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Authors: Phillip Richards

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BOOK: LANCEJACK (The Union Series)
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Freezing
air bit at the exposed parts of my neck as the outer lock door opened. It was
cold that night on the surface of New Earth, and a quick glance at my visor
display told me it was minus three. The cloudless sky had allowed all of the
day’s heat to escape during the night, causing temperatures to plummet. At
least it wasn’t raining, I thought. New Earth loved to rain.

We
ran onto the landing pad where our four dropships waited in the dark, hovering
just above the ground with their ramps down. Loading had to be quick, the
longer the dropships remained stationary outside, the greater the risk that
they would come under attack from an enemy who could be capable of near enough
anything.

Eight
sets of boots pounded against the ramp as our section loaded onto its dropship.
We quickly strapped ourselves into our seats as tightly as we could, and
secured our weapons into the racks beside us. Dropship crew compartments were
just large enough to fit an eight-man section with all of their kit, but they
were still cramped. My knees touched those of the trooper sat across from me,
we were so tightly packed. Air vents blasted cool air into the compartment, but
it wouldn’t matter once the ramp was closed, the dropship ‘engine’ ran at such
high temperatures that it quickly turned it into a sauna.

The
trooper sat across from me was Patterson. I couldn’t see his face through his
visor to tell if he was nervous, but I imagined that he was. I remembered my
first drop onto New Earth;  I was terrified. Back then though we expected one
in three dropships to be shot out of the sky on entry by a barrage of Chinese
missiles. I felt much more comfortable now with the odds of survival against
the rebels, even though the threat was still very real.

‘Yeah,
all in,’ Konny said from where he sat close to the ramp. His respirator headset
had automatically connected to the dropship commander. The dropship commander
normally only allowed the section commander to connect with him, so that the
rest of us weren’t confused by the constant stream of net traffic received by
the dropship, and so that we didn’t bother him unnecessarily.

The
ramp promptly rose, sealing with a thud. The red compartment lights turned on
immediately upon the door closing and our visors quickly adjusted.

I
mentally prepared myself for the ride, just before my body was thrown against
the straps as the dropship accelerated away from the warren and toward Nieuwe
Poort.

 

5

Neiuwe Poort

 

It
took us little more than fifteen minutes to arrive within the walls of the
conscript forward operating base. A massive compound designed to look more like
a Roman villa than a military base, its towering walls blocked out most of the
city apart from some of the taller domes and the collection of glittering
skyscrapers that marked the city centre.

We
ran from the dropships into a large building adorned with pillars and arches,
herded through the airlock by more conscripts, as I had been when I first
arrived at Lash. The airlock was nowhere near as sophisticated as those at
Lash, though, and its doors opened on hinges like ordinary earth doors, only
with refrigerator like seals to keep out the bad air.

Once
through the lock, we were led down several flights of stairs into a crudely
constructed mini-warren. It was nothing more than a collection of caves and
tunnels dug into the rock, with rounded, ribbed walls - an effect caused by the
robotic laser drills that had made them. It reminded me of the warrens I had
fought through during the invasion, and I shuddered at the memory.

‘Makes
Lash look like a palace,’ I noted out loud.

‘No
shit,’ one of the troopers in my section replied with a smile. My visor identified
him as Private Jackson, a mammoth gunner who was a good head shorter than me. 
It made the size of his weapon all the more impressive, ‘They had to move down
here when the threat went up.’

‘So
it’s just conscripts here?’

‘Yeah.
They hold the ground, we’re just the cavalry if it all goes tits up. They’re
alright, to be fair. They’re not as good as us but they still know their stuff.
Not sure about their major, though. He’s a bit odd.’

We
were assembled inside a small cave to be briefed on our patrol by the
conscripts. A holographic projector sat idle in the centre of the cave next to
a grey haired conscripted officer dressed in full combat equipment, minus his
respirator and helmet, which he held under his arm. The only difference between
us and the conscripts was a slightly different shaped helmet - older models, I
presumed. They also wore large blue Union flag shoulder badges on each arm,
whereas we only wore a single smaller Union flag on one arm and drop trooper
wings on the other.

‘You
will need to keep your respirators on,’ the officer said with a strange voice
that wasn’t in sync with his lips, ‘Unless you can speak German!’

I
realised that my headphones were translating for me. We unclipped our helmets
but left our respirators on so that our headphones could translate. Mr Moore
was the only one to remove his respirator.

