01-05-2018, 05:29 PM
Jacques let out a tired laugh at the question of what his greatest needs were. That list was far too long, and prioritizing any one thing over all the others was a delicate affair. He was fighting a war with an army of faceless enemies, both corporeal and conceptual. Famine, disease, economic collapse, social strife, and a half dozen armed conflicts across as many fronts.
He would never have made it as far as he had if it weren't for the people that for some reason or another had flocked to his banner. His Legionnaires were the best he could ask for; not simply for their military professionalism. They were all good men, and too few women, driven towards a cause so many in Africa saw as impossible to reach. Not simply Africa, the world at large, which had long since turned its back on the strife and horrors of that forsaken place.
And the army of volunteers that had answered the call; he had trauma surgeons from a dozen foreign nations. Teachers, both young and eager and the retired and experienced. Just that morning, he had gotten off the phone with a trio of industrial plumbers that had folded a floundering starter-company in Boston and brought their expertise, and their families, to Algeria on the promise of a challenging and rewarding job that paid...very little, compared to what they could have been making back home.
Just what did he want? A clear conscience, for one. To be able to sleep in a bed at night, stomach full and a glass of clean water on his bed-side table, and not know that a mere glance out a window would reveal a world in which such simple things were so far out of reach for so many.
"When a child can go to school rather then have to sell firewood, or their bodies, to support their family. When a father can tend his crops and earn a living wage to send his child to school. When a mother can walk the streets without fear of reprisal for daring to show her face, when she can work and seek out an education."
The thought of what so many had been willing to give up on the promise of a chance 'to do the right thing' brought an honest smile that burned away that tired laugh. There was hope yet, after all.
A chuckle then, and he looked to Ascendancy with a shrug, "A day when soldiers aren't needed anymore."
It was a distant future; but it could be reached one day, he thought. A light to cast back the darkness of hatred and distrust. "Africa is a rich continent. But every day, more is lost to the deserts and waves. Extremists are tearing apart the north east. In-fighting and corruption has prevented a dozen countries from unifying to stop them. The same corruption and in-fighting that created the fertile soil Al Janyar sprung from."
"Edward Bulwer-Lytton once wrote a well-known phrase, that the pen is mightier than the sword. Most, however, are unaware of the full quote. Beneath the rule of men entirely great, The pen is mightier than the sword. Sadly, there are few such leaders in Africa, and until there are, I fear that I must continue with the sword, to open the way for such leaders to rise."
"My men need strike fighters, attack helicopters, surveillance and strike drones. Powered armours, vehicles, ammunition. But I am not in the CCD to ask for such things. Sierra Leone needs experienced factory and mine foremen, teachers, doctors, vaccines. Guinea needs...everything. It has been without a government for decades, ruled by warlords. The damage there is deep-routed in the people and the infrastructure. Liberia needs lawmakers and leaders. Mali and Burkina Faso? Skilled conversationalists. Much of those regions have already been lost to the desert, and I fear it is far too late to recover there."
"What do you call them in the CCD? Channelers, yes? Some are killed in the streets by their own families or neighbors. Feared as witches and warlocks. Others are used by warlords and criminals. Some few are becoming warlords themselves. I've only one in the Legion. He is a good man, perhaps too willing to use his gifts in war. Something I've yet to require of him, but he would if I asked, I fear. That is a gift that can benefit many."
He indicated his prosthetic hand, the stump of which had been Healed by his man in question. "A few have answered the call in Africa and come forward, but I've no one who can teach them. They do what they can, each seems to have learned different abilities, and some can teach each other a little."
He would never have made it as far as he had if it weren't for the people that for some reason or another had flocked to his banner. His Legionnaires were the best he could ask for; not simply for their military professionalism. They were all good men, and too few women, driven towards a cause so many in Africa saw as impossible to reach. Not simply Africa, the world at large, which had long since turned its back on the strife and horrors of that forsaken place.
And the army of volunteers that had answered the call; he had trauma surgeons from a dozen foreign nations. Teachers, both young and eager and the retired and experienced. Just that morning, he had gotten off the phone with a trio of industrial plumbers that had folded a floundering starter-company in Boston and brought their expertise, and their families, to Algeria on the promise of a challenging and rewarding job that paid...very little, compared to what they could have been making back home.
Just what did he want? A clear conscience, for one. To be able to sleep in a bed at night, stomach full and a glass of clean water on his bed-side table, and not know that a mere glance out a window would reveal a world in which such simple things were so far out of reach for so many.
"When a child can go to school rather then have to sell firewood, or their bodies, to support their family. When a father can tend his crops and earn a living wage to send his child to school. When a mother can walk the streets without fear of reprisal for daring to show her face, when she can work and seek out an education."
The thought of what so many had been willing to give up on the promise of a chance 'to do the right thing' brought an honest smile that burned away that tired laugh. There was hope yet, after all.
A chuckle then, and he looked to Ascendancy with a shrug, "A day when soldiers aren't needed anymore."
It was a distant future; but it could be reached one day, he thought. A light to cast back the darkness of hatred and distrust. "Africa is a rich continent. But every day, more is lost to the deserts and waves. Extremists are tearing apart the north east. In-fighting and corruption has prevented a dozen countries from unifying to stop them. The same corruption and in-fighting that created the fertile soil Al Janyar sprung from."
"Edward Bulwer-Lytton once wrote a well-known phrase, that the pen is mightier than the sword. Most, however, are unaware of the full quote. Beneath the rule of men entirely great, The pen is mightier than the sword. Sadly, there are few such leaders in Africa, and until there are, I fear that I must continue with the sword, to open the way for such leaders to rise."
"My men need strike fighters, attack helicopters, surveillance and strike drones. Powered armours, vehicles, ammunition. But I am not in the CCD to ask for such things. Sierra Leone needs experienced factory and mine foremen, teachers, doctors, vaccines. Guinea needs...everything. It has been without a government for decades, ruled by warlords. The damage there is deep-routed in the people and the infrastructure. Liberia needs lawmakers and leaders. Mali and Burkina Faso? Skilled conversationalists. Much of those regions have already been lost to the desert, and I fear it is far too late to recover there."
"What do you call them in the CCD? Channelers, yes? Some are killed in the streets by their own families or neighbors. Feared as witches and warlocks. Others are used by warlords and criminals. Some few are becoming warlords themselves. I've only one in the Legion. He is a good man, perhaps too willing to use his gifts in war. Something I've yet to require of him, but he would if I asked, I fear. That is a gift that can benefit many."
He indicated his prosthetic hand, the stump of which had been Healed by his man in question. "A few have answered the call in Africa and come forward, but I've no one who can teach them. They do what they can, each seems to have learned different abilities, and some can teach each other a little."