The Call of the Battlefield

My month of respite is almost up, yet I feel that my sanity yearns to return to the battlefield. I somehow feel empty without the gore and death that I so bitterly try to avoid. Can it ever be possible that a man can yearn this more than the love of his life? I dare not contemplate this idea. Lexiss has been very tolerant of me and of the nightmares that chase my last hope to die peacefully as an old man. But I feel that she is as well running on empty, struggling with the very last of the demons that call her to leave me. I am afraid that she will but there is nothing in me that wants her to stay. Odd isn't it? I think we are all going crazy with the damn war. There is nothing left to save our own damnation.

My regiment is about to be re-deployed into Jupiter's orbit to fend off the Sorynthian swarm that is consistently battering all the installations there. My troops are very weary of more combat and many have already signed their belongings away. It must reside in them that this will be their last. It could be mine too, but death in the flesh is far less painful than death in the mind. As usual, Gary remains optimistic of the outcome. I sometimes fear this optimism will be his downfall.

Over the last few days, there have been rumours that the Imperator is going to tear down the borders of the Registered Cities and allow the rest of humanity to unite with us. I am not sure if this is such a good idea at all, as principally we are not ready for such a sharp revolution. Rumours are just that though, nothing credible as yet. I choose not to believe anything until it happens. If if happens.

July 28, 3890