Osdal (Harmony War Series Book 3)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Activate,” he said, unable to move his hands to do anything but throw himself forward.

  The implants sent a signal to the incendiary charge he’d slapped onto the pack. It melted through the pack, reaching the rounds inside, and it went off like the universe’s grenade.

  Mark was tossed forward, shrapnel peppering him. He landed a few meters from the cryo-bunker and felt arms grab him and haul him in. The hatch shut behind him and he heard the whine of auto-turrets opening up on the Chosen that had survived his pack’s explosion.

  Mark felt someone opening his helmet; he was feeling funky from breaking his body and the augments effects were wearing off.

  “God dammit, can you try to make the explosion bigger next time?” Jerome complained, opening the armor to get to Mark’s body underneath. He had a medical kit in his hands.

  “I will if you and every goddamn medic stops stabbing me with fucking needles!” Mark whispered. He found it hard to focus, and pain started beating out the pain killers.

  Jerome made an unhappy face but laughed as he went to work, stabbing those needles into Mark.

  “Give the man some room people,” Captain Sook said, her voice strong and commanding. The shadows behind Jerome moved away.

  “Good job Warrant.”

  “Ah, had to make sure that you lot got home safe,” Mark said, sighing.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was less Captain Sook and more the woman underneath it. She knew how close she had come to getting shot in the back, if not for Mark’s actions.

  “All in a day’s work, now if you don’t mind I think my good buddy Jerome here is going to let me pass out.”

  “No such luck, your head looks like you put it in a machine press and the concussion’s going to be a mean one. I can treat it, but I can’t give you the all clear until a real medic goes over you,” Jerome said.

  Mark sighed and settled into his armor, knowing that they had left all of the medics in the tower above them. They had been going on a suicide mission and medics were too important to lose.

  “Okay, just get me able to fight,” Mark said, the light tone of moments ago turning serious. He still might die today, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be on his back.

  Jerome and Mark made eye contact.

  “I got you buddy,” Jerome said, reassuring him.

  “Thanks man.” Mark looked at the ceiling. Jerome was checking out his hands, thankfully he had some numbers working as he started putting him back together.

  Mark felt eyes on him, he turned to find Tyler and Alexis looking at him. He gave them a smile and a wink, looking back to the ceiling, realizing that if he had died it would have torn his friends apart.

  Guilt welled up in him, unbidden. He wanted to shake it off, thinking that it didn’t matter if he lived or died. But he saw Jerome working on him and felt the care in Mark and Alexis’ eyes, and he couldn’t push those thoughts away.

  He thought of the rest of his old platoon, thinking about losing any of them.

  He sighed; he didn’t need anyone to berate him on his actions. He already felt like an idiot.

  ***

  Moretti looked to the sky as his implants alerted him to the incoming ordinance. A group of sleek looking meteors was arching overhead.

  He watched them wishing they would hurry the hell up. The powered armor Troopers were still locked in the cryo-bunker under central tower, and there wasn’t any way that they were going to get out of there without killing all of the PACs in their way.

  The auto-cannons that were in every cryo-pod bunker were currently keeping the Chosen back, but they wouldn’t hold forever. The Chosen were getting their hits in, and two of the four weapon systems were already broken.

  You don’t even know if this will help them. The PACs could all be sealed up and they won’t get anything in there. Sure, it might get the regular Chosen, but the PACs are another story…

  His worries made him make noises with his breath as he wished those missiles would just hurry the hell up.

  Major Ortiz opened a channel with Moretti.

  “Major?” Moretti said, his voice tight with concern, wondering if something had happened to the Troopers locked in the cryo-pods. He checked his implants to see that they were still okay.

  “M, I am hearing that you called in the ordinance coming towards Mining City Twenty-One,’ he stated.

  “Yes sir,” Moretti said, waiting for Ortiz to spell out his question.

  “What the hell are they?”

  “Biologicals. From what I’ve heard you experienced a similar kind of weapon on Sacremon.”

  “Ah shit, do we have the immunization?’ Ortiz started to sound panicked.

  “All of the Troopers and EMF personnel have the immunization.”

  “Good,” Ortiz said, grim. “Damned dirty way to do things.”

  “Yes, but it will save Troopers’ lives and allow us to go and fight in places where there are civilians.” Moretti didn’t understand the Troopers’ ethos. They hated fighting and seeing their people dying, but to them, using biological weapons was somehow dirty, like a stain on their honor.

  Moretti thought it might have something to do with them never wishing to have the weapons used on them. He had learned that governments had signed a charter that regulated war in the past, and the whole thing was wildly interesting. Now the EMF decided how they fought war and it came down to cost/benefit ratios.

  But here they were, diverging from that in order to keep more Troopers active and ready to fight in Fernix. This was a war, they couldn’t lose people here, it would take too long to have reinforcements from Earth arrive.

  Ortiz grunted, neither agreeing or denying Moretti’s words. “How long until they hit and how effective will they be?”

  “They will hit in seven minutes, and it will take up to fifteen minutes for them to complete dispersion. At that time, many of the regulars should be incapacitated,” Moretti said, feeling little mercy for the Chosen.

