LANCEJACK (The Union Series) Read Free

pain I had felt in my mind afterwards, and how
I should never shy away from battle again.
    I
frowned, ‘None of your damned business!’
    I
left the ablutions, ignoring Patterson’s hurried apology. I didn’t want to be
reminded of that day; the nightmares were enough.
    #
    Finding
my way to the cookhouse was easy, it was at the very centre of the warren, with
all of the platoon lines built away from it like the spokes of a gigantic
wheel. I waited in line with a queue of troopers from the other platoons, as
loud and boisterous as ever. I listened to them exchanging standard issue insults,
but kept to myself.
    Occasionally
a trooper would glance at me, sizing up the fresh meat, until his eyes would
fall upon my rank and then they would widen in surprise before he looked away.
    I
was young for a lancejack, normally a trooper would wait four years or more for
the chance to promote - but my battalion had insisted that I be sent to Junior
Leaders after only six months service out of training - something that was
almost unheard of. It was the medal again, of course. Whether or not my rapid
promotion was a blessing or a curse, I supposed I would soon find out.
    ‘Well
I thought I had seen everything,’ a voice mocked me from behind, ‘But is this
the best the Union has to offer now?’
    I
spun around and almost fell over backwards. Westy, my old section commander,
was stood there grinning from ear-to-ear! The stocky Welshman laughed as he
shook my hand with a vice-like grip.
    I
was still in shock, ‘ What are you doing here!? ’
    ‘I
should probably be asking you the same question! Funny old world, ain't it? I saw
your name on the warren net and had to see for myself,’ he tapped his wristpad.
    I
shook my head in bewilderment. I had never expected to see anybody from my old
platoon again on New Earth, not since passing Junior Leaders and volunteering
to return with a different battalion. It really was a ‘ funny old world.’
    ‘You
volunteered for this?’ Westy asked as we collected our breakfast; cereals and
bread rolls. My mouth watered, I hadn’t seen fresh food since leaving Uralis.
    I
nodded, ‘Yeah,’ I had, and I was still struggling to come to terms with what
had driven me to do so, ‘And you?’
    ‘Yeah.
Nothing else to do back over there,’ he said with a laugh.  But I noticed
sadness in his voice. I knew what he meant, because I felt the same. I had
nothing back on Earth - my family had no idea what I had been through and
couldn’t understand. And my old friends who had escaped conscription were long gone.
I belonged on New Earth now, I believed, and I would die there, just as I
should have done in the first place.
    I
decided to change the subject whilst we found a table to sit and eat, ‘So
what’s the battalion like?’
    Westy
considered the question, ‘They’re alright, though they haven’t seen action for
decades. They missed out on the invasion, so their hierarchy are pretty keen to
prove themselves. The blokes get hammered on patrols and ops. If they’re not on
rest, they’re on standby.’
    ‘Is
there much going on out there?’
    Westy
looked down at his food and shrugged, ‘Hard to say. But if  Nelly fighters are
moving into the area then they’re doing a good job at not being noticed.’
    ‘So
they’ve had no contacts, nothing?’
    The
Welshman shook his head, ‘Not a thing. The population can get a bit shitty at
times, but that’s about it.’
    The
5 th battalion had arrived on New Earth almost six months ago to
begin a ‘residential’ operational tour that would eventually last for two
years. The fact that they had completed a quarter of their tour - without a
single shot in anger - told me that there wasn’t really much going on in the Nieuwe
Poort province at all.
    ‘It
can get pretty dull for the blokes,’ Westy continued as he spooned cereal into
his mouth, ‘I try to keep my platoon busy when they’re back here so they don’t
end up fighting each other or topping