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Soldat de La Legion Etrangere
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Soldat de La Legion Etrangere |
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paraboxer Member
since 2002-11-10
Posts 121Maryland, USA |
“Je Veux M’engager a la Legion Etrangere” Author’s note: The title of this piece is called Soldat De La Legion Etrangere (Soldier of the Foreign Legion) and follows the journey of one man, Charles Armand Valijean. The title of this chapter means “I want to volunteer for the Foreign Legion.” And only non-legionnaires call the Legion the Colonial Legion, the men serving her call her, “La Legion Etrangere.” ~ ~ ~ ~ 29 October 2138: The man walked down the Paris street in the fall. The day was still fairly warm, with the occasional balmy breeze indicating winter’s slow advance. The sky was cloudy and dreary, unusually so, reminding the lone wanderer of his home across the Channel in London, England. He was an ordinary looking fellow about twenty years old, with short black hair, black eyes, and the lean physique of a boxer. The look on his face was a neutral expression, showing no emotion, neither happy nor sad, like a soul condemned to Limbo of Dante’s Inferno. Internally was another matter, he was very deep in his own emotional Inferno, and had been for over a month. His eyes betrayed him, they contained a grief that scarred him deep inside his own body. His name was Charles Armand Valijean, born of a British father and a French mother. He grinned ironically, despite his inner sadness. He had his father’s calm façade and cool British intellect and his mother’s French romanticism, an ironic combination that proceeded to lead him into Paris. “Actually, I am three quarters French.” Valijean said to no one in particular as he hugged his gray light jacket closer to his frame. His father was half French on his own father’s side. Ironically the colonel was more British than the average Englishman despite his French last name. He walked until he reached an imposing compound whose Spartan nature was unmistakable. The wooden gate was guarded by a solitary man in an olive drab uniform wearing atop his head a white kepi with a black brim and carrying his pulse rifle at order arms until the approach of the traveler at which the guard raised his rifle to the position of port arms, holding the rifle at forty-five degrees across his chest, ready to use it. He handed the man a written note with the following written upon it: “Je Veux M’engager a la Legion Etrangere.” It simply meant, I want to join the Foreign Legion. The guard executed an about turn and slid the note through a slit in the wooden gate to the watchman on the other side. The guard turned to face Valijean and regarded him with simply a stern and unchanging expression. Valijean studied the compound, fenced in by a high ten meter stone wall topped with concrete. Embedded in the concrete were shards of sharpened glass and atop the glass were spools of concertina wire. The compound was a forbidding place whose martial façade seemed out of place in the France’s renowned City of Light and Love. To Valijean it didn’t matter one bit, his heart may have been pulsing like a machine about to explode, but whatever the Legion did to him, it couldn’t be any worse than what he had been enduring over the past month. The Colonial Legion, the futuristic descendant of the old French Foreign Legion, an elite corps of soldiers loyal only to one another. Only now instead of serving the nation of France, the Legion now served Earth’s more distant outposts and colonies, protecting them from pirates, smugglers and invaders. Now she was currently facing down a crisis in the colonies which coined a word striking fear into the hearts of all in the areas controlled by the United Systems of Earth. The word was Biohazard. Victims of this virus first started to lose consciousness and at the end of a high fever and comatose state they became little more than savage monsters with only the most base desire, to consume the flesh of their fellow man. What could posses any sane man to even contemplate such an endeavor, to join a unit historians have called at times ‘The Legion of the Damned’? For Valijean it was the pain of a broken heart. This was the only thing left to him, to join a devil may care infantry unit and stare death right in the eye and spit in its face. Love was denied him and though he tried to appear happy for his beloved, he was truly miserable inside and simply felt he had no other choice. By nature a loner with few friends, he reached out for love, and failed to achieve it. ‘Whoever made up the saying: ‘It is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all’ is a ******* liar.’ Vaijean thought as he reflected on a moment one month ago that put him down this path. Whenever he thought of her, it would bring a mixture of sadness and happiness into his heart. ~ ~ ~ ~ 19 September 2138: The dorm room at the university was neat and tidy in a feminine way, like its owner. Valijean grinned happily at the young woman sitting next to him. She was about nineteen years old, with short light brown hair and eyes. She had that sweet, kindly smile that could melt anyone’s heart, Valijean’s included. He had known her since they’d started their freshman year at the university last year. Her name was Diane Schonke, an American student who hailed from Indiana who was studying quantitative economics at the school. They had become good friends over the past year, when they had the same English class. And now he was helping her with some homework for her physics class. He had been happy since last December that he had fallen in love with such a sweet and wonderful woman. It was this night he was planning on asking her if she had any plans for that Friday night. The moment seemed perfect to do just that. The pair sat close together at her desk as they traded both intellectual knowledge and the light hearted banter inherent to two good friends. She had just laughed lightly at one of his witty remarks. After she’d calmed down she asked, “Charles, have you ever met Christopher Osborne, my boyfriend?” “No I haven’t.” Valijean replied, with as much calm as he could muster. After they finished talking, he walked out into the cold rainy night which silent tears mingled with the night rain. The look on his face was that of a deposed monarch before a jeering crowd moments before his execution. His face bore the sad expression expressing the pain only the chronically lonely could know as he walked aimlessly about campus until two o’clock in the morning, where he had fallen asleep in the library. Why? Why had he fallen for such a sweet, intelligent, caring and beautiful woman only to never know her love? He didn’t have anywhere left to go if he quit school, so he knew he had to stick it out, pretend nothing was wrong, and accept things as they were. ~ ~ ~ ~ Valijean’s reverie was interrupted as he was lead into the compound and