Although Rawson had been involved in my violent punishment for attacking Woody, he had taken mine and Climo’s presence in the section remarkably well, in fact he appeared more than happy with the trade-off for Chase, who he clearly got on well with. I didn’t think he would ever admit it, but Rawson found Woody’s personality tiresome.
Berezynsky remained as quiet as ever within the section, barely saying a word to anyone unless spoken to, which had begun to cause other troopers to ask if he had mental issues. As for the other new lads within the platoon, we had all found our own places within our sections, and even though we were at the bottom of the pile, we began to be treated like human beings at last. Woody’s stooge Stevo had withdrawn himself since losing his protection, and the platoon began to feel balanced, even if it still wasn’t always pleasant. Perhaps we were all beginning to finally realize that when the time came and we dropped into the New Earth atmosphere, it wouldn’t matter who we were or where we came from or how long we had served. In the end we would all fight and die side by side up against the full force of our enemy.
The might of the Chinese was sobering - endless holographic briefings with the boss in the galley detailed the known weapons in their arsenal - and their estimated numbers.
The Chinese possessed a conscripted ground force in excess of two hundred thousand men, much like the sand bag fillers who trailed behind our invasion fleet. They, like our conscripts, were more about quantity rather than quality, but sometimes in war quantity had its own kind of quality, and two hundred thousand was a lot of men. They would all be dug deep into warrens, with a mind to turn the surface of the planet into chaos as soon as we hit the deck.
They had an estimated thirty dropship battalion based mostly on the surface, which roughly translated into an additional twenty-five thousand fully trained volunteers who would move rapidly by dropship and act as shock troops, striking at units bogged down by the conscripts.
Chinese soldiers were supposedly similar to us, but uniformed in a light pink camouflage with a visor that was black and hid their faces.
‘Despite popular belief that the enemy soldiers are all robots,’ the platoon commander smirked at the absurdity, ‘The Chinese visors are black for reasons simply within the design.’
‘That’s what they want us to think, Sir,’ Rawson pointed out with a hint of humour in his voice. One of Stevo’s latest rumours was that the Chinese soldiers were ‘Cyborgs’, the very word sent shivers down trooper’s spines. Cybernetics was taboo, reserved for the rich and the depraved, and what it could render men capable of was unknown to us. And all troopers feared the unknown.
‘Well, why don’t you prove it to me when we get down there,’ the boss said challengingly, and we laughed.
Chinese dropships were larger and squatter in appearance than ours, as were their gunships, which were their answer to our gravtanks. They were designed much more like aircraft than our low profile ground hugging craft but their basic capabilities were much the same.
Chinese soldiers on the ground outnumbered us significantly; we had only twenty-six dropship battalions to their thirty and only one hundred thousand conscripts to take over the ground we captured. We were relying upon our navy to provide us with orbital supremacy and for our unmanned fighters to outmatch theirs and keep control of the atmosphere.
If the numbers we had were anything to go by - and where they came from I would never know - then the Chinese were outnumbered by our fleet as we brought with us an impressive sixty warships to their forty, but for unmanned aircraft we were only at best the Chinese equal. Chinese robotic fighters were the scourge of the Union army and we feared them, but none as much as the ‘saucer’.
Amusingly the saucer was once seen by our ancestors as a spacecraft flown by creatures from elsewhere in the universe, and it invoked terror that transcended generations. The real thing made its debut on the battlefield years ago, piloted by a computer like many modern aircraft and manufactured by factories on human colonies. It too created terror, but a terror far worse, for this saucer was real, and it carried guns. The saucer was an unmanned aircraft that used a far more advanced propulsion system than our dropships did, and because it was unmanned it was barely limited to the speeds it could go up to or how rapidly it could change direction. If a man were inside it he could be turned into mush. It was so shaped in order to make it aerodynamic in all directions, which helped make it far harder to hit because one second it would be going one way and then the next. They were mostly used by modern armies as atmospheric fighters, but they also made devastating ground attack aircraft and the Chinese knew this all too well. A Chinese ground attack saucer was equipped with banks of smart missile pods, and a twin twenty millimetre cannon that could turn a platoon into mincemeat before they even saw the thing. We were scared of the saucers, and all desperately hoped that our lives wouldn’t be brought to an abrupt end by one.