‘Smug
bell end,’ somebody whispered. Half of us could barely speak our own language
properly, never mind those of the other Union states. Officers didn’t need to
be from a privileged background but they needed to be well-educated, especially
in languages, but a good education was expensive.

With
a gesture of the German officer’s hand, the holographic projector came to life
and a rotating image of Nieuwe Poort appeared at his feet, bathing the cave in
bright blue light.

‘My
name is Major Ruckheim,’ the middle-aged conscript began, ‘And I am the Officer
Commanding 2
nd
Company, 23
rd
Motor Rifles. Welcome to our
home, Forward Operating Base Eindhoven. We have been here now for a year, after
taking over from the Dutch.

Those
of you who have not been here before should know that this base is on the
eastern edge of the city - here,’ he pointed at a location on the projection
that appeared to be one of the very few parts of the city not encased in domes
of glass, ‘It is a quiet location. Until recently, we have had little to deal
with apart from minor public order incidents in some of the areas more
sympathetic to NELAs cause. Most of those have been little more than small
demonstrations against the fighting to the north. We have known about enemy
infiltration into the region, but until now we could not pinpoint anything.

Yesterday
was different. When one of your platoons came under attack, our Electronic
Warfare team here in Eindhoven picked up a spike in encrypted data from two
locations within the city - here and here.’ This time as he pointed, two red
crosshairs appeared on the hologram, both a kilometre away from Eindhoven in
different directions.

‘Those
little fuckers,’ Jackson whispered under his breath. The attack on two platoon
had been launched from within the city itself, from one of its residential
districts.

‘This
has the potential to be an important breakthrough for us here,’ the major
continued, ‘And so we are going to seize the excellent opportunity that we have
been provided with.’

The
platoon bristled visibly, and somebody within the ranks spoke up, ‘We lost a
bloke to give you your ‘
excellent opportunity’
, mate.’

The
boss and Johnno looked around angrily for the source of the outburst.

Clearly
the major hadn’t known, because he instantly bowed his head, ‘I apologise for
my words, they were not meant to offend. But this is an opportunity for you as
well, then, to make sure that the people who killed your man are brought to
justice.’

The
platoon settled to those words. They wanted revenge, and the major was going to
give it to them. They listened intently as the major went through his plan,
lusting for blood and willing death upon anyone stupid enough to get between
them and their prey. I hoped that they weren’t about to do anything stupid.

The
company were going to conduct a simultaneous arrest operation onto the two
separate locations using a platoon of conscripts for each, with us and a third
conscript platoon providing an ‘outer cordon’ to each of those locations -  a
reserve force tasked with protecting and assisting the operation where
required. They had a fourth fire support platoon in their company, which would
remain in Eindhoven for the unlikely event of the base coming under attack.

‘I
had told your battalion that none of your troops would be required for this
operation,’ the conscripted major said, and I caught a hint of irritation in
his voice, ‘However, your OC demanded that drop troopers take part, and so
therefore I have had to alter my plan to accommodate you.’

I
didn’t know why Major Ruckheim and his conscripts didn’t fully appreciate our
presence. We had lost a life, but still we had come to help them. I decided to
cast the thought from my mind, remembering that I would be working closely with
them for the remainder of my time on New Earth.

‘Your
platoon will move out with our first platoon by Light Support Vehicle,’ the
major continued, ‘Once in location you are to provide protection to the south
and west. You will have LSVs assigned to you for the duration of the operation,
and so in the event of contact you are to act as a mobile reserve.’

The
boss nodded, ‘Understood,’ he said in German, ‘What are our air assets?’

‘No
change. Your dropships will remain nearby on call, and the two saucers will
remain in over watch. Between them and the orbital weapons platform we should
have a constant live feed from above of any developments within the city.
Electronic Warfare will also be looking out for any malicious data
communication and will attempt to block it if necessary.’

A
few troopers fidgeted nervously. ‘
Malicious data’
could turn our own
weapons against us, and had already cost one of their screws his life.

‘Where
will you be during this?’

‘I
will locate myself with first platoon,’ the major replied, ‘The main effort
lies with their target, which we believe to be a NELA commander, hence the
reason you have been tasked to provide them with protection, rather than the
platoon going to the second target. If the enemy respond to our activity, I
believe that it will be there.’

Johnno
raised an arm, ‘Who is the target? Have you got a description?’

The
major paused to read the translation on his datapad and finally shook his head,
‘No. The enemy net traffic is extremely sophisticated, so very little
information could be taken from it. We are lucky that we even have the
locations.’

