engrossed in the screen as he updated his section ammo state. Other
troopers scurried about, laying out fresh rations and collecting water packs to
be refilled.
Myers spotted me, and
holding up a ‘horror box’ of rations, said ‘There’s your rations, Andy.’
I took the box and
placed it at my feet. ‘Cheers.’
Myers blinked. ‘You
want your ammo now?’
‘Yeah. I’ll bring the
old mags down in a bit.’
‘OK,’ the young
trooper nodded, continuing with his task.
I should probably
have brought my kit down to the section room, making it far easier to
administrate myself, but my meeting with the sergeant major had rattled me a
little, and I wasn’t thinking straight.
Puppy looked up from
his data pad screen. ‘All good?’
‘Yeah,’ I lied. ‘Just
had to have a quick chat with the sergeant major.’
‘What about? Our
extraction?’
I paused to study the
section 2ic’s face. Did he also disagree with my decision to break out of the
OP? The troopers in the platoon always appeared particularly edgy around me, as
though they all wanted to say something but didn’t have the guts to say it to
my face. I knew they had all heard the rumours about me on New Earth.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘I
presume you know the platoon was pulled out?’
‘We bumped into one
of the other sections when we came in. They must have bugged out of their OPs
within a few minutes of us and extracted straight back here.’
I sighed deeply,
feeling the weight of responsibility upon my shoulders; a heavier weight than
any injured trooper. ‘The sergeant major’s not happy.’
A smirk crept across
Puppy’s face. ‘Is he ever happy?’
‘No,’ I changed the
subject. ‘How’s Wildgoose’s ankle?’
The section sniper
heard his name and looked up from his rifle, holding its oversized battery in
his hand. ‘What’s that?’
‘ Your ankle …’
Puppy repeated.
‘Oh, right.’ The
trooper flexed his foot. ‘Yeah it’s fine, a bit sore.’
‘Awww,’ Skelton
jutted out his bottom lip mockingly. ‘Is it sore ?’
The sniper grinned.
‘Shut up, mate.’
Wildgoose was far
from weak. He was as tough as any recce trooper, probably more so. A head
taller than me and built like a tank, he was by far the most imposing man in
the section, and one of the most dangerous weapons at my disposal. In order to
‘badge’ as a qualified sniper he had completed a gruelling course on Uralis,
home of the dropship infantry. Almost every course going was taught on Uralis,
a miserable planet where the weather was our only enemy, but the sniper course
was known for being particularly arduous. The long range and pinpoint accuracy
of our magnetic weapons meant that the sniper rifle itself was virtually
obsolete, but not the sniper himself. Wildgoose was a master of camouflage,
trained to position himself in the perfect location to take his shot, killing
his quarry and then disappearing undetected. Many snipers operated in small
teams across the planet, answering directly to EJOC, and carrying out tasks
that I would never hear about. Unfortunately for Wildgoose, he had been
attached to our platoon, spending much of his time observing rather than what
he was trained for - hunting and killing men. He often moaned about it, and the
lads in the section loved to poke fun.
‘Get it looked at by
a medic anyway,’ I said.
‘Honestly, its fine,’
the big trooper insisted, and patted his rifle. ‘I’m just glad I got to use
this at last.’
‘Yeah, I saw that,’ I
said, remembering the Loyalist whose head was blown clean off his shoulders.
‘I’m pretty sure that was a confirmed kill!’
The Orion rifle
Wildgoose carried was far more powerful than the simple MSG-20. It had the
power to punch through armour like butter, even at vast ranges, and using his
in-depth understanding of modern vehicles, dropships and suits, he could use it
to destroy equipment that even smart missiles might struggle to defeat. A
dropship, for instance, was
troopers scurried about, laying out fresh rations and collecting water packs to
be refilled.
Myers spotted me, and
holding up a ‘horror box’ of rations, said ‘There’s your rations, Andy.’
I took the box and
placed it at my feet. ‘Cheers.’
Myers blinked. ‘You
want your ammo now?’
‘Yeah. I’ll bring the
old mags down in a bit.’
‘OK,’ the young
trooper nodded, continuing with his task.
I should probably
have brought my kit down to the section room, making it far easier to
administrate myself, but my meeting with the sergeant major had rattled me a
little, and I wasn’t thinking straight.
Puppy looked up from
his data pad screen. ‘All good?’
‘Yeah,’ I lied. ‘Just
had to have a quick chat with the sergeant major.’
‘What about? Our
extraction?’
I paused to study the
section 2ic’s face. Did he also disagree with my decision to break out of the
OP? The troopers in the platoon always appeared particularly edgy around me, as
though they all wanted to say something but didn’t have the guts to say it to
my face. I knew they had all heard the rumours about me on New Earth.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘I
presume you know the platoon was pulled out?’
‘We bumped into one
of the other sections when we came in. They must have bugged out of their OPs
within a few minutes of us and extracted straight back here.’
I sighed deeply,
feeling the weight of responsibility upon my shoulders; a heavier weight than
any injured trooper. ‘The sergeant major’s not happy.’
A smirk crept across
Puppy’s face. ‘Is he ever happy?’
‘No,’ I changed the
subject. ‘How’s Wildgoose’s ankle?’
The section sniper
heard his name and looked up from his rifle, holding its oversized battery in
his hand. ‘What’s that?’
‘ Your ankle …’
Puppy repeated.
‘Oh, right.’ The
trooper flexed his foot. ‘Yeah it’s fine, a bit sore.’
‘Awww,’ Skelton
jutted out his bottom lip mockingly. ‘Is it sore ?’
The sniper grinned.
‘Shut up, mate.’
Wildgoose was far
from weak. He was as tough as any recce trooper, probably more so. A head
taller than me and built like a tank, he was by far the most imposing man in
the section, and one of the most dangerous weapons at my disposal. In order to
‘badge’ as a qualified sniper he had completed a gruelling course on Uralis,
home of the dropship infantry. Almost every course going was taught on Uralis,
a miserable planet where the weather was our only enemy, but the sniper course
was known for being particularly arduous. The long range and pinpoint accuracy
of our magnetic weapons meant that the sniper rifle itself was virtually
obsolete, but not the sniper himself. Wildgoose was a master of camouflage,
trained to position himself in the perfect location to take his shot, killing
his quarry and then disappearing undetected. Many snipers operated in small
teams across the planet, answering directly to EJOC, and carrying out tasks
that I would never hear about. Unfortunately for Wildgoose, he had been
attached to our platoon, spending much of his time observing rather than what
he was trained for - hunting and killing men. He often moaned about it, and the
lads in the section loved to poke fun.
‘Get it looked at by
a medic anyway,’ I said.
‘Honestly, its fine,’
the big trooper insisted, and patted his rifle. ‘I’m just glad I got to use
this at last.’
‘Yeah, I saw that,’ I
said, remembering the Loyalist whose head was blown clean off his shoulders.
‘I’m pretty sure that was a confirmed kill!’
The Orion rifle
Wildgoose carried was far more powerful than the simple MSG-20. It had the
power to punch through armour like butter, even at vast ranges, and using his
in-depth understanding of modern vehicles, dropships and suits, he could use it
to destroy equipment that even smart missiles might struggle to defeat. A
dropship, for instance, was
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