The day before we would arrive in Alpha Centauri I heard word from Greggerson that Woody had been released from the infirmary and would indeed make the drop.
‘How can they be releasing him so soon?’ I asked as my heart plummeted down into my stomach, ‘The bastard died several times didn’t he?’
Greggerson shrugged, ‘He had ops on his brain too, apparently. He’s gone to two platoon.’
Damn trooper’s rumour, I cursed silently, knowing that there was no way Woody could recover to combat fitness that quickly if his brain had indeed been operated on and he had been in a critical condition for days. Modern medicine could do it, but drop troopers weren’t worth enough to warrant such expensive medical equipment. After all, there was one advantage to infantry that ensured that we never became obsolete. We were cheap.
‘Who told you?’ I asked.
‘Stevo,’ Greggerson answered, ‘I wasn’t talking to him, I overheard him saying it,’ he quickly added as if I would be disgusted at him talking to the senior tom. People in the platoon liked Stevo less than Woody, who he often hid behind. He was also full of shit, but this time I somehow knew that Stevo wasn’t making up another one of his random false rumours. Woody was out, and surely he would be wanting his revenge.
Entering the Alpha Centauri system was an anti-climax, there were no sirens, no sudden shudders through the superstructure, just a chime on the ship’s announcement system at four in the morning whilst me, Climo and our new room-mate, Chase, slept in our bunks. The sound woke me and I knew what it meant, we were there, and I waited for the captain to speak. The announcement system remained silent and after several minutes I realised that it would remain so. There was no need to wake us early, because we would not arrive at New Earth for another twenty-four hours at least, and we had already been briefed what we needed to be briefed. Besides, it would take the Chinese hours before they even realised we were even inside the Alpha Centauri system, and far longer before any contact would be made between the two mighty navies.
We were to be given a lie in that morning, until zero-nine-hundred. Bliss, given that our average sleep was only seven hours long, and a chance for us to recharge depleted batteries for what lay ahead for us.
I tried to get myself back to sleep, tossing my body to and fro across the bed to get comfortable again. Eventually I resigned to staring at the shadow of the bunk above me where Chase slept, unaware of our arrival and snoring loudly. Nothing had changed on the ship, the room remained the same, and the air vent continued to blow its light breeze against my face as it always had done. But something had changed, because somewhere out there in the unseen void was the enemy, and we were no longer alone.
There was also something else very different that morning though, as we washed and dressed for breakfast, instead of our dull grey ship’s fatigues we wore our dark red gel armour that we would soon be fighting in. We were quiet, subdued even, and the NCOs barked orders and hurried us along and tried their best to keep us motivated.
‘This time tomorrow you’ll have a pinkie on the end of your bayonet!’ Westy, the Welsh
corporal in command of Greggerson’s section grinned from ear to ear as though he relished the thought of the killing that came his way, and his section cheered enthusiastically on their way to breakfast.
Passing Corporal Evans in the corridor to the galley I thought maybe me and Climo might receive our own encouragement from our section commander, but he simply nodded.
‘Carry on, lads,’ he said, and we scurried away.
‘Do you think he doesn’t like us?’ I asked Climo.
‘Nah, he’s like that with everyone. Trust me, mate, if there’s a section to be in, it’s his.’
I hoped to God that he was right.
Through the day we were fed tiny bits of information about what was going on outside Challenger’s metal shell. The Union fleet had completed its jump successfully, and was moving toward New Earth and Centauri Alpha’s four other worlds, which were either scorched wastelands or cold gas giants. The vast majority of the fleet moved toward New Earth, the primary objective of the operation, and just after mid-day we detected the first of the Chinese ships. It wouldn’t be long until the first laser banks began to fire, and combat would commence.