‘Can’t
we just get the police to do the arrests?’

‘No,
the Nieuwe Poort police are not aware of this operation.’

‘Why
not?’

‘They
just aren’t.’

Johnno
nodded. Fair enough, I thought, we didn’t need to fully understand the
intelligence aspect of our operation, so long as it didn’t affect us on the
ground. All we needed to know was -
there they are, so go get them
.

‘Anything
else?’

Silence.
We were happy. The commanders quickly downloaded the target locations onto
their datapads and marked up their paper maps, and I did likewise. The map
contained within the datapad I wore on my wrist was better than anything that
could be printed onto paper, but it was vulnerable to hacking and could easily
be scrambled. We used both, and never relied solely upon one or the other.

‘Konny,
Andy,’ Johnno called us into a corner of the cave once we were finished, ‘What
was that all about earlier?’

Konny
shrugged.

‘It
was nothing,’ I said, ‘Just a misunderstanding.’

Johnno
shook his head, disappointed with us both, ‘Konny, everyone’s upset, mate, but
you need to pull yourself together. It’s not Andy’s fault that Gaz got it, and
we need him right now more than ever.’

He
looked to me, ‘And you need to calm down, mate, you’ve only just got here and
you’re already close to swinging punches. The blokes are scared as it is,
you’ll only make things worse.’

He
was right and I knew it, ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t
be sorry, Andy. Just think next time.’

‘We’re
squared, Johnno, mate,’ Konny said, ‘No dramas.’

Johnno
didn’t look entirely confident that the issue was resolved, but we didn’t have
the time, ‘Screw the nut, lads,’ he warned before calling out to the boss, ‘How
long have we got?’

‘One
minute,’ the platoon commander answered, ‘Get them upstairs again, kit on.’

There
was no rest for the wicked.

‘You
heard him, boys! Let’s go!’

#

The
Light Support Vehicles were anything but light, I realised. The largest ground
based vehicle we used in drops was the support buggy, which was nothing more
than a means to ferry kit and casualties to and from the frontline in the
absence of the dropships themselves. Even that had to be partially disassembled
in order for it to fit into the tiny crew compartments. But the LSVs were massive,
truck-sized vehicles laden with weapons and armour. Strangely windowless, I
quickly realised that they were unmanned.

‘They’re
robots?’ I wondered aloud.

The
rest of the section ignored my question as we approached the row of vehicles
close to the entrance to Eindhoven, but Jackson nodded excitedly, ‘Yeah. We can
control them directly by remote, though. We’ve used them a couple of times in
the city. Beats walking!’

‘Fair
one.’

‘Wait
till they get going, you ain’t seen nothing yet!’

Before
I had a chance to board the waiting LSV with the rest of my section, the
platoon commander grabbed me by the arm, pulling me to one side. He glared at
me, ‘You argue with my commanders again, and I’ll have you up on a charge. Do
you understand me?’

I
nodded. There was nothing else I could do but agree, ‘Yes, Sir.’

He
wasn’t finished, ‘I don’t care how good you may
think
you are, Moralee,
here you obey
my
rules, and you respect
my
men.’

‘Sir.’

‘Good.
Now get on the vehicles, and hurry up!’

My
cheeks burning red with embarrassment, and my body trembling with rage, I
jogged over to my waiting vehicle. The section were loading in reverse order so
that they could exit the vehicle in the correct order of march, and so they had
been waiting for me, watching me getting a telling off from their boss.

‘Off
to a good start I see,’ Geany sneered as I boarded, ‘Maybe we’ll see what
you’re really made of today,
Corporal
!’

My
blood boiled.
Fucking bell ends
, I thought in fury
, I’m in a platoon
of fucking bell ends.

Fortunately
I was sat at the very rear of the crew compartment in order for me to ensure
that everybody exited at the other end, plus I had Patterson sat across from me
and Jackson to the side of me. Jackson seemed alright, although he was a little
over-energetic and Patterson was a crow, so unless he did something stupid or
asked a ridiculous question, he wouldn’t cause me any bother. I needed time and
space to calm down.

Sensing
my anger, Jackson gave me a calming tap on the arm as he took his seat beside
me. As a mammoth gunner, he had probably served as long as I had, but Jackson
clearly wasn’t bothered by my early promotion. He struck me as a friendly
trooper who didn’t care for seniority, just like my old friend Climo, and I
made a conscious decision to nurture that attitude.

BOOK: LANCEJACK (The Union Series)
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