Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
By Portrait of a Scribe

"Therefore, he who wishes peace, should prepare war; he who desires victory, should carefully train his soldiers; he who wants favorable results, should fight relying on skill, not on chance."
--Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus

Prologue.

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2030 A.D. - Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton - 1000 hours

Wide, brandy-brown eyes gazed around at the Marines milling about the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, located in southern California, with some curiosity and a hint of awe, and a small hand came up to tuck a wayward strand of chocolate-brown hair behind one ear. The little owner of these features, a young girl of about ten years old, wondered briefly what the commotion was about. After all, she had been on base since she was small; she knew all of the normal training procedures and the like.

"Amanda!" called a male voice. Amanda blinked, and turned to face the owner of the voice. He was a young marine with golden-tan skin, close-cropped black hair, dark brown eyes, and the build of a professional wrestler. Anyone else might have been intimidated by the large man; Amanda, however, was very familiar with him, and simply grinned at him before waving.

"Sarge!" she called teasingly with a childish giggle. The man she so jokingly called 'Sarge' rolled his eyes as he came to stand next to the girl.

"Shouldn't you be in school, Amanda?" he asked, his voice as gruff as it always was. Amanda shrugged.

"It's the day after Thanksgiving, Dwayne Casimir Mahonin," she quipped dryly. "I've got the day off, and besides, I wouldn't miss this chance for anything in the world."

"What chance?" Dwayne prompted, ignoring her taunting tone of voice. "The chance to see the base in an uproar?"

"Of course," the ten-year-old said matter-of-factly. "It's not every day I see all these clean-cut, hard-ass Marines run around with their panties in a bunch."

"Don't talk like that," Dwayne scolded half-heartedly.

"Whatever," Amanda drawled. "So, what's going on?"

Dwayne sighed and shrugged before he leaned against a nearby lamppost. "Some accident happened at the Olduvai Research Facility on Mars, so they're scrambling a team together to go up and clean up the mess."

"Oh."

"Goat's going, and so am I."

"Oh. Okay. Will you be back today?"

"Probably," Dwayne replied. "With whatever survivors there might be." He paused. "You know, there's been talk of me joining the RRTS, lately."

Amanda blinked up at her unofficial 'big brother'. "'RRTS'? What's that?" she asked.

"The 'Rapid-Response Tactical Squad'," Dwayne rattled off. "It's a spec-ops group, the cream of the crop."

Amanda smiled, but it was tinged with a little bit of reluctance. "I'm happy for you if you make it in," she said.

Dwayne grinned and ruffled her hair. "Don't worry, I won't leave you alone just like that," he said. "You might have to go back to your mom and dad for the summers and the holidays, but I don't think you'll mind that that much."

Amanda's eyes lit up even as she tried to straighten her mussed brown tresses. "Really?" she asked. "Excellent!"

Dwayne chuckled. "Just keep up your grades, and I think we can probably get something worked out," he said.

"Yeah," Amanda retorted, affecting a pout. "Military schools are tougher than public schools, 'specially for girls!"

"Of course," Dwayne said, "but you'll be all the stronger for it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Amanda drawled, waving him off. "'That which does not kill us makes us stronger', and all that. I've only heard it a million times. 'Sides, what do I need all that for, anyway? I'm gonna be in the Marines when I grow up!"

Dwayne's eyebrows shot up. "Really, now?" he asked, incredulous.

Amanda's only response was an emphatic nod.

"Which part of the Marines?" Dwayne prompted.

"RRTS," Amanda stated. "But first I'll become a medical specialist in the Navy so's I can put the stinging stuff on all your cuts and bruises."

Dwayne scowled down at her. "You're just a little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" It was more of a statement.

Amanda just grinned, and watched as he stalked away to go do whatever it was he had to do. Then she turned back to her previous activity: watching the Marines run themselves ragged.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Doom or any of its characters or locations. I only own a copy of the movie and the book (which, by the way, is much better than the movie).

Okay, first Doom story, here. Please don't kill me for using an OC. For anybody who's reading this and is interested, Reaper and Sam will be showing up soon. If anybody cares, that is.

Hope you like it, and please send me some feedback. It helps me to improve my writing. Flames will be fed to the mutants on Olduvai.

-Portrait of a Scribe