We sat in the galley together as a company, and listened while the ship’s captain and the OC made their speeches, and the captain told us that whoever our God was we should take him with us and that he would protect us, or something like that. I looked for Woody amongst the crowd that huddled close around the two officers, fearing for reprisals, but I couldn’t see him and besides I had far worse things to worry about. Two hundred and twenty-five thousand Chinese soldiers, to be precise. Nobody spoke a word, we listened as though those words would be the last we would ever hear, and maybe they were. We tried to appear calm, but you could feel the tension amongst the company, the air was thick with it. We were scared. Sure we had volunteered to do our duty, but none of us wanted to die. We wanted adventure, we wanted purpose, we wanted money, we wanted guts and glory - there were so many things that made us chose to serve at the tip of the blade of the Union spear - but none of us wanted to die, and now on the verge of all-out war, we were scared.
The captain returned to her bridge to command the upcoming battle in space, and a naval officer finished collecting hurriedly written last letters to families and loved ones and then he too disappeared, leaving only the dropship infantry behind.
‘Gentlemen,’ the OC addressed us all, ‘In the next few hours we will enter New Earth orbit. We will drop not long afterwards. I won’t keep you any longer. It has been a pleasure to command this company, and it will be an honour to command you in battle. You are all the very best that the Union has to offer. Or at least I hope so…..’ A smile crept across his face, and we all laughed and cheered. The OC held up a hairy arm and the company fell back to silence, ‘Gentlemen, I wish you all the very best of luck.’
The CSM received the nod from the OC, ‘Platoon Sergeants! Get your platoons to your dropships, confirm when you’re complete.’
I shook hands with Peters for one last time before I left for my dropship. I had barely seen him during our voyage, and I knew that there was a chance I wouldn’t see him again.
‘Take care, mate,’ I told him.
‘You, too, man, good luck.’
And he was gone.
#
We walked in eerie silence through the corridors of Challenger toward the dropship hangars, a crowd of red uniforms heading in only one direction. We wouldn’t return to see our accommodation for weeks or even months, and that was if we made it back at all. Naval personnel stood back and watched blankly as the procession passed, they were neither glad nor sorry to see us go. We were going somewhere terrible where there was a good chance we might die, but they too faced their own perils over the coming days.
I had hated my prison on board Challenger, but now I longed to stay inside its protective superstructure, guarded by banks of lasers, missiles and vulcan cannon. I had become used to it, for all the suffering it had caused me, but now I was faced with a whole new horror; an enemy whose numbers I could scarcely imagine who sat waiting for us, waiting for his prey to come to him.
There were no more speeches, we had heard enough. Instead we were lined up beside our dropships and counted in by our section commanders. They gave the nod to the platoon sergeant, and then he in turn told the CSM that the platoon was complete and fully prepared to drop.
‘Double check all equipment,’ I overheard the CSM speaking to Jamo, looking over all of us as he made his rounds through each of the platoon hangars, ‘Ensure you check all comms, batteries, etcetera. You know the score, mate.’ Jamo nodded.
Before the CSM left the hangar he looked over to Corporal Evans and gave a very slight but respectful nod. Our section commander’s hard face gave nothing away as he returned the nod, but Jamo appeared to bristle visibly.
‘The CSM was Ev’s platoon sergeant,’ Climo explained quietly, ‘…On Eden,’ he added.
‘Wow,’ I exclaimed, ‘They must have seen some shit together.’
‘Yeah, the CSM absolutely loves Ev, and Jamo hates it. He thinks Ev should have had the platoon.’
‘Shut up, you two,’ Joe Mac rounded on us, ‘This is still a parade, not a cheers-easy get together!’
‘Sorry, Joe,’ I said, as Climo glowered.
‘Have you got a problem with me, Climpson?’ Joe took a step toward Climo, who said nothing, ‘you might think you’re the new wide boy because you can hit people with chairs, but if you kick off with me I will spread you up the wall.’ Brown was looking over. He said nothing, but he glared at me and I looked away.
