LANCEJACK (The Union Series) Read Online Free PDF

damned if I sat in the platoon lines
twiddling my thumbs while my platoon brought in casualties.
    A
team of medics were already crowding around a trolley inside one of the lock
rooms, prepping life support equipment and consulting the data holograms
projected over it.
    One
of them noticed my arrival, ‘What do you want, mate?’
    It
was more of a challenge than a question.
    ‘That’s
my platoon coming in,’ I said.
    The
medic was firm, ‘Mate, all I want you to do is stay well back. Understand?’
    I
simply nodded. I knew that medics could be blunt, they didn’t care about
anything except keeping their man alive. I wasn’t in a position to argue.
    ‘Lock’s
cycling,’ one of the medics announced as the light above the lock door changed
from red to amber, causing a flurry of activity.
    ‘I’m
not getting any vital signs, their pads aren’t sending info!’
    ‘Okay.
Warn off the surgeons!’
    I
watched the lock door light, willing it to change quickly so that the injured
trooper on the other side could be brought in to be treated before it was too
late.
    Finally
the lock door slid open, and four troopers burst into the lock room with a
laden stretcher.
    ‘Get
him on the trolley, on the trolley!’ The medics virtually snatched the
stretcher away from the four troopers and quickly placed it onto the trolley.
Holograms lit around him in a sudden explosion of light, indicating injuries
and other issues with the casualty for all to see.
    The
man on the stretcher was in a horrible mess, each of his limbs were bandaged in
some way and gaping wounds to his abdomen were stuffed with quick-clot foam. He
was soaked in blood. Several sealing patches had been stuck to his respirator
visor where it had cracked enough to let the toxic air in.
    ‘Where’s
his datapad?’
    One
of the troopers, a lance corporal, flicked his head toward the lock door, ‘Out
there. We had to remove it to get to his arm.’
    The
troopers looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically.
    ‘Well
what the fuck is it doing out there?’
    The
team of medics didn’t wait for the reply, once the stretcher was secure on the
trolley they were off, wheeling it down one of the ramps away from the lock
rooms and down to the medical centre one floor below.
    The
inner lock door closed and the light changed to red, meaning that the rest of
the platoon would be coming in. I fidgeted awkwardly while the four troopers
panted, barely aware that I was there. One of them walked slowly to the far
wall and sat himself down, ripping his respirator from his face. He started to
cry quietly.
    The
lance corporal looked around himself as if he were lost, then he frowned as he
saw me, ‘Who are you?’
    ‘Andy
Moralee, new lancejack,’ I said, ‘I just thought I’d come up to try to help.’
    ‘There’s
nothing you can do here,’ his tone was harsh.
    ‘No.’
    The
lance corporal turned away from me and to his men, ‘Unload your weapons, lads.
Let’s go. Okonkwo, pick yourself up, snap out of it.’
    The
trooper who had been crying wiped the tears from his eyes and joined his
comrades in a line ready to unload. As he did so he shot me a hateful look, one
I recognised straight away. It was the look of someone who had been somewhere
and experienced something I hadn’t. It was almost irrational, he didn’t care
where I might have been and what I might have done, all he knew was that his
mate had been seriously hurt, and I hadn’t been there.
    The
lock door slid open just as I considered leaving, and the rest of the platoon
piled into the lock room. NCOs angrily shouted instructions at their men, who
were clearly in shock after seeing one of their mates so badly injured. I
remembered how well-organised they had been when they left the warren two days
ago and the difference was impossible to ignore. Whatever happened, they’d had
a hard time out there.
    ‘Let’s
go,’ Mr Moore shouted as the sections were lined up to unload, ‘NCOs check over
your blokes, make