When is the Unthinkable Justifiable?

Images swirl around my unconscious mind, visions of the past and present, all mingled together in a matrix of confusion. Al gives me one last look before he jumps off the train in New Orleans, his eyes cut through me and see me for what I am, so this time I run after him. I hit the ground in a jungle, tracer rounds are whizzing about me as all of the team members from the LAOS deployment run screaming past. I think for a moment it must be raining because I hear thunder until I look back and see what they all were running from. A giant monstrous turkey with fiery red eyes stomps toward me, its footsteps shaking the very earth and I can’t move so I close my eye and wait to be crushed, but then it goes quiet. When I have the courage to look, I’m back in the slaughterhouse. Jimmy Papalia is in bits again at my feet and He is there too. Dressed in black, covered in blood, with that sick fucking mask smiling at me. He sits on the desk letting one of his legs dangle off the edge as he inspects his blade, which is getting bigger and meaner looking. He hops down and speaks in that manic high pitched tone, “Your gonna burn for this Vic, and I’m gonna stoke the fire…” I turn to run out the door only to find myself back in the room with Big Jimmy, but now there are two men in yellow masks, they both throw knives at me, my legs throb as the damn things find the bone, and I stumble back through the door into the first room, but there are three more demons waiting for me. I fall onto my stomach and feel hands all over me, bloody, gloved hands, which roll me over. A dozen masked faces are staring down glowing yellow as the sun, all pointing their gigantic cleavers at me, in unison they speak, but the voices sound like gravestones rubbing together,”There will be blood Vicky-Boy, and its Allll Yoooou’re Fault!” The blades swing down with lightening speed. I awake screaming, there is a distant rumble of thunder which shakes my house.

“Yeah, storms coming alright.”

I hate The Dust, plain and simple. I hate every second that I am here. I hate the constant damn sand storms, I hate being confronted with death and bleached bones no matter what direction I turn, and I hate that the only peace to be had is found in a bottle. Most of all I have come to hate myself… And that is good. I deserve to be where I am.

This is where I need to be. This is the only place I can grow. By forcing myself into the sun I will either wither or take root and become strong, and I have not withered. But strength in this place is a subjective term and survival is more applicable. And I now know what it means to survive more than ever in my life as I am forced to make life and death decisions on a daily if not hourly basis…. Goddammit, there goes the tear down bell. It’s getting harder and harder to put a few lines down without being interrupted with murder, sex, and/or drinking…

We were on the train now, all packed into every available inch like cattle. I was numb with fear and all I knew was that I was safe now so there was no way I was leaving this train car until we were out of NOLA. That made my decision easy when they were calling for anyone with experience with electronics to destroy or recover any JET equipment that was left behind. I saw Al and Bud rush out the door with no hesitation whatsoever. Brave bastards. I should have gone with them. I could have helped. I’m a field surgeon and I know far more about electronics than I ever would let on.

But instead I stayed there in a corner looking out the window as we left them both behind. I was paralyzed with fear. And as I gazed into the burning landscape I saw so many people chasing the train, trying to get on so they could be safe, but instead they were beaten or killed if they got got too close. I saw my friends murdering innocents whose only crime was being late. We all were monsters that night.

Penn State

I arrived to the refugee camp in time to see a rescue team drag Bud and Al’s corpses in and lay them in front of Valerie. When she laid eyes on them I felt a soul rending despair descend upon me. I could feel the weight of my sister’s sadness and it made me feel even worse. Seeing her cry over Al was more than I could bear, when suddenly there was talk of using Hive technology to possibly revive them and they were taken away before anyone could protest.

There was no saving them, it was too late… I was too late.

