Redliners

By Drake, David

Book Id: WPLBN0000625328
Format Type: PDF eBook:
File Size: 1.26 MB
Reproduction Date: 2004

Title:	Redliners
Author:	Drake, David
Volume:
Language:	English
Subject:	Science fiction, Fantasy & science fiction, Pulp literature
Collections:	Science Fiction Collection, Baen Library Collection
Historic Publication Date:	1996
Publisher:	Baen Publishing Enterprises


Citation APA MLA Chicago Drake, B. D. (1996). Redliners. Retrieved from http://gutenberg.us/

Description
Description: Major Arthur Farrell and the troops of Strike Force Company C41 had seen too much war with the alien Kalendru. They had too many screaming memories to be fit for combat again, but they were far too dangerous to themselves and others to be returned to civilian life. So the troops were sent on one last mission in hopes that they may return to normal civilization.

Summary
Summary: Major Arthur Farrell and his troops were too emotionally tainted and traumatized to be fit to return to civilization, let alone fight another grusome battle. The bureaucracy that administered human affairs arranged a final mission with the same ruthless efficiency as it conducted the war against the Kalendru. C41 would guard a colony being sent to a hell planet. If the troops succeeded, they might be ready to return to human society. When the mission went horribly wrong, Art Farrell and his troops found their lives on the line as never before, protecting civilians to whom bureaucratic injustice was a new experience. And there was one more thing...

Excerpt
Excerpt: Prologue when I entered category 4 of the unity civil service thirty-seven years ago, I gave up my former name and life to become a servant dedicated to all mankind. There are those who say I ceased to be human when as part of the process a computer was embedded in my central nervous system. Excerpt: He wore crossed bandoliers of ammo packs and dangling blast rockets; a medical kit; two supplementary communication units; two knives—one of them powered, the other with a shorter fixed blade that could double as a climbing spike; and a packet of emergency rations. The integral canteen of Farrell’s back-and-breast armor held two quarts of water, but he carried an additional three gallons in a backpack. The weight slowed him and made his armor sag brutally against his shoulders, but the cost was worth it to him. When you’re pinned down in the hot sun, thirst is the worst torture. Worse than the ripping pain of your wound, worse even than the stench of your friend’s half-burned corpse on the ground beside you. Art Farrell knew.