C.R.O.W. (The Union Series) Read Online Free Page A

accepted.’ I told myself I would follow his
words to the letter.
    Suddenly the
compartment lights switched on, blinding me with their intensity. I covered my
face with my hands as the shuttle AI spoke over the intercom with an almost
mockingly cheerful voice and a strong German accent.
    ‘Ladies and
gentlemen, welcome aboard challenger! The time onboard is 0400 hours. Please
wait while the docking procedure completes, this may take a few minutes.’
    The
compartment filled then with the groans of troopers unimpressed by their rude
awakening, straining against their straps in an attempt to stretch their limbs.
    As if
anticipating what the lads in the compartment would surely attempt next, the AI
added, ‘Please may I remind all personnel that it is not permitted to remove
your safety harness until the docking procedure is complete.’
    ‘Yeah, thanks
for that one,’ somebody moaned sarcastically, followed by the sound of buckles
being unfastened.
    ‘Somebody
tell that robot to ram it, I need a few more hours!’
    ‘Yeah, let’s
do a lap round the planet or something.’
    I smiled at
the absurdity of the last comment. Of course we had no choice in the matter,
not anymore anyway. Sign up to the dropship infantry and you choose not to have
a choice.
    A chime and a
light at the far end of the crew compartment announced that we were allowed to
remove our straps and I quickly unbuckled myself, flexing unused muscles and
massaging aching joints. Uralis had added years onto my body, and sometimes I
felt more like a middle-aged man than an eighteen-year-old boy. We stood and it
felt good to feel gravity working against my bones again, even if I did know
that it wasn’t the real thing - like on Earth. Although I had learnt to handle
zero-G without puking all over the place, it always reminded me how far from
home I really was.
    ‘Ladies and
gentlemen, we are successfully docked with Challenger, please ensure you
collect your equipment when you disembark, or you will not see it again.’
    ‘No ladies on
here!’
    ‘No gents,
either!’
    I ignored the
moans and rants of the other recruits, disconnecting my sausage bag from the
straps that held it in place beneath my seat, straps that  prevented it from
bouncing around the compartment in the event of decompression. I had always
thought it quite ridiculous, none of us were given suits, so decompression -
however unlikely - meant certain death anyway. Who gave a stuff about things
bouncing around or shooting out of the crew compartment?
    I slung the
bag over my shoulder. It could be no heavier than 10 kilos, the maximum
permissible weight a passenger could bring aboard a military shuttle. It had
been weighed to the milligram, and searched thoroughly for bacteria somehow
smuggled accidentally from Earth - or worse – contraband goods. Heaven forbid I
be in possession of beer or pornography before I go to my death, and how I
would have gotten it to Uralis anyway was beyond me!
    I carried
very little in my sausage bag, most of the kit and equipment I had used in
training had been taken off of me on Uralis before I left. A new set of
equipment would be issued to me aboard Challenger, equipment more specific to
where we were going. I travelled light, as was the norm in the Union military.
To be exact, I carried 8.4529 kilograms. That was the weight of everything I
owned, minus the clothes I wore on my back.
    ‘Nervous?’
Peters, a London lad who had been in my section in training, picked up his own
sausage bag from where it had sat next to mine.
    ‘Nah,’ I
lied, ‘Can’t be any worse than Uralis!’
    Peters raised
an eyebrow and chuckled, ‘I sure hope you’re right, man,’ he patted my arm, ‘Hopefully
we end up in the same platoon.’
    I nodded, and
I hoped beyond hope he was right. Peters was the only lad from my training
section who had been sent to Challenger, the others had all been sent
elsewhere. There was nobody else on the shuttle I knew or got on with