Earth (Harmony War Book 5)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Then we’ll have them,” Baashir’s smile was cold and ruthless. His wife and child had been killed with the missiles launched into Housapel’s atmosphere.

  As they died, Baashir’s family, and everyone he knew outside of the soldiers standing beside him, were dead.

  Fursaro didn’t have many attachments, but he’d been a police officer once. He’d seen that same wild smile on serial killers’ faces. Now he saw it on all too many of his soldiers’ faces.

  Maybe the reports of the rapes and killings of Slum dwellers weren’t exaggerated? Fusaro clamped down on that thought.

  Chapter 46

  Westerly Three Sector

  Earth, Sol System

  2/3349

  “We have movement!” Dominguez announced.

  Mark rose out of his bed, pulling his helmet on and checking his rifle without conscious thought.

  Dominguez threw the report at his HUD, and he looked it over.

  Mark’s augments worked better than any coffee. He was awake in moments.

  “Form up the Troopers, Powered Armor,” Mark sent a command out and sirens started blaring through the compound as he sent the information to his officers.

  “I was getting tired of sitting around anyway,” Dominguez said, walking out of the room.

  “Prepare for operations, this is not a drill, prepare for operations,” the speakers yelled as Troopers formed up, sergeants and officers yelling Troopers into line and through the armories.

  It was a hive of activity, their one purpose to react and destroy the threats coming for them.

  Mark pulled his helmet off, hooking it to his Powered Armor’s back. His AMR went on the right side of his ammunition pack, and he checked his blade, making sure it came free with a tug.

  He pulled on armor panels making sure they were secure and functional as he checked for rust dust.

  “Well, time I started getting into the fight,” Mark sighed, bowing his head as he thought of the people he had lost. He shook his head and stepped backwards into the Powered Armor.

  It accepted him, closing around him. It was like he had skin a foot thick. His helmet dropped down, locking into place.

  “HUD live, power good, no major issues, ammunition full, Repulsor.” He grabbed the gun hanging by his side, checking it and pulling the cocking handle. “Good to go.”

  An implant control disconnected the chargers, and armor coverings closed over the ports. People moved out of his way as he walked towards the command center.

  On his maps, the Chosen were moving forward in some areas. All of them were advancing in one direction, towards Mega City.

  “Mark! Was wondering when you’d show up,” Moretti said.

  “Situation?” Mark opened his helmet. Most people couldn’t understand the information-riddled screens in the command center. Mark was one of the few who could.

  “Seems that there is someone over there giving the orders. The Chosen in close proximity to one another are moving forward with all the supplies that they can carry towards Mega City. They’re linking together. They’ll make larger and larger groups the closer they get to Mega City. Out here in Westerly we don’t have many groups to deal with. Ortiz wants us in Central Sector, bolstering their numbers. We’re to leave a Regiment behind to harass the rear of the Chosen and move the artillery pieces if the area is free,” Moretti said.

  “Very well, who do you want?” Mark asked.

  “Ko, he has good scout sections. I can use them to gather information from the Chosen laggers,” Moretti said.

  “Good,” Mark opened a channel to his captains. “Ko, your Regiment is to stay behind to assist in harassing the Chosen’s rear and gathering information that Moretti wants. When the Chosen move out of this sector you will be moving with the artillery we have to a new point. Alexis, Yule, get your Regiments loaded up and ready to move in ten. Grab everything and anything you need. We’re going to Central Sector,” Mark said, and green lights lit up on his implants. He closed the channel.

  “See you on the other side M,” Mark said, his arm opening up so his hand was free.

  “Better have a Cohelean for me,” Moretti grinned, shaking his hand.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Mark smiled, putting his hand back in his armor and closing his helmet as he marched out of the room.

  Chapter 47

  Central Sector

  Earth, Sol System

  2/3349

  “Push the scouts out, we need to slow the Chosen as they advance, and put our Combat Shuttles out to move people and equipment. I want all artillery at the scouts’ discretion and on the biggest pockets of Chosen coming at us,” Tyler said to Jerome and the officers standing around the table which was their command center.