  “Understood, I have some planning to do.”

  “Good luck Major,” Moretti said. Back on Masoul a few years ago he would have found it odd to be wishing Troopers luck, they were just tools, but being stuck in Harmony’s midst and spending so much time with the Triple Twos had changed his way of thinking radically.

  He took another glance at the missiles and then headed into his work shed. It was away from the main landing area and the work sheds that were refurbishing powered armor.

  Inside, there was a section of Troopers who made sure he was safe and five desks with large computer stacks. There were seven other analysts in the room, pulled from Reclaimer. Moretti had worked with them since leaving Masoul. They knew him well and anticipated his needs.

  “Alright, we need to secure a place in this fleet for our people. Now there is no Reclaimer, we need to make sure that our people stay together. Having them thrown all over the fleet is not going to be good. Rasheed, I want you to make sure that we have somewhere to go, preferably headed to Fernix instead of here on over watch.” Moretti looked to the deeply tanned small man who looked up from his holographic screens to acknowledge Moretti’s words before diving back into his work, his fingers moving rapidly.

  “What is it, Daher?” The small woman was a coiled bundle of energy, with a tanned appearance and a short crop of hair and striking green eyes. She and Moretti had a less than professional relationship when they weren’t working. He could almost sense when she needed to say something.

  “Processing station Five has been cleared, we are in control. One is broken and decaying. Fearless is holding position with it, shooting anything that leaves it. Stations Four and Seven are also under our control. On Processing Station Seven someone seemed to have forgotten to delete a flight path computation from Osdal to Fernix,” she said proudly, pinching something off her surface and throwing it to Moretti.

  He opened the file and looked at the information within. “Good work Daher.” A smile crossed his features as he took the message, the l
atest reports, and sent it direct to Dalia. “I’ve submitted it higher, hopefully the EMF moving to Fernix can cut off some of those supplies.”

  Daher nodded, her proud smile becoming grim. She had known people on Reclaimer when the ship had been hit by missiles, and she’d known people that had died on Masoul and were fighting on Osdal. Hurting Harmony in any way was a worthy mission in her eyes.

  Don’t think you’re much too different, Moretti thought. He had been a loner before all of this, but now there was no denying the way he cared about the Triple Twos, Daher, or the other people fighting alongside them. Mark had once talked about how the Troopers were the family he’d never had. Moretti had snorted and joked about how they were the biggest misfit family ever.

  Mark had just smiled, nodding, as if he knew that Moretti had already found his own way into that family.

  Moretti tapped his leg pocket where his cigars were. The tipping point of the battle was coming; he could feel it in his bones.

  Chapter 61

  Mining City Twenty-One

  Osdal Actual, Osdal System

  9/3267

  Ortiz looked over the holograms that were showing the rough sketches of the plan he and his people had thought up in five minutes. It was ballsy.

  “Well, either this will work or we’re going to royally fuck ourselves,” Ortiz said, watching it again. “Not gonna know until we give it a go.” He opened his implants and sent out the messages he and his aides had pulled together. They didn’t have long until the biological weapons hit.

  Ortiz’s HUD started filling with green dots, denoting people understanding their orders and moving quickly.

  He looked to the varying flight plans that were showing on his tactical displays, Flight Control had got his requests and were diverting Combat Shuttles to him in the tens. He would need them all to carry out his move. He just hoped to hell he was doing the right thing.

  I wish that Nerva was here. Ice Man had fallen off the map when his Combat Shuttle had been hit with a missile. People had been over the shuttle, and no one had made it out alive.

  Ortiz had kept that information to himself. Nerva was well liked by the Troopers, he needed them clear headed and on task, not thinking about their dead Commander.

  If you’re up there, or still around in some way, give us a hand, will yah? Ortiz asked. He wasn’t a religious man, but he would take any help he could get.

  ***

  “Did you check these orders?” Yu asked. His Combat Shuttle was on stand by on central tower’s landing pad.

  “Twice, they’re from Ortiz, it looks like this is our final push. The other cities are making headway but they have too many losses. They need more Troopers to secure the cities, they can’t do it without the Troopers in Mining City Twenty-One,” Young said.

  “Idiots tried to hit too many places at once. Would have worked better moving from one place to another,” Bobbie growled.

  “Yes, but then there have never been this number of Troopers at their disposal, and they thought that it would be easy,” Yu sighed, shaking his head at whoever had come up with the initial landing plan.

  “We have Troopers incoming,” Bobbie said. The shuttle’s sensors pinged the arriving Troopers, and they were split up into two groups; those with powered armor and those without. They made for the shuttles quickly.

  Yu looked at the incoming ordinance, it was taking its sweet time so that it didn’t burn up in atmosphere or break before it was supposed to.

  He focused on that, while Bobbie got the Troopers settled in, and Young planned different flight routes and talked to other Combat Shuttles.

  The missiles spread apart, coming right at the city, and a few machine guns opened up, catching one missile. It didn’t even explode, it just disintegrated, its components heading for the city.

  The other missiles disintegrated under their own power, turning into a dozen smaller missiles which accelerated into the city.