Sunday

That morning Valerie made me sift through Al and Bud’s belongings. I guess She has some crazy plan in her head because she was very quiet and oddly happy when I gave her Al’s mini-computer. I took a beautiful axe that Al carried, I wouldn’t have it rust away or be stolen. I also took the brother’s ID tags to remind me of the price of cowardice. As I stood over their belongings I finally understood what needed to be done, there was no more time for half measures and softness; no more room for cowardice. I would not let others die because I refused to act. I slashed my palm with the axe and watched the blood drip through my fingers. “No more…. No more… No more…”

I write this from my home in the Empire. I think about my family whom I’ve grown so distant from, I think about Catherine and what she is going to do when I tell her I will be leaving again. I think about the 330,000 refugees now in Penn State, and I think about the 700,000 who never made it out of new Orleans. But mostly I think about the unfinished business I am staying here for. I only have a few more days before I go back to the Dust where I will purify myself and purge my fear. I hope there is enough time to do what I must before I Gate, so I have packed my bags just in case. I have to clear my mind now for the task ahead…

Every breath is a gift. I know this fact now intimately. Every single inhalation that I took for granted now feels as if it were a weight bearing down on me for all I have failed to do. I have wasted so much time…

New Orleans, like many shards, I had never been there. And like every shard I have visited, it deceived me. Except New Orleans turned out to be the two faced whore to end them all. Like all gorgeous women she entrances you with her looks, her eternal night-time mystique, and the magic in the air that was almost tangible. Needless to say I was drunk on her atmosphere and Harry’s Oasis reserve # 1 that first night in the Black Madonna. The women were ethereally beautiful, the food was great and luck actually smiled on me when I showed an Ace to five straight in 7 card stud. But my good time was cut short when I was called back to the Empire to guard a door with Cpt. Andropov. I guess there was something very important concerning Nico, The prince, The Consigliore, and a whole bunch of other Made guys from my shard in there. I am just thankful that the Captain knows so many jokes and stories from his military training otherwise I may have passed out from boredom standing there, but I love My Empire and that is what was asked of me. Thankfully we arrived back to the Madonna in time to witness Rosie and Alice’s amazing stage show, also got to sample some honey -wine from an amazingly hot NOLA native. One of the last things I remember doing that night was talking to Al, we spoke of the possibilities of a new eye for me, be it tech or magic. The last thing he said to me was,”Victor, you have to understand, I recognize you now that you have the patch over your eye and if you keep it that’s fine. But don’t let me dissuade your free will.” As usual I walked away confused and more than a bit frustrated, “Why can’t he just talk straight for once? If he knows me so well in my future (his past) why the hell can’t he tell me what will happen?” If I knew then what I know now, I would have left the next morning.

Goddamn cowardice, even now after its over I still want to run.

I managed to wake up only mildly hung over which is always a miracle and I was functioning in time to be helpful. Turns out Nigel needed my help, and I always will have time for him after what he has done to keep my sister safe and especially after our little trip into Danzig. We were actually heading into my element, good ol’ H20. We me up with a Nordic looking fellow who said I resembled Odin (and whom had one of those amazing Danzig rifles that can operate at full function no matter what the tech or magic level). He mentioned a scourge in the swamps of New Orleans, a menace that shrugged off blades and magic, so I guess we figured to see how an acute case of lead poisoning would suit them. As we scouted the area the “demons” were seen in, their “leviathan” appeared. A Leviathan employed by the Nazi’s of the Was, a U-Boat in the middle of NOLA. The bastard surfaced fast and in about two seconds Nigel and I understood how much shit we were in. As we sat for a moment perplexed at the sudden appearance of the vessel two figures appeared rushing towards its forward gun with ammo boxes, Nigel shouted “Victor, Aft!!!” I understood immediately. If they loaded that .50 cal and we were in its path, nobody was going home. I steered our dingy aft of the vessel at such an angle that allowed The JET members aboard to flank the gunners easily. After several dozen rounds a piece both Uber-Nazi’s went down, but not before showing us that magic was useless, much to DT’s anger (he likes burning people). We managed to get on and into the ship; much fighting later we discovered some startling information. It turns out that this ship had originally disappeared in 1944, pre Event. The captain had sunk 20 American ships in WWII but had gotten lost in the vast Blue. Supplies ran short, then ran out, and of course mutiny followed. The mutiny took roughly 2/3rds of the crew, but at their most dire moment the Flying Dutchman appeared at the head of a fleet and offered a deal. They were obviously transformed into something monstrous; Marie consulted the Loa and confirmed this, as their souls were forever bound to their bodies… Even in death. As we discovered all of this the ship began to sink. We all made for the hatch and just barely got out with the cargo, though Nico and Smiley damn near got pulled to the locker. After I steered us back to the dock’s I made straight for the Railroad Hotel where the Oasis had set up. I didn’t even care about my piece of the 10 Econ that we salvaged, I just wanted to get somewhere safe.

