Boot camp never prepared you for the waiting.
That's the worst part, really. Not the battle itself, when the adrenaline is pumping and your objectives are clear - but the long, endless waiting for something to happen. In those hours and sometimes even days, your mind works overtime, imagining every possible scenario in which you leave this wretched place maimed or killed.
Your hands, numb from exposure to the cold, grip your phaser rifle even tighter. You wish that you could bite your fingers, not out of a desire to hurt, but to feel. Whatever trees had once been here have long since been stripped away by the endless shelling. The wind whips through the narrow valley unopposed, only adding to the misery that you feel.
You breathe out, shallowly, not wanting to leave too big of a puff, out of fear that the enemy will see it and react. The sergeant has warned you about this, because you're new. The veterans, who largely ignore you because you haven't paid your dues yet, already know this, but they have no interest in telling you anything. Until you've been through your first battle, you're not worth their time.
Risking detection, you look furtively left and right. All along the shallow depression, you see other men and women much like yourself. You envy their calmness, their resolve. You wish that you had even a bit of it and hate yourself that you don't.
You're scared.
You never wanted to admit that until now. Before you had come here, when you had been yourself, you had played tough and mighty. Once you had arrived, your life as you knew it was over. The first sight of a broken and mangled body had robbed you of any bravado.
The sergeant crawls along the length of your cover, checking in with each soldier to make sure that they're prepared. He spends extra time with you, and you're grateful for it. When he pats you on the shoulder and tells you that everything will be all right, you want so badly to believe him.
When the sergeant leaves, you feel more alone than ever before. Even though there is another soldier not three feet away, he might as well be on another planet for all the good he can do you right now. You want to talk, to crack a joke or do anything to interrupt the endless, maddening silence. But of course, that is forbidden. Even if nothing bad came of it, you would probably get in trouble later for risking the mission.
It is quiet for a long time before you finally see them. They're small, but visible. They come towards you, stumbling uncertainly over the broken ground. As they grow larger, you lean into your phaser, sighting up the lead Cardassian in the column.
He is alert, but those behind him are like you. They're young men, and like you they have been more concerned with their own misery than in following their training.
You want desperately to shoot - they're getting too close. But the sergeant was clear, he would fire the first shot.
The lead soldier scans the ground in front of him. You watch him intently. For a terrifying moment, you think that he sees you, but then his eyes move and you realize that you are safe.
When the first phaser discharges, it startles you. The lead Cardassian jerks awkwardly and falls backwards, his legs kicking comically into the air. Without thinking, you begin to fire. You aren't even aiming, just shooting. You hear screaming, but you can't tell if it's coming from the enemy or your own comrades. You bury your face in the dirt, but keep firing.
As the Cardassians scramble vainly for cover, they begin to shoot back. As their amber beams fly over your head, you wet yourself. Despite the circumstances, you can't help but realize the absurdity - for the first time in many hours, you are warm.
You keep firing. After a while, your battery pack runs dry, but you keep pulling the trigger. Even though the Cardassians lie in ragged piles on the frozen ground before you, you keep firing nothing at nothing.
After a while, the sergeant lays a comforting hand over yours, and you realize that it's over. You look up, exalted with your first victory.
The sergeant smiles back at you tightly, "Easy, kid," he tells you, and you feel embarrassed, feeling the eyes of everyone else on you. "You did alright."
That's the worst part, really. Not the battle itself, when the adrenaline is pumping and your objectives are clear - but the long, endless waiting for something to happen. In those hours and sometimes even days, your mind works overtime, imagining every possible scenario in which you leave this wretched place maimed or killed.
Your hands, numb from exposure to the cold, grip your phaser rifle even tighter. You wish that you could bite your fingers, not out of a desire to hurt, but to feel. Whatever trees had once been here have long since been stripped away by the endless shelling. The wind whips through the narrow valley unopposed, only adding to the misery that you feel.
You breathe out, shallowly, not wanting to leave too big of a puff, out of fear that the enemy will see it and react. The sergeant has warned you about this, because you're new. The veterans, who largely ignore you because you haven't paid your dues yet, already know this, but they have no interest in telling you anything. Until you've been through your first battle, you're not worth their time.
Risking detection, you look furtively left and right. All along the shallow depression, you see other men and women much like yourself. You envy their calmness, their resolve. You wish that you had even a bit of it and hate yourself that you don't.
You're scared.
You never wanted to admit that until now. Before you had come here, when you had been yourself, you had played tough and mighty. Once you had arrived, your life as you knew it was over. The first sight of a broken and mangled body had robbed you of any bravado.
The sergeant crawls along the length of your cover, checking in with each soldier to make sure that they're prepared. He spends extra time with you, and you're grateful for it. When he pats you on the shoulder and tells you that everything will be all right, you want so badly to believe him.
When the sergeant leaves, you feel more alone than ever before. Even though there is another soldier not three feet away, he might as well be on another planet for all the good he can do you right now. You want to talk, to crack a joke or do anything to interrupt the endless, maddening silence. But of course, that is forbidden. Even if nothing bad came of it, you would probably get in trouble later for risking the mission.
It is quiet for a long time before you finally see them. They're small, but visible. They come towards you, stumbling uncertainly over the broken ground. As they grow larger, you lean into your phaser, sighting up the lead Cardassian in the column.
He is alert, but those behind him are like you. They're young men, and like you they have been more concerned with their own misery than in following their training.
You want desperately to shoot - they're getting too close. But the sergeant was clear, he would fire the first shot.
The lead soldier scans the ground in front of him. You watch him intently. For a terrifying moment, you think that he sees you, but then his eyes move and you realize that you are safe.
When the first phaser discharges, it startles you. The lead Cardassian jerks awkwardly and falls backwards, his legs kicking comically into the air. Without thinking, you begin to fire. You aren't even aiming, just shooting. You hear screaming, but you can't tell if it's coming from the enemy or your own comrades. You bury your face in the dirt, but keep firing.
As the Cardassians scramble vainly for cover, they begin to shoot back. As their amber beams fly over your head, you wet yourself. Despite the circumstances, you can't help but realize the absurdity - for the first time in many hours, you are warm.
You keep firing. After a while, your battery pack runs dry, but you keep pulling the trigger. Even though the Cardassians lie in ragged piles on the frozen ground before you, you keep firing nothing at nothing.
After a while, the sergeant lays a comforting hand over yours, and you realize that it's over. You look up, exalted with your first victory.
The sergeant smiles back at you tightly, "Easy, kid," he tells you, and you feel embarrassed, feeling the eyes of everyone else on you. "You did alright."
