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Authors: Phillip Richards

EDEN (The Union Series)

BOOK: EDEN (The Union Series)
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BOOK THREE IN THE

 UNION SERIES

PHILLIP RICHARDS

 

 

 

 

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Digital edition published in December 2013

 

Copyright 2013 by Phillip Richards

All Rights Reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If
you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an
additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not
purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase
your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook
contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective
opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living
or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the
author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

 

 

Back to the contents page

 

 

Author’s Notes

 

Operations like the one
conducted by Andy's platoon have been more frequent than you might think, and
some military interventions have occurred very recently. Libya is one example
of where foreign governments have provided support assets such as aircraft and
naval artillery to assist an otherwise hopelessly ill-equipped army, as well as
providing tactical and strategic advice on the ground. The recent conflict in
Mali saw French soldiers working hand in hand with the Malian army, multiplying
their capability with helicopters and ground attack aircraft in order to regain
control of the country. Sadly, sometimes soldiers involved in such operations
can work with people they may despise, such as local militia leaders who are
known to abuse children, or openly talk of atrocities they have committed. It
can have a crushing effect on a soldier’s morale, especially when they know
that these people might turn on them at any moment. The world can be a cruel
and wicked place, and no one knows that better than a soldier.

In the book, Andy
Moralee's platoon has a far more aggressive, fighting role than many readers
might expect for a reconnaissance platoon, where contact with the enemy is
meant to be avoided. Clearly that would have made for a far less interesting
book, but there are other reasons why Andy and his men spend much of their time
in combat. Sergeant Major Davies puts it well himself, when he says '… we are the
special forces of the battalion'. This is a true statement, and even on recent
operational tours I can recall recce platoons being used in raids onto drugs
factories by helicopter, arrest operations of high profile insurgents, and many
more tasks that you might expect to be left for Special Forces. Recce platoons
are often composed of the best soldiers in a battalion (though not always the
best behaved), and when they’re not carrying out their more traditional role of
reconnaissance, they can often be used in high risk offensive actions when SF
aren't available. The Union army, large as it is, is spread thinly across the
colonies, and so battalions would often be required to generate their own SF
capability, sourced from their ranks. Such a task would inevitably fall onto
recce platoon and snipers, both of whom often work hand in hand.

The rank structure and
unit organization used in my books reflects that used by the British Army,
mostly because it enables me to write fluidly about something I know well. There
are a couple of things within this that have confused some readers in the past,
particularly those of different nationalities to my own. In the US army, as I
understand it, sections are led by sergeants, with corporals in charge of the
fire teams. In the British Army however, a section is led by a corporal who
controls one fire team, with a second in command - who is often a lance
corporal or ‘lancejack’ - controlling the other. Lance Corporals can often
expect to perform the role of the man above him, and in Andy's case he leads a
section. Although lance corporals are often known as 'glorified privates', he
is anything but!

Many thanks,

Phil

 

Back to the contents page

 

 

Author Bio

 

Phillip Richards was
born and raised in Chichester, south England. He joined the Infantry at the age
of seventeen, and he still serves today. During his service he has taken part
in two operational tours in Kosovo, four in Iraq and a further two in
Afghanistan. He is now a Platoon Sergeant, and he uses what little spare time
he has to pursue his hobby, writing science fiction. This is the third science
fiction novel that he has written, which has been influenced by his service
within the British Army. The story and all of the characters within it are entirely
fictional, however, so if you know him and think that you recognise yourself
for good or bad reasons, you are mistaken!

 

Back to the contents page

 

 

Acknowledgements

 

Thank you to Steven for his fantastic
book cover; it's been a pleasure working with you. To see more of Stevo's work,
visit him on here:
http://steve-o-o-c.deviantart.com

Thank you to Colin at
The Electronic Book Company for publishing my work so close to Christmas and
thank you to my editor, Kimberley, for her assistance in finalising my work.

Thank you to my family,
and of course my wife, for their constant love and support over this very busy
year. It's been wild but it worked out alright in the end!

Thank you to my readers
for their support, encouragement and their patience. Without you I would
probably never have finished this book.

Thank you to my platoon
for providing me with inspiration and for not getting into too much trouble
over the year!

Finally, as ever, thank
you to all the brave men and women who serve in their nations’ armed forces,
and who stand in the face of terror when others would turn and run. You are an
inspiration to the world.

 

Back to the contents page

 

 

Introduction

 

Eden's beauty was
testament to a centuries-old dream to turn a barren, rocky world into a
paradise where mankind could live in peace. But Eden wasn't paradise. Torn
apart by decades of colonial rivalry, the provinces were deeply divided, and as
two rogue provinces begin yet another bitter fight, the Union is forced to step
in before they go too far, causing the entire planet to descend into war.

Andy Moralee finds
himself quickly sucked into the conflict, and nothing could have prepared him
for the depths that humanity had sunk to out in the forest - where loyalty was
achieved at the end of a gun. Ordered to ally with one side of Eden’s warring
factions, he fears he now has two enemies to watch.

In a desperate moment,
Andy must choose between his mission and the only thing that separates him from
the evil that lives in the forest … his soul.

