Title: Oasis - Ch. 2/??
Character: Major Edward Beck
Prompt: Table 7, #94 - Beginning
Rating: PG-13 - for using the F-word a couple of times...
Warnings : Well, considering the show has been off the air for over a year, pretty much the entire series may be spoiled in these chapters. Sorry!
Word count: 714 (according to OpenOffice)
Summary: And so it begins...
Disclaimer/Claimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Jericho or CBS or any of the other PTB in relation to the show. No infringement is intended. I'm just taking the characters out to play, and will do my best to show them a very, VERY good time. ;)
February 26, 2007
Another damned town; another damned armed conflict. All the same old righteous anger and justifications that I've seen before - and that I'm sure you've seen before, there in the east.
I don't know why I'm writing this letter, but I...need to write - to you, to Georgette, to Abbey, to Mom and Dad, to Dulcie.
I don't know where any of you are.
Are you dead? Are you alive? Do you know the fate of our parents and our sister? You were all east of the Mississippi.
I'm assuming Dulcie died in the bomb that destroyed Washington, although I can't help hoping she was out of town, chasing a story somewhere else. (A political correspondent out of Washington when the President called a special session of Congress?)
I hope Mom and Dad had already left Philadelphia, but hadn't yet reached Miami. I hope they stopped in Savannah and that's where they've stayed, with Dad directing the survival efforts and Mom - well, doing what Mom does best: keeping calm in a crisis and coming up with solutions. Keeping Dad grounded and...human.
And you, Jeff?
I hope you were in New York, on leave, like you had planned. Because that would mean you're alive and probably running the entire damned eastern seaboard by now. You never liked taking orders although you always loved giving them. Which is why you're a colonel and I'm not.
What's it like there? In the east? News and details are sparse - or sparsely given by the ASA and Jennings and Rall. Communication across the Mississippi is difficult at best - impossible at worst. Travel virtually non-existent now that all the bridges across the Mississippi have been destroyed. I was told they were destroyed to prevent the spread of the Hudson River Virus, or destroyed by the east to prevent western refugees from heading there - or by the west for the same reason. Probably each bridge had its own reason.
Hell, even this little pissant town had a reason to blow up its bridge - to prevent invasion by our old friends, Ravenwood. Protecting itself - and yet destroying the bridge would have meant damaging the town, perhaps irreparably.
Much like the country itself.
I don't have the full picture of this town yet, this...Jericho, Kansas, but you know me, Jeff. I'll get it. Eventually. Not directly, perhaps, but my men will become part of this town. And stories will be told.
And I will do what I do best; take control of the town and bring them into line. Bring peace and stability; take control. Through persuasion and accommodation. Or through coercion and destruction. By whatever means necessary. And then I will move on to the next hot spot, the next insurgency, the next damned town and the next damned armed conflict.
Ah, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.
I wish I knew where you are; where everyone is. I wish...I knew if you were alive.
It would be nice to know I still have my brother at least.
Georgette and Abbey - well, it's been five months and no word. Jennings and Rall can track how many fucking pins they use in BumbleFuck, USA - sorry, ASA - but can't find any smidgen of information about my wife and child. Or any information about you and the others.
Although they say they're trying. And really - given the millions dead - millions more displaced - I guess I can't really expect them to find my family any faster than anybody else's.
But God, I wish I knew - if I only knew, it would be easier. Easier to make choices and decisions. To know what to do next.
Sometimes I wonder what's right and what's wrong. I look at these towns and this countryside, and I think of the things I've seen and the things I've done, and sometimes...sometimes, I don't know if what I'm doing is for the greater good. And then, I think of Mom and Dad, you and Dulcie, Georgette and Abbey - and my compass points north again.
I have to get back to work. I hope you're safe. Until I know for sure, I'll assume you're safe - and that's enough. It has to be enough. For now.