Personal
log Lieutenant Brookman.
Third
Platoon, 5th Company, 13th Regiment
Day
1.
Another
campaign, a fresh slate for this thing. We have been shipped to the planet of
Tarsonis, where Tau are trying to take over the place. Though the planetary
guard has managed to keep them away from the main capitol of Korhal, they’ve
allowed them to establish strongpoints along the river of Dachov and especially
in the city of Mar Sara. Word has it we’ll be the shovel used to get rid of
the piles of alien shit. Once they’re out of the way reinforcements will take
over. I just hope this isn’t going to be a long and fragging bloody stalemate.
This afternoon I will commence a standard check up on my platoon and try to get
the request through to get Salena in my squad. It seems the bastards still
don’t trust her. But the hell with it. I’m kinda wondering what these Tau
look like. That bastard Nick is probably already killing them. Yep, those
Kasrkin sure get all the fun stuff while us regulars get to shovel all the shit.
+++
Though
I hate city fighting, though I really like my temporary office in this resort. It has three rooms and a bathroom with a working shower. The main room acts as my office with a large wooden desk and a comfy chair that can turn and has those great squeaky wheels. The second room is a large bedroom with three closets (Like I wear that much clothing?), a very large and comfortable bed, a real improvement over the Guard issue bunks we always use. The third room is
something of a kitchen unit. It has a cooling unit with fresh local foods and
liquors. I’ll try to sneak some to the men, they know what to do with it. The
best thing about the office is that behind my chair is a large balcony which
oversees the portside. This harbour seems to provide the supplies for us and
this city. We had the luxury of being flown in with skimmers. I don’t like the
prospect of spending two days on a stinking ship.
'Ah,
those fragging bastards! My request is denied again!' Salena pads into the
room angrily again. Another request to fight alongside us denied. 'It seems
you’ve got to sit out another one, eh?' I try with a soothing tone. In reply
she takes of a boot and flings it at me, barely missing my head. 'Okay okay
okay! I’m sorry.' I raise my hands in mock surrender and give a big fake smile.
'Hmpf! I’m going to take a shower!' She plods to the farthest door, her
footsteps a odd mix of bare foot and steel sole of the boot. 'Honey, please
don’t slam the-' She enters the room and slams the door shut with a loud
bang. 'Door…' I sigh. Better do something good for a change. I get up and
walk over to the kitchen unit, opening the cooling unit. I randomly pick several bottles and in a moment of interest open one to try it. 'Blargh.' It burns my throat, so this must be good enough for my men. They would drink the blood of a green skin if they were really thirsty. Though getting drunk was not allowed yet, at least they would have liquor in advance. I carefully stuff them in a musette bag and head for the barracks, several floors below.
The barracks are not as pretty looking as my own quarters, nor as luxerous or comfortable. Though I only have to share my own
quarters with a pretty lady, the 54 men of second platoon are in the same hall,
sharing their quarters. Though it sounds all bad, they made the best of it and
are filling their time with weapons maintenance, equipment checks and lazily
playing cards or napping. Weapons are stowed in wooden racks on the wall and
personal equipment dangles from their harness affixed to their bunks. Bronski is busy cleaning his new autogun, stacks of taped together clips on his bunk.
Sergeant Keller was teaching the other NCO’s the art of handling close combat
weapons. Keller makes a move and the others followed his lead. Kinda reminds me off how I was drilled in using my sword, only then I was beaten each time I miscalculated an thrust. Good thing my brother was a towering brute, or else I'd be a bloody pulp from all those mismatches and bad moves. Not that i'm an princess with the sword these days, but thats an whole other story... 'Howdy boys. I’ve got a present for ya’ll.' I open the bag and carefully place the
bottles in the center table. 'This should be the right stuff.' Bronski
picked up a bottle and read the lable. 'This stuff is called Sacra, sounds
really fancy. Sir? Did this stuff burn in your throat?' I cough once in
reply and a hearty laughter comes from the men. They know I can’t hold my hard
liquor. (Much less any type of drink.) But they know better then to call me a wuss, I’ve got a younger brother that’ll beat them up whenever they bully me. But I’ve proven myself in combat several times and they trust me as I trust them. I give a curt nod and head over to the elevator again.
One
done, one to go…
'Honey?'
I knock the door again. Slightly at unease at the negative thought of her
slitting her wrist in the bathtub. But thats just me, the big negative thinker in the army. 'Please! I need some time alone! Leave! Me! Alone!' She shouted as she turned on a radio there. Loud local music screeched out of it. 'Fine!' (Like I enjoy listening to local crap, I always preferred march music more.) I walk over to the couch sit down. But before I could crash down properly there was a slight knock on the door. 'What! Argh… Enter!' I’d just hope that it wasn’t one of the brass at the door. If it was an Colonel... A large armoured
trooper entered the room. 'Am I, interrupting something?' Nick asked. I let
myself drop on the couch and let out my breath in a long sigh. 'That bad huh?'
He produces a sheet of paper and hands it me. 'Orders from tops. But worry
about that later. Dog, what’s the matter this time?' I snort at the remark
of my brother. 'Me? Oh, not much. Salena is denied again for service in the
Guard. And she’s pretty pissed off about that. Topping that I made a bad
choice of words and voila! Instant "domestic dispute" in my office.' Nick
sniggers at me and slowly shakes his head. I leaf through the orders without much attention, only reading the last page containing the summairy. 'Sucker! I told ya to let go of her. Now look at you! In about ten years you’ll be changing diapers of your family and stuck in the family life. I pity you.' I raise a eyebrow in question. 'I need to retake an warehouse over at some place called Pontifex square. But if, I do get to start a family, wouldn’t that mean that I’ll have to leave Guard?' He nods in reply. 'Blast! So much for raising kids as an easy retirement option.' I get up and head for the desk. 'Mail came in from our beloved parents,' I hate them ofcourse, but thats just the opinion of an disgruntled trooper with several syndromes and an burning sensation in his head. 'there’s a package for you though besides the normal letter.' Moments like this, when Nick receives his mail from home he almost seems like the brother I had before I joined the Youth Army. He accepts his mail and carefully tugs it in between his chest armour. There are some things that even brothers keep secret from each other. He nods his thanks and heads for the door. 'I’ve got another mission coming up, gotta hunt down some more aliens. Tomorrow, as you walk through the streets, you’ll see that we’ve done it.' And with those words of bravado he leaves again. I head over to the bedroom and hop on the bed. Humming an pointless tune for a while before turning on my side to sleep. Tomorrow…