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Authors: Phillip Richards

BOOK: EDEN (The Union Series)
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It sort of made
sense, I thought. Fight a miniature war alongside an unfriendly planetary
province, or risk fighting a full-on fight to the death against a highly
advanced enemy, with the capability to seize control of the entire planet. I
knew well enough what a war of that scale looked like. I still had nightmares
about it.

'There are three
component parts to the task force that is presently being assembled,' the boss
continued. 'The first is a logistical and combat support element. This will
take the form of a robust and well-defended supply chain running from Paraiso,
to Edo, and then following the FEA on their advance. Its main task will be to provide
the necessary rations, water and equipment to allow the FEA to advance back
into the Bosque and maintain momentum.

The second component
is a strike force composed of numerous dropship battalions and gravtank
squadrons, to be kept on standby in Paraiso. Tasked with providing the other
two components with an effective quick reaction force if required, it is only
to be used as a last resort. I seriously doubt that you will ever see this
component in action.’

I thought of Stevo,
sat back in his barracks enjoying life in the luxurious capital city, without a
care in the world. I hoped his head hurt, because I knew mine did.

'The third component
is where we come in. Direct, intimate support. The intention is for the brigade
recce force to deploy in its entirety, embedding itself into FEA units with the
task of providing close support, tactical advice and a liaison between the
front line and EJOC itself. In addition, it will provide the means to integrate
joint fires with the FEA, giving them access to close-air support and orbital
strikes.'

'Fucking hell …' I
breathed.

The boss heard me,
and nodded. 'Indeed. Quite frankly, when this was briefed down to me, I
actually thought somebody was playing a prank! The plan is for the brigade
recce force to insert close to the front line, where each unit will be met by
the FEA at pre-determined rendezvous points. From there, we will work closely
with them as they go back on the offensive, providing the full suite of aerial,
artillery and even orbital assets at our disposal.

The situation for the
FEA is pretty dire. They’ve been pushed back to the southern edge of the
Bosque, having lost their stronghold around the city of Dakar. Now they’re
trying to make their last stand along the Ghandi River in an effort to halt the
Loyalist advance. As you can imagine, that’s not going very well. The Loyalists
have a considerable advantage - their supply lines are stronger and their
equipment is better - but most advantageous is their fire support assets and
air defensive screen. The Loyalist artillery is quite literally pounding the
FEA into submission, and their dropships can’t even get a few hundred metres
forward of the front line without being shot down by volleys of missiles. The
FEA have taken heavy losses already, and are assessed to be close to breaking
point. If this final defensive screen fails, then there will be nothing between
the Loyalists and the Edo capital of Wishtan. Remaining elements of the
Presidential Guard have already been mobilised, which gives you an idea of how
serious the situation is.’

The platoon bristled
at the platoon commander’s mention of the Guard. They were the remnants of the
Alliance army, left behind when the colonial power withdrew from Eden. Reforming
after Edo had been granted autonomy, their ranks swelled with fresh recruits,
supposedly orphans taken from the Bosque. The Presidential Guard were infamous
for their ruthlessness, answering directly to the ‘President’ - the
self-appointed dictator who ruled over the province. Compared to the conscripted
soldiers serving in the FEA, Guardsmen were highly-trained, well-equipped and
utterly devoted to their cause. Normally they were used as the president’s
private army, crushing dissent across the province, and recently they had been
the force that terrorised the Paraiso border.  

 ‘Our platoon will
insert in two separate multiples,’ Mr Barkley continued unabated. ‘Blackjack-One-Zero
under my command, and Blackjack-Two-Zero under the sergeant major. Each
multiple will consist of two sections, plus a smaller command group so the
sergeant major and I can move around independently with adequate protection.

The sergeant major’s
multiple, Two-Zero, will insert into the Bosque several hours before us. They
will then move to the north of the river, conducting a river crossing under cover
of darkness. From there they will insert behind the Loyalist lines and attempt
to locate and destroy artillery and anti-aircraft emplacements - an action that
will be mirrored by our sister platoon, Sixth Battalion Recce, in the east.
Once having done so they will conduct their secondary mission, which is to
conduct a recce onto the area surrounding Dakar.

Concurrently, my
multiple will meet with FEA guides to lead us to the front line, where we will
attach ourselves to the Second Dropship Regiment of the FEA. This is a highly
mobile dropship regiment, organised in a similar fashion to our own. From there
we will split down into their companies, though still retaining our ability to
reform as a multiple if the need arises. Each section needs to be prepared to work
independently, with a Presidential Guard liaison officer embedded with them.’

I cursed under my
breath. I was in Mr Barkley’s multiple, so it was my section that would have to
work alongside a Presidential Guard officer.

‘Woah.’ Corporal
Abdi, the other section commander in our multiple, held up a hand. ‘Are you
saying you want me to patrol around the battlefield with a Guardsman stood
right next to me?’

Mr Barkley nodded. ‘That’s
right. This is a rather risky operation, as I’m sure you will agree …’

‘No shit,’ Abdi said,
shaking his head disapprovingly. ‘What’s to stop them shooting us in the back,
or slitting our throats when we sleep? I’m not working with them!’

The room echoed with
disgruntled muttering, but the sergeant major quickly silenced the platoon as
he stormed into the middle of the huddle, eyes blazing.

He pointed with an
outstretched arm, his finger almost touching Abdi on the nose. ‘You’ll do
whatever you’re told! Understand?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Good!’ He scanned
across the sea of glum faces, searching for any more signs of mutiny. ‘You
don’t have to be here! If you want to go let me know now, and I’ll send you
packing back to Paraiso! Anyone?’

