Meaning

Meaning

Hell had found me. Not the brimstone of biblical lore that consumes the soul but rather a Faustian kind where I made a deal with the devil and then suffered with my choice.

Reaching into my sleeve pocket, I pulled out a creased photo. Squinting in the sunlight, I felt my face pull into a smile as I remembered the childhood magic of that time and place. My angels. Two little faces smiled in innocence at the camera through a tacky cutout flanked by fairies. Those were happy days, meaningful days … on Earth. The years and unimaginable distance now made the picture only a distant memory.

I smiled at the pun, realizing how distant it really was. I tucked the picture away as the memory faded into the grey-green soil surrounding me. Meaningful days. The words were just as purposeful but in a different context. Pandora was an earth-type planet in the Andromeda system and our mission was protecting the small colony that had been established.

“What a SNAFU  , Sergeant,” Corporal Rogers murmured, peering over the edge of the crater. “Didn’t anyone survey the natives before we got here?”

“Yeah, but you know Squints,” I responded. “They only see what they want to see. Every planet is paradise; every alien is a friend.”

“They should be here now. I’d be glad to show them what they missed in their survey,” he said darkly.

The Pandorians, it turned out, were a nature-based society. A empathetic nature-based society in communication with all life on the planet – the flora and fauna. When we cleared the base-site, they felt the pain and now were rallying the planet against us. “That’s all history now. Focus if you want a history beyond today!” The tree line shimmered with movement.

I rolled over, lifting my visor, and pulled a cigar out. Rogers gave me a hard look. “I don’t think we need to worry about giving away our position,” I grinned. Comprehension filled his eyes.

As I raised the smoke, I saw the tattoo emblazoned on my forearm: “1st Brigade, 3rd Space Marines. Don’t Get Carried Away.” The play on words made me smile.

The one meaning – moderation – had brought me here. With only two months left on my enlistment, I had envisioned retiring on Pandora. It was a beautiful welcoming world – or so I had thought.

Now, the second meaning was in play. Don’t die – walk off the battlefield.

“Here they come,” Rogers shouted.

I rolled over and sighted down the barrel as a wave of life-forms came crashing toward me. Looks like I’ll be staying one way or another. I took a deep drag of the cigar, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.

An entry for the April round of "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Image – Use and bold the following words: angels, friends, childhood magic, fairies
Word Limit: 1000
Word Count: 482