<USS Banshee> Eyes Part 1

From: LtJvanDnalls@xxxxxxx
To: ussbanshee@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Date: Thu, 19 Sep 2002 16:03:52 EDT
    The blurry image slowly came into focus.  Martin Lobell lie on his 
stomach, his empty eyes stared into nothing, yet right they faced me.  I 
could see the man that I knew for the past 3 years, who I went threw 
countless dangerous missions with, but, I couldn't see him at all.  His body 
was there, but the life within was gone.  It was torn from him at the age of 
twenty four.  Twenty four… that's it... now he was gone.  His mother was so 
proud of him, the first member of their family to make it into the elite of 
the elite, a Marine Tactical Squad.  Now his lifeless body was displayed for 
all to see, such a disgraceful way for a warrior to die.  Hell, a disgrace 
for anything to die, at the hands of those Cardassian bastards.  

    He knew the risks, they all did, and he came along willingly, but it was 
still wrong.  Where was their compassion?  Where were their souls?  Soul, 
yeah, right....a reptile scumbag with a soul, that will be the day.  I don't 
want t look into those dead eyes anymore, but in the same token, I can't turn 
away, to do so would be an even bigger disgrace.  J'van D'nalls was going to 
remember these eyes until the last second of his life, and he knew it.  

    After all, it was my miscalculations that did this.  It was me, all me.  
We walked into an ambush, we could have had an entire regiment with us and we 
would have been doomed.  Those bastards knew we were coming, and they could 
have captured us.  They could have had mercy, and taken prisoners after the 
fire fight.  No, they killed ever last man, save one, J'van D'nalls… who was 
most assuredly next on their list.  It wasn't even going to be a merciful 
fast death either.  It was going to take hours, maybe even days.  He already 
had more broken bones and other wounds then he could count, and that was just 
tease for what lay in wait.  He knew damned well that within a the time it 
took for a day pass back on earth, he would go from a somewhat damaged 
warrior to a sniveling, broken pile of flesh begging to be killed.  
No mater how much he tried to think of the good times, he could only stare 
into deaths face and go over his own death in his mind.  It was as if it was 
a Shakespearian tragedy, already written and he was just a spectator.  He 
watched as they used chemicals to burn away portions of his flesh.  They used 
crude steel instruments to cut, snap, crush, rip, and tear away more and more 
of him.  He watched as he screamed in pain immeasurable.  He watched as his 
own lifeblood sprayed over the snakes, as they smiled, his crimson life 
flowed freely over their hardened skin.  They laughed as his cries grew 
louder and more panicked.  They made jokes as his breath shortened and became 
more erratic.  The sick bastards crushed his fingers, one by one as they 
noted how easily their pliers compressed the bone into bloody splintered 
pulp.
<USS Banshee> Eyes Part 1

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