Unit 977068

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DoubleThink
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Unit 977068

Post by DoubleThink »

This is the story of Unit 977068, inspired by a few different works, including just a bit from TCoN, and a fair bit from Ender's Game.

Anyway, without further ado, here it is, in its partial completion. More will be posted as more is finished.

It's a good job. It keeps you interested, you travel, you meet plenty of people. Of course, you kill most of those people, but it's a fair trade. I couldn't stand to do anything else. Though I wouldn't recommend it to anybody, they just wouldn't last.

Between vague memories and what I've been told, I was born in Neu Silesia, to parents who couldn't afford me. The simplest solution was to leave me on the street. I was found by generous people. They took me in, but could barely afford to keep us alive. I lived in the streets. I played with the other children in the ghetto. Until the crackdown, of course. Someone up top decided it was bad for the nation's aura to have people in rags living on the streets. Everybody got shipped off to different places. It wasn't actually that bad, most families stayed together, and were paid handsomely to colonize new planets.

Of course, I have no real experience with that. Since I had no genetic ties with anybody on the streets, I got left behind.

A man in a highly decorated military suit stepped into the alleyway.

“Excuse me, mister, are you alone?”

“What's it to you?” I said, still seething from separation from my family.

“I'm sorry to bother you. I'm assuming you don't have a home anymore. Is that true?”

“Why?”

“I have orders to terminate any unwanted population still residing on the streets. How old are you?”

“Seven. Almost eight.”

“You speak very well.”

“What do you care?”

“What is your name, son?”

“None of your business.”

The man opened up a small electronic device, and pressed a few buttons.

“Unit 977068. You have no name now. Son, I hate to do this to you, but you are now a recruit in the Waffenkraefte der Teutonische Republik. You are either to follow orders and begin training or be shot for insubordination.”

“I don't have a choice.”

“I don't have a choice, sir. Recruit, from this point forward, I will have nothing to do with your military education. But I will teach you one thing. You always have a choice. You always have options. Much of the time, however, your alternatives will be downright unacceptable. Sometimes you'll have to invent an alternative. So, you have two options. Raumwaffe or the bullet.”

“What if I were to tell you to go suck on it?”

“That's the bullet, Recruit. Any other ideas?”

My mind raced with ways to escape the military. The Republik was involved in all sorts of wars with invasions and counterattacks, joining the military was like playing Russian Roulette.

“No, sir. I'll join.”

The man pulled out his device and fiddled with it. It ejected a small piece of paper. He handed it to me.

“The address is the nearest base. Your ID is on this paper, and the barcode is my authorization signature. You're very lucky to have this option, not many people your age are accepted into the Raumwaffe.” He laughed. “Take it to the base, and they'll get you outfitted.”

I scanned over the paper. Planet 2293.

“What's this?” I said, pointing to it.”

“That's your destination. Where you're going for training. Recruit, you have your orders now. You're expected at the base by the end of the day. Farewell.”

The man walked out of the alleyway, leaving me with my little paper that was my life now.

There is no greater joy than your first super-orbital experience. I had been put in a uniform, and rocketed into space to rendezvous with a interstellar transport. I hardly remember the details now, it was terrifying euphoria. The only thing I remember was climbing into the cockpit and meeting the pilots. They showed me the radar. To our left, just over a kilometer away, was a cruiser, kilometers in length. They opened a window for me to see. I was terrified and amazed. The sheer power of it, stark white, standing implacable in front of the planet, a deadly warning to all those who would try the Republik. It was a epiphany for me.
I had met the Raumwaffe and I was part of it.

As my flights changed and I got closer to Planet 2293, more and more children were passengers. I didn't talk to any, I just listened. There was one who was sent because his parents wanted him to learn discipline. He'd serve the minimum two years service, and get out without a scratch. Nobody under 18 was allowed on the front. There was another who enlisted to run away from his family. He had a few visible bruises. His number was 99084. His name was Matt, he said. I told him I didn't have a name, not that I'd remember it now if I did. I learned a lot. Most people on the ship had no real drive to do well. They were all there for adventure or because someone sent them. I was here because I had run out of options. This was it. I erased my name from my memory, and committed to my number.
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