  “We’re going to use the defensive lines. We pull back slowly, make them pay for every inch. Don’t bring them into close combat, if they get within a hundred meters pull back,” Tyler said. “Whyte, get your people on the line. Essa, your people will be reserve. You and Whyte give Dashtund your scouts. Dashtund, if there are opportunities to hit the Chosen with your Powered Armor, go for it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tyler looked at them all. “Let’s get it done!”

  They moved out of the room, their helmets closing as they started organizing their people.

  Tyler looked at Jerome who was spitting onto the dust covered floor.

  “Don’t look at me, we trained them. They’re the best Troopers I have ever served with. They’ll do their duty,” Jerome said.

  “I just wish that duty didn’t mean putting down their fucking lives for my plans,” Tyler said through gritted teeth.

  “We all do, that is what it means to be a leader,” Ortiz said, walking into the room.

  Jerome tossed him a tin of dip.

  Ortiz looked at it and then at Jerome. “You know me too well.” Ortiz opened the tin and started packing a lip.

  “Hell, I could get to know a rake with enough time. Been stuck with you so long it’s like a dirty habit,” Jerome smiled.

  “Like chewing,” Tyler said.

  “Chewing isn’t a dirty habit. It just looks like one,” Ortiz said.

  “He’s right little brother,” Mark said walking into the room, dust falling off his Powered Armor. “Now, where do you want me and my Troopers? It’s about time we gave them a good welcoming party.”

  His helmet and arm opened as he held out his hand. Ortiz tossed him the tin of chew.

  “Thought I’d find you bunch of degenerates together,” Alexis walked into the room.

  Tyler smiled at seeing her, and they locked eyes, each happy that they other was there, but also unhappy that they had a job to do.

  Ortiz spat on the floor.

  “That was good dust,” Jerome said.

  “You’re spitting on it,” Ortiz quipped.

  “Well, it’s my dust,” Jerome grinned.

  “Let’s get this battle sorted out, then we can get into ‘dust’ semantics later.” Ortiz spat on the ground again, smiling at Jerome.

  ***

  Alexis had been given a section of Central Sector, right in front of the Chosen forces moving forward.

  They’d taken losses from the mines that were outside of the areas they controlled, but there were a lot of them and they could soak up a few dozen casualties easily.

  Her mission was simple: slow and bleed the Chosen. When they got close, her people would move back section by section, platoon by platoon.

  The Chosen could easily push to either side and try to flank them. Central Sector was too big for the Troopers to try and control it all.

  They would pull back in an orderly fashion, firing at the Chosen, killing and slowing them as the Troopers consolidated their forces.

  If they broke and ran, then the Chosen would get a straight shot into the Troopers’ rear areas and then right to Mega City in the middle of it all.

  “How is second Regiment’s Bravo Company?” she asked, looking over maps she’d seen a dozen
times already.

  “They’re good and ready, had some maintenance issues but they were cleared by the armorer,” Liu said.

  “Are we sure?” Alexis asked.

  “No we’re not sure, but there’s nothing we can do about it, so stop worrying about it and stay focused.” Liu’s stern voice made Alexis sigh.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Alexis said. It was easy to get wrapped up in the stress.

  “I also heard that your brothers might have found a way to the frontlines, they’ll make sure that the troopers fall back in order,” Liu assured her.

  “Both of them?” Alexis felt the tension returning. Worrying about her two unofficial brother-in-laws.

  “You think anyone is going to argue with Jerome and Mark?” Liu asked.

  “You raise a good point.” Alexis shook her head.

  “Chosen in sight,” Dashtund reported, he was forward with his scouts.

  Alexis’ smile disappeared.

  ***

  Mark looked at the buildings around him. The people had cleared out some time ago. He had never heard the Slums this quiet. The dust storm whipped at the buildings, and windows and unsecured doors banged.

  He heard weapons fire in the distance.