Shameful… that’s all I can think of. The old me is creeping in when I thought I purged it.

Later I managed to do nothing as far as help investigate an esoteric/hiver disturbance. Crazy Dancing Hivers with a liberal dash of cannibalistic ghosts, both of which I cannot deal with. So of course as I feel all useless I get a great idea, drink until I fell useful. I get to the drinking part, but usefulness never comes. I end up talking to some prick from Fort Knox in the P-PoC. He smiles too easily and talks about freedom like it tastes bad in his mouth, then he insults Lance…. I smile as best I can but it gets to the point where I have to excuse myself from the conversation in order to find Lace… So that I might borrow his gun and shoot that Knox diplomat in the face with it. It would only be appropriate. But of course Rosie sidelined me and cooled my jets with a few words, so I went for a walk hoping to pick a fight with some unlucky bastard. I got my wish and then some.

I strolled the musty streets with my bottle of bourbon in hand. My my my, what a beautiful city. After a few miles I decided to go back to the Oasis and that’s when it all went to hell. I heard bells in the distance, and it sounded as if came from my intended destination. So I picked up the pace a bit and noticed others heading in the same direction although some of them moved wrong. “No way.” Was my first thought, “No fucking way.” It was a massing horde of Zombies, all clawing up from their graves. Maybe this is the usual thing for NOLA on a Saturday night? I thought. That vanished as I saw a drunken woman torn apart not 30 yards from me. So I ran. I ran as fast as I possibly could killing every slouching and moaning bastard in my way. I managed to get back to the Oasis but not for long as I was pulled into some children’s story made real. One moment I was in the Railroad hotel the next I was skipping through shards I couldn’t imagine in my wildest fever-dreams only to be plopped into some techno drug den. I think we were in the metaverse. Not really sure what was going on all while I was there as I am pretty sure I lost my mind. All I remember was pouring over documents that only increased my madness the longer I stared at them. It really got bad for awhile. I was quite literally stark raving mad. I begged for it to stop and The Rev. Wolfwood obliged me with a left hook. When I came to there was some monster growing out of the Damocles hub. I remember hearing Dale over the din of the creature, “Hey let’s go to the library!” And we were in a massive library. Though we were only in that library for a second I learned the entire life of the man who’s head it turns out we were trapped in. Turned this guy, Lou Carroll, was a Damocles hub in a round about way. And had we succeeded, he would have died. Wasted away and died. But instead he went on to write a series of books based on a place called Wonderland as well as invent several words.

The next time I blinked we were in Armageddon. Guns pointed at us from every direction, fear and anger and despair on everyone’s face. We were then told to get on the train or take our chances here.

I can’t go on… I must give in to my cowardice one last time. I cannot relive the horrors I saw. The creatures I have come to accept, but it’s what I saw the humans do that will I never forget…

Where do I start? How do I tell this story? Logic would dictate: at the beginning, so thats what I’ll do.

The Mid-west. The Dust Bowl. The P-Poc. The Hopeless Plains.

Its has many names but I have yet to find one that describes how I came to understand it. All I know is that when I arrived I was a different man when I left, some would say I am stronger now; something more than I was… I think that I am far less. I crossed a line that I can never retreat from.

Friday:

I arrived via the Oasis gate a few hours before my sister, but that was all well and good. I figured it would give me the chance to acclimate to my new surroundings and get to know the locals on my terms. It was all happy faces and drinks that night with new people pouring in every fifteen minutes, so I had plenty of time to network with folks that may have need of my “skills”. I met up with all of my fellow Imperials as they arrived and everything was great for awhile. Until I met Angelina Zapatori.