  They passed through, breaking apart and scattering across the city before hitting the ground. They didn’t seem to do anything, just hit the ground and broke up. The toxin was invisible to the naked eye, but Yu’s sensors picked it up. The gas had started spreading as soon as the missiles broke apart and reached the city limits. In his view the gas was quickly falling through the city, the wind carrying it through the buildings.

  A timer started counting down on Yu’s console.

  He winced; the timer was counting down how long it would take for the gas to saturate the city and start affecting the Chosen.

  Counting down the minutes until they die, he thought, feeling disgusted at himself for using such a weapon.

  “We’re loaded up, sealing ramp,” Bobbie said.

  “Understood, we have ten minutes until dispersion.” Yu looked to his wings, moving the different controls, checking that they were all functional no matter the holes through them and the scuff marks from rounds glancing off of the Combat Shuttle’s hull.

  “We’ve been given the launch order,” Young said.

  “Powering engines,” Yu said, bringing the shuttle into a hover. When a gust of wind blew them sideways, Yu expertly reacted, counteracting the breeze and powering off the landing pad, following Young’s route.

  He dropped off the landing pad gathering speed and darting away, five other Combat Shuttles followed him in triangle formation.

  They were a sight to see, eight flying war machines arching away from the city and gathering speed, taking a long lazy turn to face the tower that they had fallen from. A few machine guns here and there opened fire. The Combat Shuttle’s gunners fired missiles and lines of tracers at the weapon systems, but there was nothing like the numbers they had faced when first entering the city.

  Yu leveled out, and started up an automated system that would make the shuttle drop and weave to make targeting hard. Young’s route made it look like they were going to touch down on several landing pads before finally lining them up with their intended target. Yu used his sensors to find Chosen and get an up-close look at them.

  He got a view of them in central tower. People were coughing and wandering around. Others were trying to comfort them, not understanding what was going on.

  His view changed to another group, the angle too oblique to see the first. There were a group of Chosen pointing weapons at the sick and dying. Yu didn’t know what was happening, but some of the sick were trying to get close to the healthy Chosen. The healthy ones opened fire on the sick, ripping them apart with their metal storm rifle’s fire.

  Other Chosen started firing on them, turning it into a wild shooting match.

  They were scared, and the toxin was deadly and fast.

  Another view came into play; PACs were wading through dead and dying Chosen, who were looking around wildly, obviously confused.

  The timer on Yu’s console hit zero as they passed over the last landing pad and Yu took full control of the craft, lining it up with the 75th floor.

  He fired on the level with his auto-cannons, and the rest of the Combat Shuttles following him took this as their signal, firing on the level.

  Combat Shuttles across the city were doing the same, heading right at a floor, and firing everything they had into it, clearing out any Chosen still left standing.

  More shuttles were coming in from orbit, their tails streaking water vapor. More rose from the maintenance pad turned forward operating base, their engines at full power.

  Yu applied his air brakes, slowing the shuttle. He winced as he went inside central tower. Still standing parts of the tower were smashed by the nose of the shuttle and its wings.

  His landing struts came out as he lowered the craft to the ground, leaving divots in the floor. He fired his forward thrusts at full, bringing the shuttle to a halt. The other shuttles also piled into the level and auto-turrets fired on any Chosen that were in the area.

  Ramps that had been half open dropped all the way, Troopers rushed out, circling the Combat Shuttles and taking control of the level
. Yu fired his auto-cannons, clearing a hanging section of warped metal out of his way.

  He powered his engines, looking at the torn up housing area and entertainment sector. He gritted his teeth, his shuttle’s wings breaking through the cheap walls, plowing an exit out of the tower for his fellow shuttles. It was painful hearing the damage he was doing to his shuttle’s wings. The chief engineer was not going to be pleased.

  Finally, he was out of central tower and dropping, and he powered his engines and pulled up, scared that his wings would fall off.

  He rose up, his air flaps complaining against the debris in their mechanics, but the air cleared it away.

  Should have had more faith in the old girl, he thought, letting out a breath and patting the Combat Shuttle’s console for luck.

  “Let’s never do that ever again,” Bobbie said.

  “Agreed. I can only imagine how much work it’s going to take to get this thing cleared for service after all of that,” Young added.

  Yu was just happy to have survived the whole ordeal. He headed for the maintenance pad, the Troopers were going to need supplies soon and Yu wasn’t going to leave them hanging.

  ***

  Jerome watched as PACs started falling over - and not from the Trooper’s weapon fire. They were exchanging fire from the entrance of the cryo-bunker to the stairwell that went down to it.

  Some of the smarter ones were using the Repulsors left behind against the Troopers.

  Collins got hit and fell backwards, and Jerome was there hauling her out of fire. Her hip was fucked up. Jerome quickly unlocked her armor and got inside.

  “You’re lucky Collins,” he said, covering the area in sealant. She had a small flesh wound, not two inches from the artery running through her leg.

  “Doesn’t feel like it Sarge,” she complained, not looking happy at all.

  “No I bet it doesn’t,” Jerome laughed, putting the sealant away. “You’re good to go, stay back though.” She would need to take time to let the area heal and hopefully see if her servo motor was working properly.