today was different.

–…Is that all you got?  –ly…Bishop…

He snapped back to reality at the sound of his own name.


Without thinking, his father’s name escaped from his lips.

–Do you want power?…The power to protect others…

The “shadow” resolved itself into the figure of a man.

–…Who…who are you!?

And then, it slowly extended its right hand.

–Then take my hand…  ’cause the power you’re looking for lies right there.



…The man hesitated for a split second.  …But in that large palm before him lay all the answers he sought.  He knew by instinct to whom it belonged.


In that instant, sheer will pushed his flesh past its limit.

The limbs that should have long ago ceased to function shook as they pulled their owner to his feet.  He grasped the giant hand held out to him with all his might.  He opened his eyes and searched the images that swam before him for a point on which to fixate ahead.

And when he did–

–they came to rest on an altogether different man  –  one with dark brown skin and kind eyes, his right arm enveloped in an impressive scorpion tattoo.

–Pleased to meet you, Billy Bishop.  Welcome to your afterlife.

In so saying, the man before him effected a change.  The shadow was already fading; his eyes were now bathed in light.

It was a strange feeling  –  as if, in a flash, he had been pulled back to the world of the living…and been given a new life.





Yet another fine translation job by R. Capowski! This is about the halfway point through the backstories! I should step up the pace, too.

So here we are, reading the epic tale of Billy Bishop being ambushed by a little girl! It’s strange how everyone else’s backstory shows off some special skill of theirs (Sheila’s combat skills, Nicklaus’ wit, etc.), but Billy just languishes in the desert for a while. Maybe his special skill is his tenacity?


Backstory – Sheila Crawford

Posted in Backstory Translation - R. Capowski, Website Translation with tags , , , , , , on March 4, 2012 by Wynyard


God, I’m sorry…
I never thought it would come to this…

Don’t worry. I’m used to it.

Two soldiers lay in a hastily-dug trench deep within the snow-covered mountains. One, the apparent superior officer, lies on his back; the other, his subordinate, performs a blood transfusion… From their equipment, one might surmise them to be French Foreign Legion, but nowhere on their persons did they carry any items that would conclusively identify them as anything beyond some sort of special forces.

Their mission that day had been to surveil a hidden encampment of a radical communist organization on the Italian-Slovenian border. Their patrol strategy, however, had led their unit to divide its forces into several teams. The strategy had backfired; the unit had encountered an ambush and was splintered further.

–If they come back with reinforcements, not even I’m gonna be able to sneak past ’em…

–Well, no time to think about that now…
Concentrate on getting back on your feet!


The commander, it appeared, had a matter even graver than his own wounds weighing on his mind. Something concerning his subordinate, it seemed.

–…You’ll be all right with me here.
After all, I’ve made it this far.

The soldier returns her commander’s gaze, as if to communicate something to him wordlessly. After a period of silence, in seeming resignation, the officer opens his mouth to respond.


As his subordinate requests, he turns his attention back to recovering from his injuries.

–They made me a universal donor…
You never know what type you’ll need on the battlefield, you know!…

At these words, the officer starts to say something, but then stops. Noticing, the soldier thinks back on when they first met…

–That’s right…it’s just like always… I don’t fit in anywhere…do I…



It had been several weeks since she had fled – fled the little box garden that she had been told was the world entire. She wandered aimlessly, without a goal in mind; she knew she had no place to go.

Since birth, her memories had consisted of nothing but one long unbroken cycle of training and battle… She knew what to say, all right, but she’d never so much as bought herself something from a store… She was far from any signs of civilization. There was nothing to do but hide herself in the mountains.

Funny thing, though – covert ops were what she did best. Pretty convenient, when you’re living life on the run.

–Number AG7753 spotted! Reque–uhhh…

Her pursuer’s neck was snapped before the transmission could even reach HQ. She searched his equipment piece by piece for anything useful. And so, this was how she survived for several weeks.

However…it all came to an abrupt end that day.

–What are you doing?

She suddenly heard a voice from behind her. When she turned around, there was a man with a rifle aimed directly at her – a bullpup, state-of-the-art. The man had a beret on his head; from the way he carried himself, he probably was special forces.

–Let me see your hands…move forward.

So the man ordered in a calm, level voice. It was plain from his attitude that he had ample experience on the battlefield.

The soldier had sized up her enemy at a glance. She offered
no resistance. With a nod, she raised her hands and began to
turn around.


After a slight pause, she raised her head.

–…A woman?

When the soldier revealed her face, the man froze in shock. That tiny
moment of doubt was all the opportunity she needed.

The tables turned; in the next moment, the man’s gun had flown
into the air. His arm was twisted back, and there was a knife at
his throat.

–Who – what are you…

–I don’t know!…I wish someone would tell me.

It was a cold day, snow falling from above…just like today.


He told her that if she joined his squad, she’d be able to get a new name and nationality after her term of service… There was no reason for her to hesitate.

Her enlistment, her unique accommodations at the training camp, her assignments – all was conducted in the utmost secrecy, and before she knew it, two years had passed.

–But you haven’t changed a bit since we met! It’s like you’re frozen in time!

–………I was made that way…

That man realized his poor choice of words.

–I’m sorry…

–Don’t worry. I’m used to it.
You gave me a home.
That’s enough to make me happy…


The soldier’s words put the officer at peace. He quietly closed his eyes.

The rescue chopper followed soon after.


In a forest several kilometers from the rescue squad’s rendezvous point…the soldier stood alone.

–You ready, then?

A voice erupted from the wireless as soon as she’d picked it out from its hiding place.

–Looks like you’re the one who’s raring to go. It’s almost as if you knew I’d be coming here today.

–We don’t pry into your business, and you don’t pry into ours – got it? It was better for all parties concerned if you contacted us first.
…Never thought I’d see the day that I’d be meeting a survivor of *that* plan…

–I thought you said no prying…


The man on the communicator continued his briefing.

–Head for the lake as soon as you leave the forest up ahead. There’ll be a helicopter waiting for you.


–But once you set foot on that chopper, there’s no turning back. Say your goodbyes to the outside world…because you’re dead to it from then on.

When she heard the man’s words, she looked up at the sky for a bit. After a small sigh, it seemed she had made her decision.

–Don’t worry. I’ve been dead for a long time…

Upon hearing this, the man on the other end of the communicator gave a deep nod.

–Pleased to meet you, Sheila Crawford.
Welcome to your afterlife.




Thanks to the hard work of R. Capowski, it looks like the backstories are getting translated after all! I’m as excited as a pig in a mudslide!

And aren’t they just lovely? Who knew Sheila had so much depth, hidden away from the game itself… But now they’re here for us English speaking fans to enjoy!

The image in the background looks strange at the moment, but that’s a problem with the theme I’m using. Looks like I’ll have to overhaul the blog to better mimic the website.