Their backs against the wall when facing a powerful invader with superior force, the resistance turns to a last-ditch strategy - attacks that are guaranteed to end in death.
That narrative is both classic (think the Battle of Thermopylae with the Greeks setting out to slow the Persian advance) and timely (think the suicide bombings that have become commonplace in the Middle East or the Japanese kamikaze attacks in the waning days of World War II). And it was fuel for one of the more intriguing comic book concepts of the 1980s, Strikeforce Morituri.
A Marvel series that ran from 1985 to 1989, the monthly book started with a science fiction concept - mid 21st century Earth under invasion by a race called the Horde - as the stepping stone for a superhero concept - genetically engineering people to become supersoldiers with super powers. Those Strikeforce Morituri members, with their costumes and with a major merchandising effort behind them, are to serve as a big morale boost as well as a weapon. The trade off is that the genetic engineering work done to them is guaranteed to kill them within a year. Pretty somber stuff for a mainstream comic book, and SM milks it constantly. Issue six of the series sees the character who had been the chief protagonist for the book killed when his powers burn him out. And a constant theme in almost every issue of the first 20 is some character or another ruminating about how they're guaranteed to die fairly soon (or, in the case of the science and military folks behind the project, how they've condemned the SM volunteers to death).
The series was created by writer Peter B. Gillis and artist Brent Anderson (well known for his stellar, detailed work on Astro City, which you also see here). And during their 20-issue run, the two created a well-regarded book that, despite the comic book conceit, was fairly brutal in its treatment of war (in the first issue, we see one terror tactic of the Horde is to kidnap large groups of people, take them into low-orbit space and shove them out airlocks, while people on Earth see the streaks of light in the sky as those kidnappees burn up on re-entry). It also had interesting ruminations on the moral complexity of the main concept - when the Horde convinced one SM member it had a cure to the one-year lifespan problem, he then had serious contemplation about whether it was suicide, and thus a sin, not to pursue that even if it meant possible betrayal of humanity.
(And reading the issues today in 2011, it's an occasional hoot to play the 'This is What They Imagined the Future to be Like' game. For example, cars that drive themselves (score one point), video cassettes still in use (one point off))
After the Gillis/Anderson run, writer James Hudnall took over to more mixed results. The war with the Horde came to a quick end as another alien race came in and the book shifted to more political intrigue as we saw parts of the one-world government were manipulating the war to maintain their personal wealth. The quality became spottier as the story fell apart in consistency and major plotlines were started and then dropped (like the SM member who was forced to enlist at gunpoint and was intensely bitter for one issue).
The series fell apart, however, with the five-issue epilogue, Electric Undertow, that ran in 1989-1990. Taking place 10 years after the SM series, it revolved around a few surviving SM members taking on a vast conspiracy put together by the new alien race that had seemingly saved Earth from the Horde. But gone was the strong characterizations, replaced by mysteries and revelations that ultimately are silly.
Instead, what's left is an interesting cult favorite that is ripe for rebooting someday.
