“I’m Whyte,” Dashtund’s sergeant major said.
“No shit, I wasn’t exactly going to call you tanned,” Bobbie said with a grin that showed it was a joke.
“Not many places to get a tan around here,” Whyte said with a smile. He was a lanky looking dude; calm, reserved, and a hell of a hand-to-hand fighter. But being in cryo for decades and then in Powered Armor did little for someone’s naturally pale skin.
Kim was a quiet fella with a deep voice, he didn’t seem to talk more than was absolutely necessary.
Liu was a poster-looking soldier, with strong features and only a short military regulation haircut.
Nguyen was confident, and laughed easily but, like the others, she knuckled down when the fighting came.
The first early bonds were being made as Tyler held Alexis’ hand under the table. She smiled at him as she squeezed his in return.
He put his tongue out again; she laughed shaking her head at her immature husband, and then stuck her tongue out back at him.
Tyler nearly snorted his food out as Mark and Jerome looked at the two of them.
“Goofballs,” Jerome surmised.
“Quite,” Mark agreed, smiling at his family.
***
Lunch had wrapped up quickly and Jerome was making his rounds through the various training areas. sections were coming together as they worked to bring their bodies up to Two Division’s standards.
As they had fought they had only worked when they needed to, conserving their energy and waiting. Here, they were getting back the conditioning lost over the nearly two years.
They were packing on the pounds lost from limited rations. Their leaders pushed themselves and their people hard, way past their limits. Jerome had seen most of them in the medical ward getting fitted with augments.
All of them had optical implants and at least one kind of medical augment. It showed in their recovery times. They could work faster and harder on less sleep and sustenance.
Though, for now, Mark made sure that they were packing on the calories, and that nausea-inducing physical activity took place well after meal times.
“They’re looking better,” Jerome said to Kim as they watched a platoon working with Powered Armor and training blades.
“We’ve started decreasing the power amplification on their Powered Armor, to make them really fight for it,” Kim said.
“Good. Captain Hall is also increasing the gravity of the ship, so it should be rated for just over Earth’s gravity before we finish training,” Jerome said.
“Here I was starting to feel tall,” Kim said, spitting into a squeeze bottle.
Jerome laughed, looking at the five-and-a-half-foot tall man.
Suddenly Jerome’s eyes caught a lethal motion in the fighting Powered Armor. He wasn’t the only one. A master corporal saw it, moving in and slapping the blade away.
A tussle broke out. Kim started moving forward, but Jerome rested a hand on his shoulder. Kim looked at him askance but held his place.
“Let them sort it out; if they need it then they’ll ask for us,” Jerome asked.
“Sometimes it really sucks having a higher rank,” Kim sighed, spitting into his bottle again.
“Yeah, it does.” Jerome had wanted to get in the middle of it and sort out what was going on. Instead he had to trust the section and platoon the offending corporal was in to deal with the attack. “I’m going to go and check on first platoon, want to tag along?”
“Sure thing, boss,” Kim said.
“You got any extra chew?”
“And the real reason you asked me on this excursion comes out,” Kim snorted.
Chapter 4
EMFC Fearless
In Transit to Sol System
6/3296
Mark moved through the sparring mats with ease, even in his Powered Armor. His people were tired, but still working hard to impress him.
He talked to a few people here and there, giving advice instead of treating them like children. They were all veterans here; they had proven themselves. Unless they started acting like idiots, Mark was happy to treat them in the same way he might treat one of his friends he was sparring with.
People listened to him and followed through with their attacks, blocks, and feints.
I wonder if any of them thought we would be training with swords more than blades when they joined the EMF? Mark thought, looking over a scene that someone might have seen two millennia ago. Men and women sparred in full armor, with practiced and deadly strikes.
More than once Mark had found himself learning something instead of teaching. All of the people had fought across a variety of battlefields, and their experiences only served to make them all better.
Mark was tired of fighting, tired of war, and he wanted nothing more than to leave it all behind, but he would not leave his people. The promise he had made to Caroline as the warmth left her body on Osdal was burned into his mind.
He would eradicate Harmony, and see his people through those battles. They might hate the constant drill, and be irked by the need to train when they knew that they were good fighters, but when battle came, he knew that they would thank him.
Training would pull them together into a single unit, a powerful force to be reckoned with. He and the other leaders had spent their time working out a plan to get them combat capable.
Recently promoted General Ortiz was leaning against a wall, watching the Troopers. Mark walked over, and Ortiz glared at him as he was about to offer a salute.
“You can take that hand and shove it, Mark,” Ortiz growled.
Mark’s face split into a smile. “Good to see you too, Ortiz.”
“I didn’t realize how much damn fucking paperwork there was as a general. Thankfully Moretti found me some bean counters to take it over. Need to plan to defend Earth, not waste time tallying up equipment costs and the like,” Ortiz complained.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but it does seem that the weight has settled around your knees,” Mark said.
“Bite me.”