 

 

Please note:
  This
book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings and
word usage vary slightly from U.S. English. We know from reviews of
professionally edited books, that these differences can sometimes be wrongly
interpreted as typographical errors.

Back to the contents
page

 

 

The OP

 

I stared at the image
displayed on my datapad in disbelief. There was no mistaking the hostile nature
of the figures emerging from the mist that hung between the trees and shrouded
the valley. Civilians didn’t patrol in formation, keeping ten to fifteen metre
spaces between each man, and turning purposefully to observe their arcs.
Neither did they carry weapons; certainly not like the ones that these figures
were carrying. I struggled to identify exactly what equipment they carried
through the mist, but I could still see that they were heavily armed.

‘Shit …’ I breathed,
the curse sounding so much louder in the tight confines of our tiny underground
observation post. They were coming straight toward us.

Lying so close that
his body pressed against mine, Myers blinked nervously as he studied the
approaching patrol on my datapad I wore on my wrist. ‘Loyalists?’ he asked.

I glanced up at him
in the dark, irritated by the stupidity of the young trooper’s question. Of
course they were Loyalists - the Free Edo Army had withdrawn from the area days
ago. For a second I considered a harsh response, but then thought better of it.
Now wasn’t the time to get the hump with my blokes. We were in trouble.

I kicked at the legs
of the other half of my fire team - Gritt and Skelton - who had slept behind
us, blissfully unaware of the approaching menace.

‘Stand to!’ I hissed.
Although I couldn’t see the two troopers lying behind me, I sensed their bodies
brace. There was no room for them to move around or prepare their kit, not that
there was much of a need to do so - for the last few days they had slept
wearing it.

Anxiously watching
the patrol approach on my datapad, I wondered if the OP had been compromised.
Perhaps somebody had spotted ground sign accidentally left after we had dug it
out, or maybe we had left a gap in our thermal sheeting, allowing our body heat
to warm the soil and plants we had placed on top, just enough for sensitive
equipment to pick us up.

Had we left too much
electrical equipment switched on? Often only one of the three cameras we had
placed out were ever active, and even then they only communicated by optical
cable plugged directly into my datapad. I discarded the idea that our equipment
had given us away. Each camera and optical cable were dug in and well
camouflaged, as was the OP. It would take a crack electronic warfare team with
a state of the art scanner several hours to pick them up, and even then they
would have to already know where to look.

‘There’s no way they
know we’re here,’ Myers whispered, sounding as though he was trying to convince
himself as much as he was me.

I nodded my
agreement. It was entirely possible that they did know our whereabouts, but highly
unlikely. We had built the OP several days ago - long before the Loyalists had
arrived in the area. The only people nearby were the inhabitants of Aasha, a
small village that nestled in the valley base below us, and even if they had
seen us constructing the OP in the dead of night, they certainly wouldn’t tell
anyone. The village was well within the Edo province, so they were hardly on our
side, but under the circumstances we were probably the best friends they had.
Edo was an old Alliance province, and one of the many rogue states on Eden. The
people of Edo hated the Union, but the Loyalists, pouring south from their home
province of Europa, were far more dangerous than any Union trooper.  

I began to question
the thought process that led to my decision to inadvertently place the OP right
in the patrol’s path. I had chosen not to place us right at the top of the
valley, deeming it too risky. Although the elevated position would have given
us a perfect view into the wide valley base, it was an obvious location that
any approaching enemy would watch closely. I also didn’t want to place it too
far down, not necessarily because it reduced our field of view, but more
because it would be too close to the roads and maglev rails frequently used by
the villagers. It was also the route I had expected the enemy to use, sticking
to the low ground where the forest was thickest, and where the cold morning
mist blinded our thermal imaging.

I shook my head,
angry at myself. How wrong I had been. They weren’t going to walk right along
the low ground. Like us, they would avoid obvious routes, expecting the
villagers to place out defences, including victim operated devices, in
anticipation of their arrival.

‘What do you think
they’re doing?’ Myers whispered quietly.

I shook my head, not
lifting my gaze from the datapad. ‘I don’t know. They don’t know we’re here.’

‘I’m not so sure,
now. They’re coming right at us.’

He was right. The
point man of the patrol, now no more than twenty metres away, was coming right
toward our position. It was as though he knew exactly where we were.

‘No,’ I said after a
seconds thought, ‘would you want to patrol up to an enemy position in that formation?’

Myers blinked as he considered
the question. He was only a private, and a young one at that, known
affectionately as ‘Blinky’ within the section because he would often blink when
nervous or when he was asked a question. Despite his excessive blinking, he had
been chosen for recce because he was one of the best privates in his battalion,
and had been sent to Eden because he was one of the best privates on his recce
course on Uralis. He understood how to command a section almost as well as some
section commanders.

If the patrol knew
that we were ahead of them, they wouldn’t be patrolling in single file, only
able to bring a single weapon to bear effectively. A more aggressive formation
would be used to clear the ground in front, such as an extended line. Some
would cover whilst others moved, and weapons would be raised ready to fire. They
wouldn’t just bowl up to us like they barely had a care in the world.