The moment I saw her I knew she was trouble, the kind of trouble that made the old me stand at attention and take notice. I tried to be peaceable with her, tried to be a nice guy, but that only pissed her off, and when I took a sip from my skull and crossbones emblazoned flask she wrenched my arm and dragged me outside of the Oasis main tent. I then got a crash course in why I’m an asshole for drinking from a flask with an air pirate symbol on it, seeing as how her one-and-only was shot down in a fight with them. After about ten minutes of this I got mad, my accent crept into my voice and I yelled a bit. Turns out that is how I win respect from Lt. Zapatori, by standing up to her. Yup, my kind of trouble indeed. This was confirmed after she knocked me out for kissing and telling. I’ll be damned if she don’t hit harder than Prince Carlos.

Speaking of Prick.. I mean Prince Carlos, I made more than a few friends when I told my story about him in the Oasis. After I was knocked out this big bastard that goes by DT hauled me up and put me into a seat near him and gave me a whiskey. Rosie then crept up and said if I told my story about how I bested the Prince I would feel much better. I find that good looking women have valid opinions, as she was definitely right in this matter. I had a small crowd roaring over my tale of kicking the Prince in the testicles and somehow managing to survive the ordeal. As a result, I got myself two jobs as well as the respect of Nico and more than a few Mid-Westerners. Now I work for the Jackeolpe Mercs as a medic for the Oasis. Two paychecks for the price of one story, beat that.

After my new employment was settled I wandered a bit more but found myself talking to some rather unsavory guys who gave off a really bad vibe so I left them to their card game with Lt. Zapatori. Though I warned them not to play with someone from ENY, I never knew how right I would be. Not fifteen minutes later a firefight broke out. Turns out those guys were air pirates and Angelina was none too happy about it at all. Nico got shot but Angelina beat the man who pulled the trigger to death, despite mine, and two others best efforts to save him for questioning.

All I could do was carry Nico to the security tent and hope that he could survive eight damn near point blank shots. I knew he wasn’t going to make it so I did my best to stay strong, now what happened next I will remember until the day I die. This guy Puck came into the tent and asked for some metal so Zero gave up his Dad’s Colt .45. Now I shit you not, Puck turned that gun into one of the most advanced med-kits I have ever seen. He pulled out the bullets and installed a “biodegradable pace maker” in about five minutes. I think Doc Johnston said it best when she proclaimed,”Now all I need is a bone rattle to feel any more useless.”

Now the only other thing that happened before I fell asleep was a very unnerving encounter with Zero, but I don’t think it’s right to talk about that. At least until I figure out the why behind it all.

The next day would changfe me forever, physically and mentally.

Saturday

Lance arranged a supply caravan to bring relief to those who needed it. I guess he does this sort of thing regularly and he needed warm bodies to guard the payload from the violently desperate souls who wanted to have it for themselves. He said that his caravan was a popular target and we should expect resistance, but hopefully not too much as we were well armed and would be a rather intimidating sight to a small band of scavengers. So much for hoping.

We were about an hour deep into our journey when the first shots rang out over the plains. I saw Rom drop low and lay down a bit of cover fire so I assisted. after a few seconds shots were sounding from several directions but we held them off long enough for them to understand that we weren’t going to give up so they retreated. All of us were very happy with this result and we had very few injuries to boot. The trip was blissfully uneventful for another few hours but we were tense all the same. I kept thinking it was just the calm before the storm, sadly I was right. The steel rain poured down immediately from a ridge high on our left so the caravan was redirected to what we thought would be a more advantageous route. Turns out it was a trap and we fell right into it. I was surprised by several men who popped up from clever little hides dug into the sand on our right. Most of them were cut down immediately, but the one with the rocket propelled grenade launcher was wearing some very heavy armor and managed to get off a shot. As I saw him aim I shouted,”RPG!!!!” Thankfully Nick clipped the scavenger just before he fired so his shot went a little wide, but it was enough to disable our main vehicle. All we could do was lay down cover fire for Cody until he could get us moving again. It would be the longest wait of my life.

