His head feels like it is stuffed with cotton wool and there is an uncomfortable pressure against his eyes and nose. A side effect of the combat narcotics swilling in his system, their acid sharp effects petering out as his body winds drown from the exertion. It leaves him feeling sluggish by comparison.
He lies back and gazes up at the ash clogged sky. How long will this war go on? It's how he earns his money, so he thinks he should not complain too much. He might witness a dozen atrocities a day, but his bank balance is all the happier for it. Still, a long conflict can wear a man down. Sometimes a new battlefield can freshen things up.
There's a fleeting temptation to jump system and find some other backwater planet engaged in another pointless proxy war. But then he'd probably end up in the same funk as he is now. Better to stick where you know the getting is good. Or something like that.
Paddy Dobson
6th October 2022