LZ Wilderness Patrol
by: Matthew Mason

I smelled the air in the breather as I floated in the water-filled tank just before the Bane attack. It was dry, smelling of rubber, and expensive plastic. I didn't remember why I was here, or even my name. I just remember watching the explosion in the wall behind the console, seeing people scream in horror as the walls collapsed....

"Private Macian, Wake up! That armor may be comfortable, remind you of those straw mats you slept on in the boondocks back home, but we're at your new post. I don't want to have to throw you out of this crate like I did the last sorry sumbitch that pissed his pants before coming to the LZ."

My vision blurred in and out of focus as I woke up. He didn't even wait for me to grab my pack and standard issue AFS Rifle and before I knew it, I was laying belly-up hearing the blast of the transport speed away. "Soldier, you picked one helluva place to die." I thought to myself as I picked up my rifle and gear.

I gathered myself and made it to the barracks. There was no Quartermaster present, and only one available bunk. I set my belongings down.

"Name." I turned, and snapped to attention. I saw a sergeant standing there.

"Private First Class Mattias Macian, sir." I saluted, and handed him my file.

"PFC Macian." I shouldn't have saluted. Six months in Bootcamp after comming to Foreas, fearing and saluting Drill-Sergeants, for they were Gods of War, with spit and polish discipline. Outside of training, you only salute Officers, and refer to only Officers as "Sir." The sergeant didn't even lift his head. He broke the seal on my file, removed a disk, and put it into a hand-held computer.

"Let's see what we have here...." I scrolled through my record. "Says here, that you're first in Class in Hand-To-Hand Combat, Firearms, Advanced Weaponry, and Survival Tactics. Why waste a perfectly good soldier in a crap-hole like this? You have a problem with authority, private?" He sneered at me.

"No Sergeant." I was actually quite obediant by any standard of living, though the outbreak of the war with the Bane meant that the AFS had significantly higher standards. Most military soldiers were clones, bred for following orders, and expendable combat. The "Normal" Humans who were found to be extremely receptive to Logos, a nearly super-natural power developed by the aliens known as the Eloh were deemed VIPs. I was found to be unresponsive, and therefore, expendable.

"Hard to believe that you're no receptive. This last report states, quote "And Private Macian grabbed a Chaingun from a dead soldier, pumped an entire clip into the Thrax Officer, and when it jammed, proceeded to beat the living hell out of it until it stopped moving." Very colourful, Private." He turned and walked out of the door. "Patrol begins tomorrow. You're on point."

I stripped down and tried to sleep. The dream started over again.