More and more of the badders kept coming, all of them trying to kill us for the supplies we protected. They were just hungry and I couldn’t rationalize killing them, so I just tried to shout out enemy positions and ranges to the others. I saw that there was a sniper team just out of our range to the right, well out of everyone else’s range at least, so I turned to DT to let him know that we were in deep if they zeroed in on us. As I turned back I felt a blinding pain shoot through my skull like Thor’s hammer knocked me on the head.  As my adrenaline kicked in the pain ebbed a bit but the blindness stayed. The sonuvabitch shot my left eye out. I reached up to see if it was true and another lightning bolt of pain hit me as I accidentally put my finger into the exit wound on my left temple. That is when I understood my mistake, that is when I knew they would kill every last one of us unless we got them first. So I did what needed to be done. I sighted the bastard who took my eye and I returned the favor. I saw a pink mist spray from the back of his head and partially cover his spotter. I cycled another round into the chamber and fixed onto the spotter now. I could see the spotter’s panic as his partner’s last thought dripped down his face.  His head jerked violently backward as the round entered and he laid down like a good boy.

I heard the engine start back up as I was falling down.  As I lay there I saw a lone scavenger trying to flank us so I unloaded my grandfather’s .45 in his direction. The man’s body spasmed in a death dance before he keeled over. That’s when I blacked out. I woke up to feel Nico carrying me into camp only to black out again.

I spent the rest of deployment recovering from my wound and coping with the fact that I took three lives in as many minutes. Occasionally I would get a visit from Doc Johnston or my Sister with the latest news but I honestly can’t remember much at all. Though I do remember the visit Rosie paid me that evening before heading into ENY on business with Nico. And I remember hearing how Nico couldn’t protect her from being stolen by some rival family back home. But that is another story altogether…

I’ve been awake for the past 48 hours. I want to sleep but my mind is racing, there is just too much going on up there for a rest. All I can do is pace through my hallways in hopes of getting tired but the only thing my indoor wandering has accomplished was more than a few unkind words about my “loud lumbering ass” from Catherine, who is on the run from people wishing to do her no small amount of harm, yet she sleeps soundly every night.

I think the prospect of heading into the Mid West has me on edge. More over I know I will have to make some hard decisions in the near future, and possibly be forced to cross a line in my mind that I can never go back from. I just want to help, I don’t want to hurt anybody, but they say that in The Dust a man’s life is worth less than a cup of water.

And there’s another thing, no water to speak of out there in The Dust. No place for me to feel at home and secure under the waves. I’m thinking too much about all of this, I need to keep my goals simple: Make sure Valerie is safe and make sure we both get home alive. There, two simple goals to focus on. Yeah, right, simple.

I’m gonna go bother Catherine again.  Maybe with a little luck she’ll knock me out.

I can barely think…

What with all that has happened in the last few weeks, its hard to concentrate. But what matters is that I am back home, back in the Empire at least for a few days. I guess Manhattan has been holding up just fine in my absence, drinking my booze and lounging in my house. I was glad to see her safe after the trouble she said she was running from, but she may have to lay low at my place for a few months more, which is fine by me.

The strangest thing is that I have been requested to attend the next Joint Expeditionary Team being sent to the Mid West, which is odd because I practically had to beg my way into the Jerusalem JET. I guess they feel that a farm-boy with a steady hand and more than a few illicit skills is a valuable commodity. Time will tell, for now I get to play the waiting game. At least I have Catherine to wile away the next 5 days until I ship out.

It’s been a little bit since LAOS, so I feel it’s easier to talk about it in an after the fact manner.

LAOS was Hell on Earth as far as I am concerned.

So now I finally understand what my Grandfather and Great-granddad were talking about when they spoke of the perpetual nightmare that is War. It is obvious to me now what my path is, as far as the JET cares I am a facilitator, a scout and a punching bag.

For now that’s fine by me.

In Laos I caught a round in my right shoulder, nothing serious though because it went clean through. But before I tended to my wounds I had the honor of carrying out Lance with the General. Though what is important is that I made it out. I honestly thought I would die there but I made it, and in a bit better shape than some.