The room was silent.
Whether we wanted to work with the FEA or not, we were being presented with the
opportunity to take part in a major operation, and nobody wanted to miss out.
Some of them, like me, just needed to be at the tip of blade for want of
action, excitement or purpose. Others simply took whatever was thrown at them,
just hanging on for the ride. But either way, none of us could bear the thought
of staying in Paraiso while his comrades went into action.

The sergeant major paused
for a few seconds longer. ‘Didn’t think so. Shut up, then, and listen to what
the Boss has to say.’

Mr Barkley nodded.
‘Thank you, Sergeant Major.’

He turned to address
us all. ‘I know exactly what you’re thinking. The Presidential Guard has
embedded its commanders into nearly every FEA unit in order to share their
military knowledge - therefore the battle is orchestrated by them. By having
Guard officers embedded into your section you will have the ability to pass and
receive messages directly from their command, providing them with artillery and
aircraft assets when required.

There are a number of
concerns that will already be running through your heads, one of them being how
far we can trust the units we will be working with - the Guard or the FEA. Even
if they aren’t hostile to us upon arrival, the FEA are not going to be at our
standard. They are conscripts pressed into service, so don’t expect them all to
be good soldiers; that will be a danger in itself. All I can say here is watch
your backs, but at the same time, try not to be too obvious about it. If we offend
these people then we won’t get a thing out of them.’

Abdi spoke up again,
ignoring the sergeant major’s glare. ‘And if they attack us?’

‘Hopefully they
won’t,’ the boss replied. ‘They know that they need us - they can barely hold
onto the river as it is.’

‘But if they do?’ I
asked.

The platoon
commander’s lips tightened. ‘Get out fast.’

‘Jesus,’ somebody
whispered behind me, out of earshot from the sergeant major, ‘this is gonna be
mental.’

‘Yeah,’ another
trooper replied, ‘if one of them wands even looks at me funny them I’m putting
one between his eyes, then I’m off!’

Mr Barkley tapped the
clock on his datapad. ‘Brigade wants us ready to deploy by zero-two-hundred
tomorrow morning, so I appreciate there isn’t much time to prepare your
sections. I make no apologies for the tight timeframe; decisions are being made
elsewhere on the planet that are outside of my control. Timings could be pushed
forward, brought back, or the operation could be canned altogether. The main
effort right now is to ensure that we are ready to go, and prepared for
anything. I will be busy planning more detailed orders for you over the coming
hours. Anticipate being called to receive them this evening, timings to be
confirmed. In the meantime, I am sure that the recce 2ic has a few things that
he wants to have done before we go. Sergeant Major?’

Sergeant Major Davies
strode out into the middle of us, eyeing each trooper in turn with dark,
hawk-like eyes. ‘Right, listen in, men. There isn’t much time, and there’s a
lot to get done. Clearly the nature of this operation requires us to revise our
kit carriage, namely ammunition. You need to be able to operate for an extended
period without replenishment. Consider increasing your ammunition, but try to
maintain a balance between firepower and weight. Remember - if you want it -
you carry it. Section commanders, consider up-scaling your smart missiles and
grenade launcher ammunition in order to increase the punch your section
delivers. A few darts simply won’t cut it if you come up against a Loyalist
company on your own. Also consider sustainability, rations, water and spare
canisters. Don’t rely on resupply, because you may not get it. Aim off for
seven days on your own. Understand?’

We nodded.

‘I will conduct a kit
inspection at …’ he looked down at his datapad, ‘nineteen hundred. That gives
you a few hours to square yourselves away. I want all the kit laid out, with
the 2ics and section commanders prepared to explain what their section is
carrying and why. I want to see that everything works, and I want every battery
at a hundred per cent for every single piece of kit. I’m sure you know the
score by now, you’ve been here long enough.’

I joined in with the
nodded agreement. I liked the way that the sergeant major worked, even if he
didn’t necessarily like the way I did. He allowed for us to plan and organise
our own section kit, so long as we conformed with the requirements dictated by the
task - as well as common sense. A section couldn’t patrol into the Bosque with
only a single magazine each, and they certainly couldn’t carry two days rations
for a seven-day operation, not unless the commander expected to be lynched! The
sergeant major often inspected the sections himself to ensure that we were
correctly administering ourselves, but he was happy as long as a section
commander could justify why he had chosen to pack certain items. It was a more
grown-up way of doing things - far different from the rigid organisation of the
traditional rifle platoons back in battalion - it allowed commanders the
flexibility to apply their own initiative, tailoring their sections to the task
at hand.

The sergeant major
continued. ‘Commanders, ensure your wizard kit is fully functional, and ensure
it goes down to EW to be tested. Just because it worked a few days ago doesn’t
mean that it works now. Any questions?’

There were none. We
all knew what needed to be done.

‘Good. Go.’

There was no time to
waste. The sections quickly dispersed back into the warren, the tunnels filling
with chatter as commanders briefed their men with their own instructions. I
ordered my men to return to their accommodation to check through their own kit,
allowing me time to talk to Puppy about alterations to our equipment.

‘We need to be packed
in a similar fashion to the OP, less the spades and pick axes,’ I explained. ‘I
want to maintain a balance of kit between both fire teams, just in case we end
up breaking down further.’

Unlike regular
dropship sections, recce sections could be broken down into smaller four-man
patrols that acted independently from one another. Although I didn’t like the
idea of working in such a small team in a combat situation, it might be
necessary if I was tasked to conduct a recce patrol up to, or even behind enemy
lines. I had already assessed that the operation was going to be constantly
changing, with us having to second guess what the FEA were going to do next.
Flexibility was key.

Puppy tapped the
screen on his datapad, preparing to take notes. ‘Weapons?’

‘No change to primary
weapons. Two mammoths, five MSGs, plus the sniper rifle …’

‘You mean four MSGs,’
Puppy corrected.

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