‘So what are they up
to?’ Myers asked finally.

‘I don’t know …’

My brow furrowed as I
tried to understand what was leading our unwanted guests directly onto our
position. Was it simply coincidence?

As they drew nearer I
studied the patrol more closely. There were at least eight of them, though more
might be hidden in the mist. They wore the distinctive green and brown
camouflage of the Loyalists and a standard set of protective equipment not
dissimilar from our own: body armour, helmets, visors and respirators. By all
accounts they looked like professional soldiers, and not like the ragtag band
of rebels they were made out to be back in the Union-held Paraiso province. It
was their weapons that concerned me - I counted four magnetic machine guns, and
every other soldier carried a smart launcher, capable of firing a missile that
was arguably far smarter than the man who fired it. There was nothing odd about
the weapons themselves, it was simply the amount of them. This patrol had some
serious firepower.

Something caught Myers’s
eye, and he tapped a finger lightly against my datapad screen. ‘What’s that?’

I zoomed in on the
shape in the mist, just at the rear of the patrol. One of the figures was far
larger than his comrades, and was moving in an almost unnatural manner.

‘Shit the bed …’ I
cursed, realising what I was looking at with a wince.

‘What is it?’ Gritt,
one of the two troopers behind me asked loudly, but was quickly silenced by a
kick from Myers. Though there was nothing wrong with them wanting to know what
was going on, too much noise risked our position being compromised.

‘It’s a suit,’ I whispered
in reply.

‘You’re jesting.’

‘Afraid not.’

There was no doubt in
my mind. I had seen ‘suits’ during my training as a young recruit, and had
again been shown them upon my arrival to Eden. A suit was a weapon favoured by
the Alliance and the Russians, also known as ‘power armour’. It was an ape-like
machine designed to respond to the movements of the human operator inside it.
The idea was simple enough - the suit was essentially a highly mobile heavy
weapons platform with a sophisticated targeting system, controlled by the
ultimate combat computer – a human being.

The suit was carrying
a railgun and Vulcan cannon attached to both of its arms, as well as a series
of smart launchers attached to its shoulders. It was an impressive assortment
of weapons - far more than dismounted infantry could bring to the table - but
it was still small and agile enough to move through the trees with little
difficulty.

‘They’re getting
close now,’ Myers warned, his voice barely a whisper. Our headsets could
magnify sounds many times over, but so could those worn by the Loyalists. The
layer of earth above us might prevent us from being heard, but it wasn’t worth
the risk.

I deactivated the
camera, cutting the feed to my datapad and plunging us into darkness. My
respirator visor instantly changed viewing modes, favouring thermal imaging due
to the lack of any form of light. It made little difference - in our tiny hole
there was nothing to look at.

I considered
contacting my second OP, an identical underground position located several
hundred metres behind us and commanded by my section 2ic, but thought better of
it. As soon as I did so we would almost certainly be detected. Once that
happened there would be no turning back - we would have to emerge from our hide
and fight our way out. Hopefully they would have already picked up the Loyalist
patrol with their own OP cameras and electronic scanner, and so they would know
what was happening anyway.

We lay there in
silence, straining our ears to listen for approaching footsteps vibrating
through the soil. I suddenly felt as though the walls were closing in around us,
for there was nowhere for us to go, not without breaking onto the surface.
Suddenly the OP felt more like a grave.

‘Fuck this shit …’
Myers uttered under his breath, just before I jabbed him with my elbow.

We waited anxiously.
Every piece of non-essential electronic equipment had been deactivated. The
powerful magnets in our rifles were powered down and our communications
equipment was set to passive mode, capable of receiving messages only, and even
that had to be critical. We didn’t know what electronic warfare equipment the
patrol carried, but if they had a scanner even remotely similar to ours, then
they would spot any nearby electronic activity with relative ease. I wasn’t
taking any chances.

I tried to breathe
slowly, willing my respirator motors to be as quiet as possible. The Loyalists
were right on top of us. I could hear the sound of boots trampling through the undergrowth
and then held my breath, hoping that the logs we had used to support the roof
would hold the weight of anyone who might walk straight over it. It was
unlikely for somebody to fall through; we had tested the strength of the roof ourselves
during our construction of the OP. It was possible to walk right over the top
of us without ever even knowing that we were there. But it wasn’t the Loyalist
soldiers that worried me, it was the suit. The thing had to weigh in well over
a tonne - far more weight than the OP roof could take. If it stepped on us, not
only would we be compromised, we’d also be squashed into a bloody mess in the
process.

I tried to count each
Loyalist soldier as he passed within metres of the OP, my spirits slowly
building as I realised that they hadn’t noticed us. It didn’t necessarily mean that
we were safe, though, I reminded myself. Even if we weren’t found, there was
still the rear OP that housed the remainder of my eight-man patrol. I
desperately wanted to contact them in order to send warning, but knew that as
soon as I activated the section net to communicate, then the game would be up.

They’re as well
concealed as us, I reassured myself, and if I can’t trust them to know what to
do,
then I can’t trust anyone
.

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