into the office of a man wearing the sand brown dress uniform and black kepi of an officer of the Colonial Legion. “Are you sure you want to do this?” the officer asked. “Oui mon capitaine.” Valijean replied, for he had been instructed at least half a dozen times that this was the proper way to reply in the affirmative to any questions by an officer of this rank since he had walked into the building fifteen minutes ago. Valijean hesitated only a moment, then he remembered that painful night of his reverie where his heart had been broken. Escape. Even if it was to five years of hardship that he probably wouldn’t survive, he knew what exactly he had to do. ~ ~ ~ ~ 20 October 2138: As Valijean walked out of the pub where he had gone to drown his sorrows in good food and a couple beers he saw Diane and what had to be Chris walking his way. Valijean was about to turn and walk down another street when Diane spotted him and beamed her intoxicatingly sweet smile and motioned him over. “Charles, this is Chris.” Diane said. Chris, also an American said, “Hey, pleased to meet you. Diane was talking about you a lot over the summer.” “That’s nice to know.” Valijean replied, with a forced grin that seemed real. He had been good at pulling that off over the past month, whenever Diane would talk about her love. Already he ascertained that they met over the summer between their freshman and sophomore years, he went to visit her at home, and in August they started dating. “Yeah, she was talking about this wisecracking yet earnestly sweet English guy in two of her classes last year. I never thought I’d meet him.” Chris replied. “Well you have.” Valijean replied, “Well, I’ve got to get going now. I’ve got to pick up my brother from his Winter Formal. Enjoy the rest of your evening, it was nice to meet you mate.” “Same here.” Chris replied. “Hey Charles,” Diane said, “How’d your fight in the gym go this weekend?” “It went well. I beat that snotty Dartmouth bloke in the fourth round.” Valijean replied proudly. He was an amateur boxer with the gymnasium outside of the campus and was one of their better lightweights. “Congratulations. I’ll see you Monday.” Diane replied. Valijean walked aimlessly about London, not sure where exactly he was going. He didn’t have to pick Michael up from the Winter Formal for another half hour, but he couldn’t go and bother them. Diane looked like she was so happy, so content. And even if his own heart was hurt, he had long ago resolved he’d give his happiness away for her to be happy. His pain didn’t matter one bit, for as long as his best friend, Diane, was happy with her love, that’s all he wanted. He didn’t hear the next part of the lovers’ conversation, “I thought you said Charles didn’t drink?” Chris asked. “He doesn’t.” Diane replied, “He has been acting pretty strange lately. He’s been moody, not caring whether he misses class or not, and been spending an awful lot of time alone. It’s starting to worry me. He’s not usually like that.” “You’re his best friend, you should ask him what’s wrong.” Chris replied. “I have and he’s just saying he’s stressed out with all these new courses we’ve been taking. I’m not buying it though, something’s definitely wrong with him.” He walked under a lamp post and noticed a sign underneath it. It had a picture of a man in a sand brown uniform, carrying a rifle and assorted military gear with a white kepi atop his head as he charged towards some unknown foe. On the poster in big red letters were inscribed the words Legio Patria Nostra (The Legion is Our Fatherland). This was the solution Charles Armand Valijean needed. This was where he belonged, he needed to escape and quickly. ~ ~ ~ ~ 28 October 2138: “Charles are you out of your mind? The Colonial Legion?” Diane asked. “Diane, all these horrible stories I’ve been hearing from the colonies, especially from my uncle on Salamis, are too much to ignore.” Valijean replied, “Stories of cannibal murders, of people afraid to wander outside after dusk, of whole towns being suddenly isolated. It’s too much to ignore.” “Why do you have to get involved?” Diane asked, half protesting. “It’s like I said in civics yesterday. A citizen accepts responsibility for the body politic and defends it with his life. I couldn’t give a damn about the body politic, its more personal. I’m doing this for my family and friends. I’m willing to put myself between whatever’s ravaging the colonies and you guys.” Valijean replied, this was another reason he chose to join up, but he couldn’t bear to tell Diane that his primary reason was because he loved her and she loved Chris instead. Diane looked at him with a pleading look that transformed into a sad half-smile of acceptance, “Alright, if you think you have to. But take care of yourself out there.” “I will.” Valijean replied, folding her into his arms. As Diane looked at him, she fervently prayed that this wasn’t going to be the last time her best male friend was to be seen alive. “Keep in touch?” Diane asked. “I will.” Valijean replied. It was only when he had walked around the corner that he let the tears flow. ~ ~ ~ ~ 29 October 2138: Valijean’s hand swiped his signature across the dotted line as he placed his body into the hands of the Legion Etrangere and his soul into the hands of God. He hoped that God was the benevolent soul Sunday school teachers said he was as he waited the requisite forty-eight hours before he was to begin training with the Legion. ~ ~ ~ ~ AN: I promise to get into the action adventure part. This is largely to introduce what motivates Valijean into the Legion Etrangere and give some of the principal characters some introduction (don’t worry, they’ll develop more as the story continues). This was all I had time to write today. The civic duty speech is from Starship Troopers. More chapters at this URL: http://www.fictionpress.com/~soulreaver |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
A good start to a story here. It really has some promise for character growth and realization of truths he doesn't yet understand. There's obviously quite a long ways this can go and a lot that can be experienced. My one and only gripe with this story, seeing as you do accept criticism is that the writing tends to hand everything to the readers. Such as all the French. I understand translating some of it, but sometimes a little mystery is good and it can often just be assumed from what's going on, such as figuring out what the "Soldat de la Legion estrangere" is by the posters and such that are mentioned. This goes beyond the French used, quite a few things are just given when they could be slowly worked in. That may be just me, but I give it to you as an honest thought. Overall I really liked this piece and the way it's moving. I'd like to see more character development, more motivation and more writing. Quite enjoyed. "Knowledge is far superior to Belief, for Belief is the way of the uniformed." - Scott Cunningham |
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