‘Joe,’ Corporal Evans called for calm, ‘Let’s save it for New Earth, alright?’
‘Sorry, Ev,’ Joe stepped away from Climo, who still stared at him defiantly, ‘He’ll learn soon enough.’
We double-checked all of our equipment, trying to keep busy to keep our minds off what was coming our way. Whilst I checked the contents of my daysack were packed correctly, Brown crouched beside me. His breath burned the back of my neck and I shuddered.
‘Woody’s dropping with us, today, you know that don’t you?’ He said darkly.
‘Yes,’ I answered bluntly.
‘He wants you to know that he’ll find you,’ his words were filled with hatred, ‘And have an accident. With you and your new mate. That’s if I don’t get you first.’
I said nothing, what could I say? I tried to appear nonchalant and continued to pack my daysack.
‘Go talk to one of your friends, Brown,’ Climo said, seeing what was going on, ‘Oh wait, that’s right, you don’t have any.’
It was Brown’s turn to say nothing, he walked away.
‘I hate that bloke.’
We loaded onto the dropship and began to put on our armour and daysacks ready to go. This is it, I thought, this was the end of my journey, the final climax of almost two years of training and preparation. My heart began to pump hard against my ribcage and my palms began to sweat. I was so scared, but I tried to hide it. Besides the enemy I had Woody after my blood, and a man in my own section would love to see me dead.
Climo patted my shoulder gently, ‘It’ll be alright, mate,’ he said as we took our places in the tiny dropship crew compartment, ‘Trust me.’ He slipped something into the inside of his helmet.
‘What’s that?’ I asked.
‘Picture of my family.’
‘Oh.’
He showed me the inside of his helmet, which he had lined with simple printed pictures of friends and family, ‘If I die, I want to be surrounded by the people I love.’
‘Wow. That’s heavy, mate,’ I secretly regretted not doing the same, all of my family pictures were kept on my tablet still locked away in my room. I suppose I didn’t want my family with me when I did what I was about to do. I longed for them so badly and the pictures only made it worse.
‘Stuff like that won’t help where we’re going,’ Chase said, strapping himself into his seat.
‘Let’s get a move on
, lads,’ Corporal Evans ordered from outside the dropship, ‘We’re approaching New Earth now.’
The waiting was over.
12: The Ditches
Rain pelted my visor, and my boots crunched on the gravelled surface of New Earth as I ran. I was driven not by rage or purpose, but through sheer terror. I ran after Berezynsky, who was barely visible in the thick hot smoke belching from the dischargers mounted on the dropship’s stubby wings. It fired salvos of missiles into multiple targets, its twin vulcan cannons roaring as they spat death toward the enemy. The dischargers too billowed hot smoke from its sides to help mask us from the enemies sight and infra-red, and scores of flares shot into the sky to deter missiles. The dropship had become a deadly firework show so loud my earphones could barely filter it. It was necessary to protect us, as well as the dropship itself, from the enemy because they were close, very close indeed.
I ran in a crouch through the smoke, the fear of death in me as I followed Berezynsky toward the ditch that the dropship pilot had told us to use as cover.
We were the first ones out. There was an order to debussing that we were taught on Uralis and had practiced again and again using Challenger’s simulators during our voyage. The section commander never went first, and neither would the second in command. This wasn’t a cowardly thing by any means, the section commander was so busy commanding the section, listening to the company radio network and planning his next action he often wasn’t paying much attention to his own safety. Corporal Evans was right behind me, though.
‘Move!’ He yelled, with an urgency I had rarely heard from him.
The air cracked and hissed around my head as steel darts punched through the air. We were being fired upon, and we were only being missed because of the sheer firepower being unleashed by the dropship. It wouldn’t last forever, though. Adrenaline spurred my body ever faster.
‘Get down!’
I threw myself into the ditch, rolling down the steep bank and into a pool of cold water. I felt it soak under my armour and seep into my boots.
C.R.O.W. (The Union Series) Page 14