As for the rest of the day, well a good deal was spent treating my wounds so I was ready to attend the Gala in honor of the Queen of Jerusalem. I attempted archery in a tournament for the first time, which didn’t end as bad as I thought it would as I came in only close to last place. I also attempted another first, combat with sword and dagger, another tournament for the queens pleasure. There was a representative from nearly every shard in the JET, everyone was paired off and the first rounds commenced. My sparring partner was of the Fey, she was beautiful, far more so than the average mortal. I attempted to fight her, but she was far my superior. For every clumsy swipe I took she hit me with the flat of her blade twice, but before I was incapacitated I was forced to yield as she tagged my crotch, the result of which had me unable to stand let alone wield a blade. But it taught me a lesson… Never cross the Fey, even in sport.

For the better part of the next hour, I sat with a large bag of ice perched on my groin. It was at this point that Alice Woodcliffe approached me to see how I was doing, to which I replied,

“Just fine Ms. Rosewood.”

Rosewood? Rosewood!!!! She casually corrected me, but I’ll be damned if the damage wasn’t already done. Rosewood… Goddammit. I must have had that prairie rose in the Oasis on my mind, lo and behold Rosie swooped in with some whiskey so I was able to dull the pain, fine woman that Rosie. While I wallowed in pain/embarrassment, the General approached me and said there was news concerning my sister, she was kidnapped by some group called The Syndicate.

Valerie was able to send the JET a message, damn she’s smart. I did what I could to decipher it which wasn’t much because I was to busy fuming over what I wanted to do to the Sonuvabitch that took her. Consequentially, I wasn’t allowed to partake in her rescue as I may have compromised the mission with my “enthusiasm”. It was more than I could take…

I was near madness, wanting to do something but bound by honor not to betray the chain of command. I talked to ZQ for a bit to decompress. I’d like to call ZQ a friend, he’s from the Mid West and we covered each others back in LAOS when things were at their worst. He was also the fellow I mentioned that told Rom I wasn’t a threat on my first day. He’s a good man and he calmed me down, now I don’t care what anyone in the Empire has to say about those in the Mid West as far as being uneducated because ZQ talked more straight than most of my “friends” back home. As I was finished talking to ZQ the second biggest surprise of the day occurred, Rom talked to Me. He was very brief, but I trusted his words when he said, “Don’t fret, they gonna bring ‘er back.”

And you know what? He was right. They brought her back before I knew it. Nico, Lance, Nigel, a Kensei and more than a few others did their part in bringing Valerie home safe. And they had a prisoner to boot. Some Syndicate bitch that had her face all burned up. I met with the group as they returned to camp and I heard the bitch keep saying, “It don’t matter what you do to me, they’ll do worse.” She stopped abruptly when she saw General Sykes disciplining two members of the JET. “Discipline” here is defined as a gunshot in each arm. Well, long story a bit shorter, Valerie was fine albeit pissed that I wasn’t the one doing the rescuing. Pissed I can deal with because the living can get over anger.

Sunday was a bit of a blur. I sat in a boardroom in ENY and listened to my over-conservative fellows bicker over a damn movie ’bout some chick that gets an abortion…

I wasn’t even there.

It’s like how Jack explains life after a fight in that classic film “Club Fighting”. Everything was just turned down when I was back in the Empire. Somehow less real. I mean you can get shot in the back of the skull by some Government Mafioso but even that was a remote possibility because of the life I lived. I was a farmer’s boy that grew up to run a fishery not some hood that made stupid decisions. But compared to how some people were being forced to live in other shards it seemed almost unreal. I had the choice of remaining in the Empire after the meeting but I couldn’t stay, I was compelled to go back to Jerusalem for a little while longer.  It was a welcome respite from the Empire non-the-less,

But now that I have returned to the Empire things haven’t been the same. It’s hard for me to figure out how I have changed, because now everything seems different. Everyone seems different. If it wasn’t for Manhattan staying here to keep me company when I am in, I think I may have shot something, because you see all of my friends don’t seem to wanna party with me anymore. I used to be the hard working guy who was king of the weekend and maybe wearing the crown a few weeknights. Just partying away with leeches in people’s clothing.