  He checked a map, a gang had holed up in their stronghold; unfortunately for them, their stronghold was in the Chosen’s path.

  They were fighting, but the Chosen were tearing through them. Entire companies were moving past.

  Artillery rumbled, raining metal down on the Chosen. The artillery was effective, if you were standing right underneath it.

  The Chosen absorbed the minimal losses and moved forward.

  “Chosen in sight,” Dashtund said.

  Mark checked his Repulsor and leaned against the building he was using as cover, bracing the weapon.

  Troopers raised their weapons as the first Chosen ran into the mines they’d laid.

  “Fire!” Alexis said.

  Repulsors fired, lines of tracers disappearing into the dust storm, and pinging off the Chosen’s armor. The Chosen reacted, jumping for any cover that they could find and firing back.

  Mark ducked as rounds found his position. He lay down and fired back.

  Troopers were dragged out of the way as they went down, wounded or dead. Others took their positions as they moved back.

  “These fuckers are driven,” Dominguez said, clearing a stoppage on her Repulsor.

  “Un-fucking-fortunately,” Mark growled as Chosen started coming into visual range.

  The Troopers altered their fire, raking the crawling Chosen as artillery rained down on them from above.

  The Troopers were slowing them, but they weren’t stopping them.

  “They’re coming through the houses!” someone yelled out.

  “Mother fuckers,” Mark turned, seeing his security detail. “Make sure that no one comes through this house.”

  They punched holes in the wall, and moments later they were firing on Chosen that were indeed smashing their way through houses.

  “Combat Shuttles incoming,” Alexis said.

  Mark got down against the wall again, firing as rounds flew above his head. A few pinged off his shoulder.

  That’s going to bruise.

  He didn’t stop firing at the Chosen. They were just two hundred meters away and inching forward.

  A Heavy opened up, raking the buildings and walls, taking chunks out of them, dropping the weak Slum houses. Troopers ran for better cover, and more than one was cut down as more Heavies fired.

  “Hit the Heavies!” Lieutenant Giles shouted.

  Troopers rose up with screamers, sending the rockets into the Heavies’ position. Two of the Heavies went down, but there were five already firing, with more working their way into range every minute.

  Mark didn’t see or hear the Combat Shuttles, he just saw their work.

  Missiles struck Heavies, auto-turrets cut down Chosen, and auto-cannons ripped apart anything in their path.

  Their linked sensors cut through the dust storm as Mark started picking out targets and groups, instead of just any movement he saw.

  A check on his map showed the scout sections were up to their tricks. They got sensor-sticks among the Chosen, clearing up the Troopers’ sight, and used their AMRs to shoot anyone that looked like an officer.

  “Prepare to fall back,” Alexis said.

  They’d killed possibly a hundred Chosen, but through it all they were still moving forward. They'd lost maybe twenty. If they got stuck in close combat, then the Chosen’s numbers would swarm and overrun them.

  “Fall back!” Alexis yelled.

  Mark stood up and ran with his security detail and the platoon he’d been attached to.

  He ran for a few hundred meters; by then the rest of the company that had been on the front was moving back. Tracers passed Mark, the Chosen trying to find targets. As soon as Alpha Company was out of the way, Bravo opened up from their position.

  Mark crossed the five-hundred-meter mark where Bravo Company were set up.

  “I fucking hate cardio,” Dominguez huffed.

  “You’re telling me,” Mark said, taking a breath and running again. He still had to make it past Charlie Company, then to the fourth line where they’d fight the Chosen again. The techs were working on the position, and the armorers were waiting to check them over.

  Combat Shuttles were flying away from the battle, carrying the wounded and dead. They didn’t want to give the Chosen anything they might be able to use.

  Mark was covered in sweat from Earth’s heat, the adrenaline, and his kilometer-long jog. He couldn’t open his helmet or else he’d get dust in his face.

  “This fucking sucks,” Mark said.

  “Welcome to Earth’s Military Forces, sir,” Dominguez said, slapping his shoulder.

