The Voice!

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Sawblade
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The Voice!

Post by Sawblade » Wed May 15, 2013 8:11 pm

"I am the Great Over-Dark.
I have preyed upon things long forgotten; in places best not remembered;
in ways I cannot hint at without leering in glee at your revulsion.
Multi-Limbed horrors from children's under-bed dreams have been a staple part of my reality
and yet I stand today.
Deep frozen forlorn adventurers in far-off northern gold rush by-ways have been my comrades
And in death my sustenance.
I have swum small-ly in rivers of blood in wars merely hinted at in your history.
On battlefield I have slain enemy unceasingly and when supply of conflicting targets grew thin
I have turned ravenously on my own.
Fear me NOT.
For if I am vile in my action I am far more duplicitous in my nature.
If I build a thing it is merely to know how to destroy a thing like it through familiarity with its parts.
If I become endeared to any it is because they have a use to me.
If I have mercy it is because I expect to have need of some myself in the future.
If I am not 'THE' Over-Dark I am part of it.
I do not bleed without cost.
I do not rage without fruit or fulfillment.
I am barely hindered, if ever, in my pursuits.
I embody the mad plotted rush at the end of overcoming in every hunt.
I do not have faith that purity will ever sway me.
I do not expect to ever meet a savior.
If I learn anything from my past I expect it to forever be:
that which protected my predations vs. anything enlightening ."
The first time I 'heard' those words I was alone in a recovery room on a hospital ship slipping in and out of consciousness.
I've been in the Corps all of my adult life in one form or another. It's only now that I'm worrying I'm getting the '1000 yard gaze'.
I didn't hear 'the words' again until I fell asleep on the drop to my next Op. We're not a standard platoon. We're forward air controllers.
We go down and are the eyes on the ground for Air Support. /ALL/ Marines *can* do this we just specialize in it. I'm supposedly the leader of this little band of miscreants. Our main goal is to survive long enough for the 'fly boys' to lay in the heavy fire then live long enough to get extracted.
Lately we've been hunting a different kind of Xeno. Smart like ants, ugly like spiders, persistent like a bad infection. Our job has been to go in and locate the nest, live long enough to mark it with a coherent radio wave pulse transponder, wait for the 'go fasts' to /smoosh/ it, then we bail as fast as we are able.
The voice has got me thinking ... where do /I/ actually fit in /all this/.
I'm beginning to see myself as an axe. An axe that cuts down forests. I guess what I'm asking is:
Is an axe still an axe if it's mounted over the fireplace?
I've answered this with words from my heart:

I was a soldier once, fast, strong, young, and smart. I stood with the deadly and was counted dangerous
amongst them. I have fought on foreign soil for things that did not own my heart and have plumbed the
depths of my soul for it's last ounce of true loyalty. I have known the loneliness of a night vigil at a distant
post and the joy of a dawn victory surrounded by hard won friends. I have defended the weak and the sacred.
I have known justice as a craftsman knows a well worn tool but too I have represented iniquity.
I cry now. Time and distance and the violence of battle has removed my health, my sanity, and the comrades I held dear.
I have never feared death, for I do not believe it to be an end except to mortal pain, and I do not fear it now.
I fear being useless. If nothing else I ask for a warm soft spot from which to tell stories to the coming generations,
so they too might one day stand, knowing they once shined in the sun and their deeds might not be forgotten.

To sum up: An Axe will ALWAYS be an AXE and a Marine will ALWAYS be a MARINE.
Well ... it's time to go flatten a hive. Stay Frosty.
-Master Gunnery Sergeant Edward 'Dead Ahead Ed' Mersem
-We already had breakfast ... AND IT TASTED LIKE THE ENEMY!
-If we're the backbone I pity those we step on!

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