Thankfully I have things to keep me busy until the next Joint Expeditionary Team.

That morning as I woke the memories of the previous night came flooding back in a torrent.

The Mage incident shocked me out of my apathy.. I was ready, but for what?….. I can’t say. All my life I rejected the thought of destiny or some divine creator having a plan or whatever… But that night felt different, like it wasn’t an accident that I found myself here ready to act, and I did. I played my part… But it was odd, the moment I locked onto the Mage’s knees to keep him still, it was like everything else faded away. Then it was over, I have no idea how much time passed, but I suspect that didn’t matter. After that pleasant little interlude the thought of myself leaving was a distant memory, I had to stay for a few days if for no other reason than to see what would happen… And I got my wish because I found out the hard way that a JET is seldom a calm place for a bit of R&R.

As for the rest of the night, I found myself talking to many, MANY, strange people from places I had never thought existed. The most enlightening of these meetings was with a man called Mumeshiro. He helped me a bit I think, or at least the way he talked calmed me. He spoke of Duty, Purpose, and of Honor, and how they may not be apparent at first in a journey, but if you knowingly partake of this strange ride they will reveal themselves in the end, and sometimes these ideals were inside of you at the beginning. And that is the goal, to go great lengths to find what was inside of you all along… The trial by fire that tempers out good qualities. I like Mumeshiro, he has a way of putting things into perspective.

When I woke up Saturday, I guess I was happy. Sitting there eating my breakfast chow wondering what the day would bring. It wasn’t long before I got an answer. there was an alert that General Sykes and his wife were in danger. Something about a gate sending them somewhere bad, and how they needed help equally as bad. There weren’t many volunteers to go and get them so I figured I needed to help. I went to my tent and got all of my brand new gear and my great granddad’s colt, I thought I was one stylish badass. I was a fool.

When we go through the gate we were in a goddamn jungle figuratively and literally. We knew the General and Christi were up ahead but who knows how many NVA or whoever was between us and them. We spread out and started combing the area, always looking for an ambush, damn I was scared. I went high up the hill to our right trying to move forward evenly with the group when I spotted what might be a trail that the enemy used to get into position, luck was with me. As I silently moved along this path with day-dreams of flanking in my head, I heard movement to my right… Great, so this is how it ends.. I turned screamed and fired at…a fucking turkey. So not only had I given away my position I felt like an idiot. I instinctively dove forward and heard the trees around me being peppered with lead, and that is when the fear started to sink in. I tried to fight it, so I kept moving as fast as I could avoiding fire as well, when I came to a bit of a clearing. About 50 yards out I saw the General and Christi, but between me and them was two members of the opposing force. They couldn’t see me but I was right there.

I could have made a break for it and probably gotten to the General, I could have gotten killed too. But my worst fear was of killing the men between us. If I kill them I not only take what they are but everything that they would ever become, and that is what made me feel like a coward. I couldn’t do what was necessary to ensure that the lives of my friends endured. The rest of the conflict was a blur and I acted on instinct alone, but I do remember a few things. We managed to get to our objective, but we were soon pinned down badly though we managed to hold them off long enough for an air strike thanks to the General’s knowledge of the time period’s aircraft and Zero’s ability to speak the local pilot lingo. But the 10 minutes until our steel angels burned the enemy position felt like an eternity. And in that eternity I caught a round in my shoulder and nearly had my head exploded. I remember settling into new cover and looking around for enemy fire, when I looked to the right I saw this man rise up out of the bushes with a gun that reminded me of the one Anthony Montana uses at the end of “Druglord”, specifically because of the grenade launcher attached to it.

I saw him aim right at me so I dove back and I heard the launcher go off with an audible “Poom!”. Just before my back hit the dirt I heard this whistling sound go past my right ear then an explosion about 25 yards to my rear, which pissed me off considerably. At that point I was locked into some kind of primal rage that refused to say “die” as I laid down cover fire for my friends. Now as angry as I was I’m glad to say that I still haven’t killed anyone directly, though I’m pretty sure out of all that escaped that hell storm of artillery fire, more than one will have a limp on my account.

