Soul at War by Martyn J. Pass

Wulfgar had taken as many of the weapons as he could;
others took their personal belongings to send home to
relatives.
    "Troopers advance," Burns ordered and
strode ahead into the tree line heading towards the city. Tekoa
took point and jogged ahead. I was at the back of the group with
Walker and Brand who looked worryingly unnerved by the
situation.
    "I don't like the idea of heading into
the lion's den," said Brand nursing the long barreled sniper's
rifle. She, like the weapon was a thing of beauty, but it was sad
to think of their purpose in life. Her brunette hair was kept short
and boyish but she had a strong womanly figure and war had taken
none of her femininity away as it had done with so many
others.
    "I don't think we have much of a
choice, do we sir?" replied Walker.
    "I suppose not. Now that the Midian is
out of range and the Avalon is committed elsewhere, we need to find
another way off the planet," I said.
    "I suppose you must be quite used to
this, sir?" Asked Brand who took a step back and fell in line next
to me.
    "What makes you say that,
Brand?”
    “I heard a few things about you, sir.
Things from some of the other troopers if you don't mind me saying
so.”
    “Go on.”
    “Well, you were in the tri-colony wars
on Mars.”
    “That's correct.”
    “You led the charge on New
Bakersfield. Turned the war around for us. Sir.”
    “Don't always listen to
rumors, Brand. Any history is boring without a bit of
embellishment, don't you think?” I laughed. "I was at the tri-colony wars on Mars
and yes, I did lead the charge on New Bakersfield. But the hero there was a
young private by the name of Alex Shadsworth of Manchester,
England. He actually stood on the wall between us and the colonists
and gave the war cry that rallied the handful of us who'd survived
the artillery fire.”
    “What did he say?” asked
Walker rather amazed.
    “I will always remember
it. He jumped up on the rubble, lifted his rifle up and shouted
'let's go fuck them up lads – the pub opens at three'.”
    “You're joking, sir.” said
Brand looking slightly disappointed. “What happened to
Shadsworth?”
    “After his heart warming
speech a sniper opened his head like a melon.” They laughed. “It
was a shame really. After that the unit were so angry that I had to
lead the charge or they would have left me behind. So no, it wasn't
anything to be proud of. Shadsworth deserves the
credit.”
    “Did he get any?” asked
Walker.
    “Yes. I had to give a
report after the war was over and you will find his name on a brass
plaque on the war memorial outside New Bakersfield. Underneath it
quotes the very speech he gave. Or at least the edited
version.”
    “Alex
Shadsworth . I'll have to remember that
name.” muttered Brand.
    Looking into her eyes as we marched
through the fields, you could see that life for Karen Brand was
lived through the rifle scope and must have seemed pretty far away
until she was forced to be a part of it. Behind the tough
appearance was a soul at war with itself and I got the impression
that the only way she could stay sane was to cut herself off from
the horror, to get behind the rifle and pretend it wasn’t real. If
only it was that simple.
    There was a cry from the front and
somebody went down, falling out of line in a crumpled heap. One of
Wulfgar's flanks began firing and the rest us dove for the nearest
piece of cover, Brand behind me, Walker shooting off to the
left.
    "Down!" I shouted to the six or so
that had gathered near me. Bergen’s dropped to the floor and
weapons opened up around my ears. Brand crouched on her knee, scope
hunting for a target and delicate fingers working the zoom control.
On my left I saw Walker dash forward to the next tree waving on
three others. Wulfgar was further along the line and charging
forward, his huge frame hauling the great heavy machine gun that
blazed flame and brass as he went, bathing the forest in awesome
firepower. "Forward!" I yelled and ran ahead, rounds