Tag Archives: crime against nature

Samson : Note 1

I was born in a test tube. Can’t say I feel any particularly way about it, maybe some base distaste for being a crime against nature from the day I was slated to be conceived.  I have no brothers and especially no sisters, for I am a clone and the term brother couldn’t begin to describe what it feels like to be around one of me. Humans talk about love, love for family, love for strangers. But they don’t know respect, understanding, knowing someone not by word or action but by smell and thoughts unspoken. This “respect” is fostered in the litters in which we were born. 24 man-made souls, from 872 capital ships, raised over a period of 14 years, and taught all the basic essentials of life, mostly what we are, what we are meant to do, and the meaning behind doing so. The meaning is the most important, not because having a purpose in life is important, but because that’s what you’re suppose to understand to avoid being weaned from the litter. Out of 24, seven of us are bound to wash out and those bound to wash out rarely turn the age of 10.

“For we are the glory of mankind.

We fight in their footsteps and through the mouths of angels.

We bring the rains of hell upon the foul things that pollute the motherland with their very existence.

We make life short and bleak for those who fester under the sun and below rocks and even under the sea if there is yet more evils to be found there. ”

And so on and so forth until our lives are ground into dust by the reclaimer protocol that claims our corpses when the enemy has finally slain us. It is, as we like to say, a brutish existence not becoming a softer toned men. Softer tone being that of our human handlers, some too anxious to join the battlefield in glistening armor and flaming sword. We try to discourage the spirit the best we can in those that seem a bit too, “into it”, as the softy’s would say, so at least only those fully trained and ready in body and soul can stand in the darkness and freedom as we do, as we have been born for.

Some of our a soft tone handlers, most from divisions not considered to be part of Noah but part of a greater slice of the government with many branches that my kind are vaguely privy to, would often go through great pains to personally ask why us Samson’s, lauded for our great intelligence, seem content with our “grim fates.” Why we don’t rebel? Which even now, several years into this war, is a primary concern of those who distance themselves from the institution that is Noah.

I have answered this question a few times. Usually with a wizened laugh, stating their concerns are drowned under several facets and sufficiently buried underneath several layers of reasons and understanding. The soft tones have misconceptions about the nature of intelligence, inherently so being very much far removed from what is necessary for survival. For humanity intelligence is merely the sum of facts gathered purposely under a keen mind. In mans natural habitat, the universe simply yields results and the only wall to overcome is the ignorance of the unknown. But for the rest of us, archiving facts means little, and nothing “yields” unless savagely broken. To know, to study, and to ultimately overcome an intelligence keen enough to evade your pursuit, or better fight back, is the greatest show of mental prowess. So they (not all) inherently misunderstood what it means to have a firm head on ones shoulders, at least from our perspective.

Now you can blame our ‘nature’ on the weaning, or our indoctrination from a young age. Maybe its the genes, though no one can deny we were bred to be aggressive, if not eager to spill and cause mayhem. Each layer of reasoning has its toll, though I’ve never meet a Samson to complain about it. The assumptions that we’re either happy to be used or seething with bitterness, is a misconception. To rephrase, we are tools, that much is obvious, but we do not take orders for the love or hate of it. It’s not the adrenaline that rides our veins, or any particular high or thrill that ultimately allows us to swallow the heavy pill of our fates. As a Patriarch is a man, not of science, math, or reading, but of necessity, if not mere students of disciplines long forgotten to time and the Exodus, we Samson’s are students of war. And like any good student, it is not the pleasure, or the ease that drives us, but the necessity of the subject in question. Because someone must learn it, we are merely the volunteers.

Can anyone imagine? Full war-time production of Samson’s can reach, 20928 at any given time, with a six-month delay between batches for each ship can only contain at max 3 litters of potential troops. Not including the ones who are weaned, this method of thinking, some may call even twisted, is shared by each and every one of them. Through potentially 20928 life experiences, or 62784 souls at max capacity. This is why we are clones, not brothers. Clones can differ in behavior, temperament, thought process, and can even deal with variations in environment, but eventually…. you are what you are. And if the core is right, ultimately they’ll avoid getting weaned, and the soft tones will declare another victory for the glory of man.

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