After our angels on high cleared our path to the gate we hauled ass out of there with our wounded. And I have to say at this point that General Sykes has stars on his shoulder for a reason. That man had multiple gunshot wounds but still managed to help me carry Lance back to the gate while laying down cover fire!!! And that scary guy, Rom? He was through the gate carrying Christi before we were halfway there, dude is fast.

In the end we were all fine, or at least they were. Me? I’m not so sure now. Granted I came out of it all alive, I almost killed someone and the scariest part is that I really wanted to, especially that bastard that almost took my head off. After the wounded were attended to I went back to my quarters and sat. I thought about how stupid I was for volunteering for that hell hole we came to know as LAOS, and about how naive I acted with all my fancy gear and black mask, but mostly about how I almost swallowed a grenade. I doubt the healers could have mended that one.

Damn…. I’m rambling here… I’ll finish this story another day.

I finally had the chance to participate in a JET. It was like a dream come true. Only so few are given the honor to represent… well… US. The best of us. And not in some academic definition of the term, not to downplay the geniuses I met like Al and Bud, but to say that those accepted also have some quality in them that the JET is striving to preserve. And I got accepted.

Although, as soon as I arrived in Jerusalem I started to get the feeling that maybe it was who I knew, and not what I knew that landed me there at all. Lets face it, I cut up fish for a living. I’m a glorified dock hand who happens to have a brilliant sister and I live in a mob controlled state. I love it in the Empire and all but I think wheels got greased. I did my best to play it cool, but it was damn hard as I was in the midst of heroes. Quite a few I had heard of before.

I can’t believe I talked to Alice Woodcliffe… And of course what do I do? I manage to get the topic of her previous career before she went main stream brought up. Then I quickly snuffed those flames by mentioning my sister’s health problem. The effect was as if I had sucked the air out of our surroundings. I also was able to embarrass myself further by calling her the wrong name whilst I balanced a bag of ice on my crotch, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

As I was wandering in The Oasis (an amazing joint that I would recommend to anyone by the way) I practically ran into a wall of a man with the word ZERO on his hat who smiled at me like he would rather throttle me than shake my hand when I said I was from the Empire. Seeking shelter away from him I bumped into the table of two men nearby, the scary one stood up immediately. His friend put a hand out and said, “Rom, it’s cool.” Thankfully this “Rom” only stared at me, but its was enough to make my blood run cold, so I made it plain that I would give him space by exiting out of the side of the tent and walking fast . As I ran away from what I thought to be Mid Western hospitality into the collective fire of the JET I looked around and saw Astronauts, Doctors, Corporate Moguls, Officers of all armies, all sorts of crazy dressed Mages, even crazier dressed Hive people, and what I am damn sure is a talking tree. All of them and more in the middle of what felt like the Old Testament. I couldn’t breath…

So I made to go and hide and thats when it hit me, I didn’t belong here. I cut up fish and help get rich people caviar, if the weather doesn’t kill me one of them will. I decided to get a whiskey from Rosie and consider going home in the near future, but soon as I was five feet from the bar a screaming man comes flying out of The Oasis gate, right at me. I did my best to help hold him down as Dr. Johnston tried to dope him. I admit I hesitated, so for my lack of effort I was kicked in the head and got to hear my glasses snap against my face. That sobered me up quick. The one named Zero was directly across from me, and with a wicked glee in his eye he looked at me and said, “You ever done anything like this before Garibaldi?”

Have I ever done this before? “Yeah every Tuesday”, I felt like saying but something told me that Mr. Zero here would let go on his side and let the Mage kick at me some more while he socked me a few himself. So I replied honestly:

“Ive cut up fish before”

“Well I figure thats close enough! Now hold his legs like this!” And he was right, I’ve dealt with 200 pound sturgeon not wanting to cooperate, this was damn near identical. So for a long story a bit less long, they doped the Mage and secured him and I wandered around the camp in a daze until the early hours of the morning. Then I passed out.

I can’t relive the next two days all at once here so please be patient… I need a break before I think about how close I came to death (in all it’s forms) a couple times out there.

It’s still too raw.