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Post by flession on Feb 3, 2010 20:15:51 GMT -5
It had been a rough battle.
The attack had been successful, if success wasn't determined by a body count. There was a body count on out side that was horrific. People were hurt, bodies were floating in the middle of the ocean on both sides, and I almost died.
It was by luck alone that someone managed to drag my sorry ass out of that wreckage of my Guntank before it grew aflame. I swore on that day, on the Lieu, that I wouldn't meet Jane until the bastard who killed her was rotting in hell.
I nearly broke my promise today, so as I leave Jaburo on my transport to Hawaii to pick up my replacement Guntank, I can only ponder on my mistakes of the battle. Look at what I did right and what I could have done better. I had to grow stronger, be stronger for her.
After the accident, she took the burden on herself and fell deeper than anyone could have reached for her. I thought it was depression, something she could snap out of.
Now I am beginning to understand how easy it is to feel the way she would.
So, as I return to New Ansterdam, unsure of the base's existence when I arrive, all I can think about is my dead wife's suffering. Would I end up so consumed by it as she was by something so far beyond our control?
I'll be pondering this on my way to the Arctic.
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Post by flession on Feb 5, 2010 6:07:37 GMT -5
I can feel the cold breeze go against my face as I stare into the bleakness of the Arctic tundra from my chair. I have to wheel myself against the cold wind towards the base.
I know I don't have much time. I didn't even have enough time to get the new Guntank refitted for the Arctic patterns. Could have helped some against the forces, but for now, being here outweighed the advantage I would have had.
Cray Vermillion and Aaron McCaskey are here, at least that's who I recognize. Bunch of other soldiers, pilots, and others who seem to have a grip of the coming fight.
We are to be the counterattack of the group, a surprise attack from land, sea, and air. While they're attacking our base from all sides. Hell, from what they've told me, we're going to be expecting a surprise visit from space as well.
Doesn't look good for us right now, but all I can do is keep fighting and hoping.
Hope that I make it out of this alive. Hope that I live to see tomorrow.
Hope that there is something left to defend when we arrive.
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Post by flession on Feb 6, 2010 5:19:28 GMT -5
I felt the heat from the blast. Then I saw the light.
It's a strange thing to say, knowing full well light travels faster and considering how far away we were from the base. Maybe it was my nerves. Maybe the anger that was welling up the moment my Guntank's tracks and cannon were heavily damaged, leaving me with nothing to defend myself, at the mercy of some stupid Zeon punk who gets a lucky shot in the blindness that myself and my comrades find themselves here. I'm not sure, to be honest. I'll probably ever really know how that was possible. But I know that's what happened: The heat, then the light.
I didn't even get close to the base. No, I couldn't have. Zeon came from the sky, and something else came in and obliterated the entire base. I was too busy focusing on my damaged suit to really notice what it was, but it was something far beyond simple GM's and Tin Cod's.
Heat, then light. I swear I could have felt it, even on my useless legs.
I remember training most of the men at the base, looking at such men grow into soldiers, ready to defend the base with their lives. But the base was so ill defended. So little effort went into defending such a key point. We were too busy focused on other things, other missions, than to keep a base of this importance well defended.
Now, the generals will know what the costs were today. Lives were lost. Men and women who wear the tags of the Earth Federation were snuffed from existence, brought to whatever peace that awaits them too soon. And now, we must wait for the next batch of green soldiers to come forth, from their homes and their families, ready to yet again defend with their lives the safety and promise of the homeland from the facists up above the sky, sitting so pretty and happy above us.
God grew angry at the people who built the Tower of Babel, confusing their language and casting them thru all sides of the world, as it was a testament to man's greatness.
If this journal is one day read in a free society, one not crushed with the oppressive Zabi line controlling us from the heavens, know that Babel will fall, and the remains of the people will be scattered about in all worlds, confused and too frightened to build the mighty tower again.
This experience has really taught me much, as I see the smoke pile from what was once a base I could have considered my home. I really do understand why my wife left me, as the pain and the burden of the loss can be great. I knew most of the men there that are now ash. And that I was so weak and unable to help them, and they paid the price for it. That will remain with me for the rest of my days.
Now the question is, will I succumb to the depression that she did, losing myself to the grief and the pain or can I press thru it, making it my sword and shield?
Only time will tell, but I know one thing for sure: You really can't go home again.
-- Jack Murphy, Sergeant, Earth Federation Ground Forces, October 27th 0079
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