The Director

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I'm tired, so very, very tired. I feel that I have been running all of my life, and in a sense, that is the truth. It would seem that I have never been in Fate's good graces, and as a result of this my life has been plagued with loss and misfortune.

Alison was the only truly good thing that happened in my life. Ever since her passing, my life has been filled with bitterness, rage, and regret. Could I have saved her? What could I have done differently? I suppose it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. They are after me, agents Carolina and Washington, accompanied by their rag tag band of simulation troopers. Years ago I might have laughed. Two ex-Freelancers aided by the worst soldiers the army has to offer trying to take me down. Now it takes all of my will power to stop from sobbing. Nothing has gone right. I have destroyed everything I loved. My organization, my men, the AI, all gone, destroyed by my ambition. I once thought ambition was a desirable trait, and I still think it is, but looking back it is obvious that I bit off more than I can chew. And now I am a fugitive, hunted by my former subordinates, reviled and hated by all, loved by none.

I did the right thing. What I did was morally dubious, yes, but the right thing never the less. You see, what men like the Chairman never understood was that the universe is not black and white, but a shade of grey. We like to tell our children and ourselves that good men are capable of no wrong and that evil will always be beaten. This cannot be further from the truth. The universe is a cruel and dangerous place, hostile to human life. Our war with the Covenant proved that to be true. Certain rules must be bent, if not broken altogether. Sacrifices must be made. The ends do justify the means. But few recognize this essential fact of life. They would rather bury their heads in antiquated concepts of morality rather than face the truth. To be honest, at this point in my life I can't blame them. I have seen too much, and I have done too much. There is so much blood on my hands.

But in spite of all the harsh choices I have made, and all the people that I have sacrificed, if I had to do it all over again, I would do the exact same thing. I was right. Humanity had to survive. And it did, because of my inventions, my ideas and my tactics. We are united, stronger and more powerful than we were before the war. But these people will never see it that way. I sacrificed everything for my country and my species. I gave everything, my life, my knowledge, and my very soul to humanity, and in return for my trouble I have been hated and rejected. Why can't they understand that I only did it to help them?

It doesn't matter now. They are coming for me. I can't outrun them forever. Soon they will be here. And this time, there is no magic bullet, no escape route, and no way to avoid the inevitable. I wonder if they will even bother to face me when they kill me. Or will they just shoot me in the back and be done with it? I wonder what they will expect to find when they do find me. Will they expect some master villain plotting his next evil scheme? Will they expect a cackling madman?

No. All they will find is a bitter old man, a man filled more with memory than hope. I did what was right. I regret nothing. They may spit upon me today, but history shall vindicate my work. But that doesn't matter now. In a way, I almost welcome the end. I only hope that when Carolina and Washington do come, that they will kill me with dignity. I think that it is the least I deserve.

Soon I will be dead, and then Alison and I will be together again. Soon my love, soon.