Mark spat into a squeeze bottle and offered Ortiz a tin from his pocket.
“You blessed soul, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Ortiz said, getting a laugh from Mark as he put in a decent sized pinch of the brown chew.
He tossed Mark the tin and pulled a bottle out of his pants’ leg. “Your Troopers are looking good, hell they all are.”
“Good, we’re going to need them.”
“Yeah, Earth’s gangs aren’t going to like it much when we walk all over their territories. I’ve got Moretti looking into Earth’s different gangs, and it looks like we’re going to have to assert our claim over Earth to just get the ground. They are, of course, going to try to do everything they can to get our supplies. Hell, a boot would be good enough to feed someone for a month,” Ortiz sighed, rubbing his face. His dark hair was showing grey and his face was lined with wrinkles from stress and a lifetime of battles.
Mark hesitated before speaking, wondering if it was the right time, or even if he should suggest it.
“Out with it boy; just watching those thoughts roll around your head is enough to give a man constipation,” Ortiz said.
Mark looked around, then activated the sound canceler that Moretti had made him.
“You knew Quentin Richter, right?” Mark asked, talking of the man who had raised him in the Slums and been the boss of the gang he had lived with.
“Yeah, course. Him and Nerva were like brothers,” Ortiz said. Nerva had been a mentor to Ortiz, Mark, and so many others. Mark believed it was actually his training that had kept him alive for all of his fighting years.
“When he passed away, he passed control onto someone else in the gang, but then he made a promise that if I or Tyler returned, they would accept us back and that they would listen to our advice. The gang is still around, and they’re pretty powerful. If we make a treaty with them then not many people will screw with us,” Mark said.
“Wo
rth a shot. When we get to Earth it’s worth giving it a try. But, if it comes to it, then we’ll have to teach the gangs why you don’t screw with Troopers.”
Mark nodded, his face hard. The EMF had become his home a long time ago. He would do anything to keep his people safe, even take on Earth’s gangs.
***
Alexis looked at her Regiment, and she had to admit that they had made strides in returning to their pre-Fernix condition. In fact, many that had been only taught to do what was called the BM, or Bare Minimum, were actually in better shape than they had ever been in their lives.
They had packed on their weight, been passed through medical treatment. All of them now had augments; Mark had said proudly the other day that they were the most augmented group of Troopers in the known universe. All of the items that they had captured and then sold back to the companies through the EMF had lined their pockets nicely.
A few that had been hesitant to get the augments before now, understood how the little devices could literally save their lives on the battlefield.
Alexis took a breath, thinking of her own injuries that would never heal. It was like a shadow passing over. She had been deeply hurt, but Tyler had broken down her walls and reassured her.
She loved him even more deeply; no matter what, she knew she could never leave the big dolt alone. She smiled to herself as she watched the Troopers executing training moves under Mark’s tutelage. He was moving around in his Powered Armor, calling out training techniques, and the group was moving in one singular mass.
The moves would be ingrained into their minds, ready for when they were attacked by Harmony.
Or by the gangs, she thought, remembering her own time in the Slums.
They just had three more months, but Alexis could already see that the Troopers were all willing to learn. The frustration at all of the training was there, but they understood that they needed to do it.
They could already see the results in the fighting on the simulation floors, and in the gym, sparring. Even in the video games that they played, they were using real tactics to fight one another.
They had started off as people from across the fleet and from many Trooper Regiments, but in nearly two months they’d turned into a singular fighting force.
Their armor was battle-scarred, but no longer covered in grime. They had filled out with proper nutrition, and while the haunted look hadn’t left, it was now focused on the task at hand.
She moved for the elevators; she had set up a simulation with her leadership, and the best way to get used to her people was to throw them into some combat with her.
She’d taken the leadership from her platoons and companies, and formed them into one large section. They’d be going up against another Regiment’s leadership. It was meant to get them working closer as a team.
There was a certain degree of competition among the Regiments; if there wasn’t something on the line, then it wouldn’t be fun, she thought with a smile.
Chapter 5
EMFC Fearless
In Transit to Sol System
9/3296
Mark looked over his Division, at his three Regiments looking straight ahead. His trained eye passed over armor, Repulsors, and positioning.
It didn’t take him long before he was standing back in front of them.
“I guess you’ll do,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “Alright, you’ve got a few weeks of leave, so make sure your buddies don’t get too messed up and don’t go into cryo with a hangover - or drunk! Feels like piss when you wake up,” Mark grumbled, getting a rumble of laughter.
“We are going to be waking up as we get closer to Earth to turn this carrier into a true warship. As we do so, we will all be going through training again to keep our skills sharp. It won’t be long until we’re waking up on Earth. Once we get there we will dig in, ready and waiting for those Harmony pricks. We have destroyed them in Masoul, Osdal, and Mintran. Our brothers and sisters will clear out those that remain in Fernix and Housapel. We will finish it with Earth,” Mark growled.