  ***

  “I’m getting calls from the high and mighties, they want you back at the citadel,” Tyler said.

  “Stonewall the bastards, my place is here at the front. They can sit in their friggin’ tower watching the Chosen coming. We’ll fight their fucking war,” Ortiz said, holding Tyler’s eyes and working the table in front of him.

  “Yes, sir,” Tyler sounded happy to stonewall.

  “We have Fourth Force recalled to the citadel. They’re getting their Powered Armor checked and they’ll be available to move up. The remainder of Mark’s division are being pulled back to assist. They’re bringing their artillery,” Williamson said.

  “Have the artillery deployed on the rooftops of Mega City. They’ll get more range there. Have the techs start siting positions for the guns,” Ortiz said. “I want all Powered Armor checked before it goes on the line. The Chosen won’t get a chance to work on their armor, so if we can hold the advantage there we use it.”

  “Essa, Yule, switch out with Whyte and Alexis. Whyte, Alexis get your people’s armor checked over, get them fed and rested,” Tyler said.

  They’d been taking delaying actions for the last day, switching Regiments on and off the line. The Chosen were trying to flank them. All of the scouts from Tyler and Mark’s divisions were also rotating to keep fresh. They had gone from harassing the Chosen to stopping them getting around the Regiments’ lines.

  Dashtund’s Regiment was a mobile force, plugging holes and hammering the Chosen back.

  “How long will it take for Ko to get here?” Tyler asked Williamson.

  “An hour.”

  “Good, tell him that he’ll be taking over from Dashtund. His people are worn out. They need rest.” The map was changing as orders were relayed.

  The Chosen, like the Troopers, were rotating their people around so that they had fresh soldiers on the front lines. They’d progressed forty kilometers into the Central Sector, there were four hundred kilometers to go - a hundred days at their current pace.

  Something is going to give, if it’s us or the Chosen I don’t know. Ortiz looked at the units. More were coming in every day, on both sides. The gangs seemed to have given u
p trying to attack the Chosen.

  Ortiz remembered the reports and pictures of what the Chosen had done to the gang members that they had captured. And people who had got in their way. The Slums were angry, but they weren’t suicidal.

  “How far back do we have to go until we can cover every square kilometer?” Ortiz asked.

  “We’ll be inside Mega City, we just don’t have the numbers,” McPherson said.

  “Once we get into Mega City then we lose the advantage of the dust,” Mark walked into the command center, dust falling from his clothes.

  “You’ve got command, I’m going on the line,” Tyler said.

  “Stay safe,” Mark said, the two brothers tapping arms. Jerome and Mark repeated the gesture. It took a special kind of trust to turn over management of your division to another.

  For the brothers, there wasn’t even a question of each others’ abilities.

  Dominguez stomped into the room, tapping Jerome and Tyler’s arms for good luck.

  “That’s why we hold them for as long as possible,” Ortiz said, holding Mark’s eyes.

  “Yes, sir.” Mark’s face was grim; he knew how many Troopers they had already lost.

  The Chosen were pushing hard, no matter their losses they pushed forward. With their tactics and discipline they were losing less than Ortiz might like. It was more than the Troopers were losing, but they were continuing. The dust was jamming up their guns and their armor, and making them screw up.

  Every little fuck up counts. Ortiz looked at the changing board as Chosen and Troopers clashed over kilometers. Four hundred thousand Troopers against triple their number.

  Ortiz gritted his teeth, he wanted to pull them back to Mega City, to have interlocking units making a solid line against the Chosen. Doing so would save more of them now, but they would pay for it later. Here, he would trade their lives to whittle the Chosen down.

  The bloody math of war and leadership.

  Chapter 48

  Combat Shuttle Four-Two-Seven​

  Earth, Sol System

  2/3349

  Yu watched his instruments as he lowered a collection of artillery pieces down on to a Mega City rooftop. Its perfect gardens were being ruined by Combat Shuttles bringing in artillery pieces and moving them into position.