To Become a Marine

[Karo Veras 0]

The quarantined areas had turned the Agincourt into a veritable labyrinth. The journey from NNC back to the quartermasters office took much longer than it would have on a normal day. Everywhere Veras looked, he saw the signs of battle. Whether it be the dead Soltan bodies being tended to by the various cleanup teams, or the looks of guarded relief from a passer-by.

 

War. . .It was no longer a story in the news for Veras. It was right in front of him. The evidence was on the walls, on the faces of everyone he saw. It was the real side of war, the one not told in the local broadcast, or even in the legends of wars past. During basic, his class was chock full of guys looking for glory, looking to be the "hero". The looks in their eyes and ignorance of their minds caused Veras to pray to the Prophets for their souls, for if they didn't shape up prior to shipping out, their tenure as Marines was going to be a short one if they ended up in a forward area.

 

Veras learned at a young age that being a Marine was not about being an individual, it was about being part of a unit. When one Marine did something heroic, it was the Corps that did something heroic. No, Veras was not here for glory, he was here because it was his calling, military service was in his blood. His grandparents and parents both were part of the Resistance. His parents then served in the Bajoran militia during the Dominion War. His eldest brother and sister had been in the Corps since the onset of the Soltan conflict, and now it was his turn to serve in a time of war.

 

Veras managed to make his way to the quartermasters office, signed out his gear, and made his way back down towards NNC. His return path took him past the Marine quarters. In front of some of the doors lied tiny memorials: flowers, cards, religious artifacts, items of sentimental value, and even some which expressed some inside joke that Veras would probably never understand. The weight of the situation slowly began to settle in. Each small, crude memorial caused Veras to take pause, as each one represented a Brother.. A Brother that he would never meet, a Brother that he was potentially replacing, a Brother whose legacy as a Marine was now Veras' responsibility to carry on.

 

He suddenly remembered the words of First Sergeant Taber, his weapons and tactics instructor, from his speech on graduation day.

 

"Your training as a Marine does not end here." He told the class. "It will continue on until you retire. It will continue on until you die."

 

It didn't take long for that statement to hold true, as the hallway served as a living reminder. What lesson was to be taken from this particular moment, Veras was not entirely sure. But it would come to him. Maybe in the heat of battle, or the calm of an off-duty card game. Maybe it would come in the arms of his mother as he returned to Bajor on shore leave, or the arms of a complete stranger as he handed the effects of one of his Brothers to their family. Or maybe in the arms of one of his Brothers as they held his near lifeless body and stared into eyes, telling him, without words, that he -will- live forever, through his Brothers, and through the Corps. There was no way for him to know.

 

As Veras reached the edge of the hallway, he turned and saluted, etching each one of those makeshift memorials deep within his memory before making his way back into NNC.