“I look forward to standing with you on the battlefield, Troopers,” Mark said, scanning their visors. “Captains, see to your Regiments.”
Mark left as the Regiments’ clean lines dissolved and the Troopers piled around their captains. There were none of the awkward movements of the first time they’d done it.
They were used to the briefing circles. Joking and talking to one another.
Mark knew they were ready as he walked away. All of them moved with the wider steps that characterized Powered Armor wearers, moving in their Powered Armor as if it was their own skin.
***
The mess was in full swing, but Tyler was watching Mark with a thoughtful look, sipping on his beer.
“Something wrong?” Alexis asked, pressed up against his side.
He thought about trying to cover it up but knew she’d see through him, even if they both were getting a good buzz on from their beers.
“Scared for Mark,” Tyler said.
“Why? He’s drinking a normal amount and he’s talking to others about plans. He’s chewing more than he’s drinking,” she pointed out, reminding Tyler of Mark’s alcoholic binge after Osdal.
“I mean; he’s been approached by several different women. The Mark I know would have taken some, if not all, of them to bed if he could,” Tyler said, wondering if she was the best company to share his observations with.
“He’s a hero and he’s also handsome, not like you, but women might be interested in his height and those muscles,” Alexis mused.
“Yes, but he hasn’t even batted an eyelid as he turned them away,” Tyler said.
“Caroline,” Alexis said.
Tyler winced; he’d only heard parts about the woman called Caroline, most of them when Mark had been pissed drunk after Osdal. They’d cared for one another and then, because of knowing him, the Chosen tortured her in front of him. He’d killed them, but it had been too late. She’d died in his arms. She had been someone that could take in all that Mark was, and not care. She had been a rare woman and the loss had hit Mark hard.
“I hope one day that he gets past it,” Tyler sighed, looking at Alexis.
“In the meantime…” Alexis grabbed two shots from a passing barmaid, the chip in her arm automatically billing her for the drinks. She passed one to Tyler, tapping the glasses together. “Cheers!” she said with a wicked smile.
Tyler tossed it back, the liquor burning down his throat. His implants informed him that his augments could clear the alcohol out of his system. He turned them off and let the alcohol take hold.
“Trying to get me drunk?” Tyler asked, their breath warm on one another.
“Maybe,” she said kissing him hungrily, her hand rubbing his leg. “Is it working?”
“Four more shots please!” Tyler called to the person at the bar, then turned back to Alexis. “Maybe a little.”
Chapter 6
Alezio City
Goulag, Demash System
11/3296
“The Earth’s Military Forces moving from Fernix to Sol have started their cryo-stasis schedule. They will be woken and then shifted to different duties until they reach Earth in half a century,” NIDenise said inside of Primus Legate Nerva’s head.
She was a Neural Interfacing Artificial Intelligence. Every person born into protection under the Roma Legions usually had one. They looked like simple silver bands on a person’s arm. Their nanites spread out over their user’s body and neural pathways to understand messages, look after their user and allow them to quickly access information.
To Legionnaires, they were invaluable for controlling their complex Powered Armor and for the control and coordination of the biggest military machine in the known universe.
Nerva rubbed his face in thought. He was a much older man than he had been when he had left the Legions to recruit from the EMF’s Troopers.
He had left it decades ago, but for the people he ha
d left behind, and who had survived, it had been just a few short years.
He had been fighting across more planets than were in Earth and Her Colonies, but it didn’t mean that he had forgotten the people that he had thought of as his children.
He sighed, thinking of Tyler and Alexis’ wedding.
“Very well, see what their plans are. If we can, let’s try to extract them this time, without Mark breaking out of the extractor’s capture,” Nerva thought-spoke.
“I will update you as the situation continues,” NIDenise assured, stimulating his audio-sensory nerves instead of speaking out loud.
Nerva nodded and looked to his own charts and information. They had beaten back most of the larger Maraukian hordes. There were a few more moving in and Nerva’s people were tired.
He had been working with his people to not only push off the last remaining Maraukians, harassing their defenses, but also turning to repairing and rearming them. They had been pushed back to the third lines of Alezio’s defenses.
They had been just holding onto the planet’s defenses for years. The Auxiliary Legions from the planet’s own population had been cycled through as new people had taken up arms and the old had been pulled back to train. The Legionnaires had held the lines, no matter what.
More than once it had come down to shield and sword, using the tricks of their forefathers to shove the Maraukians back and claim back their lines.
That’s what Legionnaires do; we hold, we hold no matter what, Nerva said, pushing out of his seat and feeling his joints pop and crack. He turned, getting more kinks out, getting some relief as he walked over to his Powered Armor.
“Are you going to inspect the lines?” NIDenise asked, as if she couldn’t read his thoughts already.
“Reports are good and all, but there’s nothing quite like seeing the damned things close up, Nerva thought-spoke. The armor pulled around him.
He wasn’t some general that was going to sit watching the battle from his carrier in orbit. He’d be down in the trenches with his people until someone dragged him away.
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