2058
Neutral District, Col
D1-6: STNDBY
What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing, sir? Hellick thought.
The blinking letters appeared as if they had been lasered into crystal. Crisp and translucent, they gave off the faintest red hue along their etched edges. The text box hung on the left side of his visor screen. The tactical overlays and data that normally filled the rest of his visor had been filtered out for the moment.
He knew his bitterness had nothing to do with his lieutenant’s orders.
Sitting with his grenade launcher standing between his knees, Hellick Primus appeared calm. His hands were steady, folded on the weapon’s butt, his Paw boots still on the armored flooring, and his head was leaned back so that his helmet rested against a mounted ammunition can. Despite his outward tranquility, he was glad his helmet’s tactical visor was down. His face was slick with sweat.
Hellick firmly reminded himself, An Axi NCO is a rock. I am a professional. I do not show emotion…
After a moment, he added Don’t let them see your nerves.
Hellick forced himself to do his pre-combat breathing exercises. Inhale. Hold. Hold. Exhale. He could feel his shoulders slump beneath his tactical vest. He had not realized that they had been in a pinching shrug since sitting down.
Hellick tried not to think about what was coming. He knew the imagination would create far worse scenarios than anything his people were about to face. Worse though, he tried not to think of home. It was an impossible dilemma. Here they sat, ready, feeling trapped in the back of an APC. For close to two hours, first and second squads had been waiting to execute what had taken over a year to prepare for. Intense hyper-simulations, the secret deployment, the month of waiting in a warehouse, hoping not to be discovered before this night…leaving his family.
Bellina.
He shook her from his mind. He could not afford to think about his wife, or his two sons. They were a painful distraction. Right now, he could only focus on this family and keeping them alive. Turning his head to the right, Hellick looked down the line of ten troopers, all suffering as he was in their own way. Right then, these were his only children. In the next few moments, they would all be looking to Hellick to keep them alive, and he could not afford the drugging indulgence of remembering his other family. For the time, Hellick had to forget them. He drowned out the last moments he had shared with them. He hid their faces as if they never existed. He buried them.
In the steady drone of the armored personnel carrier’s idling engine, Hellick ignored Falx Primus Priori beside him, as he fidgeted with his tactical kit.
I set the tempo for their emotions, he recited to himself, If I tip, they fall. If they think I’m anxious, they’ll wonder why, creating doubt; doubt turns to fear. Fear is the enemy.
Hellick sat across from Second Squad’s NCO, Ruddic Primus, close enough that their knees touched. Ruddic was also a veteran. Hellick smiled to himself beneath his visorits subdued surface hiding his expression. Ruddic’s doing the exact same thing. He’s hiding any signs that the waiting is digging at him.
Both the men knew that the greatest thing they could do for their squads, lined in tight rows beside them, was to appear calm, almost sedated. The stretching wait was hell. The squads were locked in a perpetual state of anticipation. The glowing standby command a gouging reminder that at any moment, the soft red letters could shift to green, and their wait would be over.
Choke me, he closed his eyes again, trying to steady his breathing, I would kill to be able to smoke. Fuck, I’d kill for just two puffs.
The visor blinked again: STNBY