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2013-01-31, 03:37 AM | [Ignore Me] #1 | ||
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Two out of Three
"Join the New Conglomerate Militia, so that freedom will never die!" That's what the recruitment poster said. When I went to the militia outpost, the man there talked about the ability to make a difference. He talked about having access to the latest technology, things unavailable to the general populous. Technology so advance that you would never die, and how with this technology, we would rip ourselves free from the cruel, uncaring grip of the Republic. Never die? When he put it like that I thought, "How can you lose a war when you can't die?" What the recruiter failed to mention was that the fabled, amazing technology, was second rate scavenged parts, and that no matter how amazing it was, it didn't stop you from dying. It just made death a less... permanent ending. The nanite technology reconstructs your DNA, and transfers your consciousness to the new body. The scientists claim that your mind will shield you from the last few seconds of death. They say its not possible for the human mind to cope with remembering death. That the memories of it would drive a person insane. Those scientists are full of shit. They haven't had their brains blown out the back of their skull by a high powered sniper round. They haven't bled out under a hail of bullets, or had their body blown in half by shrapnel from a tank shell. They've never died because they paused for just half a second, when you recognized your baby sister who ran off to join the Cult of the Vanu, and she put half a dozen energy bolts into your chest. That one still gives me the shivers just thinking about it. No, the scientists are just like the arm chair Generals, sitting up in the space stations and looking down at holo maps. Constantly judging how much resources they can steal from the rich Auraxian soil, before the engineers are shot in the back of the head to be replaced by the enemy engineers. A constant tug of war, back and forth, with never a hair on their heads getting touched. Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about defecting or just up and quitting. Where would I go? The only way off this rock is by shuttle and then by space ship. I doubt the TR or Vanu would let me leave any more than the NC will. Hell, I've got no where else to go. Once my folks passed on and the farms well dried up, there really wasn't much choice other than join up, or starve on that backwater, terra formed planet. For a ten year commitment, the NC promised three square meals a day, and the technology to kill as many dictator's lackeys and crazy heretics as you can manage. They promised we would never die. Well, I reckon two out of three ain't bad. |
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fan fiction, new conglomerate, recruitment, story |
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