2010-11-27

acts_of_gord: (tired)
2010-11-27 02:26 pm

The Edge of Hope

Dear Eleanor-

Tomorrow we're going to be making a strike at the Combine installations in Fort Collins. It's far from the most heavily fortified location I've ever seen, but it's still battle. I know better by now than to think my luck is guaranteed.

The people who're going to be following me tomorrow think I'm a hero. Some of them probably think I'm the Messiah. I hate that I have to go on letting them think that, but I remember Black Mesa. When you run out of everything else to keep you moving forward, sometimes the only thing that can move you is hope. I'm not going to take that away from them. I think we have a fair chance of securing our objectives tomorrow if we move quickly and strike hard enough, but Manuel's pictures have me worried about just how much resistance we're going to encounter. We're going to need the edge of hope to catch the Combine off guard enough to snatch what we need and get back alive.

That's the important part, really. Hitting the Combine hard doesn't matter if we don't get out of this alive. There used to be a time when generals could throw soldiers at objectives and call it a victory if they came out of it with a couple of men left standing, so long as they secured what they needed. I'm not saying it was right, but- well, they used to do that. We can't. I can't. We need to capture those Combine Scanners if we're going to have even a ghost of a chance of killing the geneworms. There's not going to be a future if we don't.

But even with the Field down, there's not enough of us left. It'll be another sixteen years before the next generation is capable of picking up and carrying on. Every single person who dies following me tomorrow is a person who won't be able to keep up the fight. Anyone I lose, that's another hit to the chance of humanity making through those next sixteen years. I have to keep them all alive as far as I can. I have to give them every edge possible. I know commanders before the Combine would probably say I have to look at the big picture but that is the big picture. There's so few of us here that every single one of us matters now more than we ever did before.

And that includes you. It's always included you. I don't think I ever told you, but when Black Mesa happened-

I've been staring at the paper for a good ten minutes now trying to figure out how to write this next part. I'm not good with words.

I can't say I made it out of Black Mesa because I didn't want to die, because that's not true. There was a point- I'll tell you about it later, in person, if I can- there was a point when I knew I was going to die. I was sure I was going to die before I ever saw the sky again. All I wanted then was a death I could be proud of. I lived anyway, and I didn't know what to do after that but keep going. I made it through Xen somehow, and I still don't know how that happened, just that it did. When I got dropped in the Milliways borderworld after the Nihilanth died I honestly didn't know why I was still alive, or what kept me moving. But there was someone... he told me that after everything like that happened, I had to find something to live for. Something that really would keep me moving. Even if it was something small, just as long as it was something. I remembered your picture in my locker at Black Mesa when he told me that. I didn't know if the resonance cascade had hit Seattle yet, or what might've happened to you. I just thought that maybe you were out there, and maybe you were okay. Maybe I could at least find out, if I kept going. maybe I could fix the mess I'd made, for your sake.

So there it is. You kept me going. I have other things to fight for now but you're what I learned the importance of the edge of hope from.

I don't have any way of getting this to you before the battle. I'm hoping I can deliver this to you in person. We'll see.

Wish me luck tomorrow anyway.

Your uncle,
Gordon.