Fernix (Harmony War Book 4)

by Chatfield,Michael

  “What happened with the others?” Nerva asked.

  “They were captured with the majority of their crew in cryo. They are now sending Nivad false reports on what is in that area. As the ships go a fault will be found in their manufacture and they will start disappearing. The crews were recruited into The Legion and are being watched by Aurelius’ people,” NIDenise said, answering questions he hadn’t yet thought of. It was times like these when Nerva thought that she knew him better than he knew himself. It was also eerie as hell.

  “Alright, that’s enough looking at the past,” Nerva said, standing. “Show me the holograms of the planet Cela in the Cerey system and send out an invitation to all of the leaders from Centurion above for an informal dinner.” Nerva tried to push the thoughts of the EMF away.

  “Yes, legate,” NIDenise paused, catching up on his thoughts. “They’ll be okay,” she said, trying to reassure him.

  “They’re already not, Mark’s broken, I’ve seen it too many times before. He will fight and so will the rest, but Fernix will be their hardest battle yet, even with the extra sixty-seven Carriers,” Nerva said, not saying the words aloud, lest they might come true.

  Chapter 11

  EMFC Dauntless

  Freighter Vera

  7/3279

  Mark woke up in his cryo-pod and the door was closed. He checked his implants and his augments. He had a message that ordered him and the rest of the Reclaimer Regiment to assault and take a freighter.

  Mark twitched his triceps, his blade falling into his hand, and he turned it around, the small blade on the hilt pointing at the glass door. He pressed a button on the blade to make it vibrate slightly. He pushed it through the glass of the cryo-pod and cut a hole for his hand to fit through, then he cut upwards, clearing room for his arm to get out.

  He turned the vibrating function off and grabbed the handle at the side of his pod and pushed it down, opening his pod. He stepped out as someone else shot their pod. Troopers that had been laughing and watching winced and ducked as the Reclaimer Regiment got out of their cryo-pods, shooting, cutting or smashing them open.

  Mark went down the length, pulling on handles and opening up any of the Troopers that weren’t able to find their own way out.

  Haas got out, and Mark could see the anger in his face as he shook glass off his armor.

  “Want me to take care of them - wouldn’t take long,” Mark said on his speakers, tapping the pistol on his left hip.

  The Troopers that had been recording, trying to make asses of the Reclaimer Regiment, quickly got the idea and fucked off.

  “Remember their names for later,” Haas said, slapping Mark’s shoulder.

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Get your people moving to the armories, I want everyone wearing powered armor soon as possible. Check out the situation, we’ll do a briefing in fifteen,” Haas said over the Platoon officer channel.

  Waz, Ko, and Niemi, Mark’s Platoon officers, got their people organized and moving. Mark trailed behind them, checking the information on the freighter they were approaching.

  “Ko, go and make sure the Combat Shuttle pilots are good,” Mark said.

  “On it.” Ko took a Section and went off down the spine to where the Combat Shuttle crews cryo-pods were. “They’re all stuck in their pods, opening them now,” Ko said.

  “Understood,” Mark said, opening a channel with Haas.

  “They fucked with our Combat Shuttle’s crew as well,” Mark said.

  “Fucking idiots. Alright, we’re going to check all of our gear, including the Combat Shuttles. We’re not going until everything is one hundred percent. These bastards have had years to fuck with our shit,” Haas said.

  “Understood, I’ll pass it on,” Mark said, typing out a message through his implants and fingers, and sending it to the officers.

  “We’re not getting armor, apparently they’re undergoing maintenance,” Tyler said over the command channels.

  “Then we do it in normal armor,” Zukic said.

  “Yes, RSM.”

  Mark moved with his Platoon, filing past a weapons rack of E-12 rifles. Mark pulled one off, checking it over. The Troopers slapped on the extra attachments they’d gathered through the years to make them better killers. Mark put his own on and headed out onto the flight deck. The Combat Shuttle crews were just entering the deck and moving to their craft.

  Mark could tell from the way they were walking they weren’t happy.

  An alert came from higher, and they had ten minutes to get loaded up and headed for the freighter. Thankfully, they’d at least come to their senses through a gradual awakening, instead of the sudden pull from cryo like in Masoul.

  The augments were taking off the edge that came with waking up from cryo.

  “There’s no way that we’re going to have these shuttles checked over and ready to fly in ten minutes,” Lieutenant Yu, the Triple-Two’s usual pilot said. He was now in charge of all the Combat Shuttles that transported the Reclaimer Regiment.

  “Until you give the all clear we’ll take a nice sit down,” Haas said. “I want everyone to break their weapons down and put them back together. Full diagnostic on your helmet and your boots. Anything you think that someone could have fucked with while we were in cryo, I want checked,” Haas didn’t sound like he was pleased with the order.

  “Have them checked by the primary user and their buddy just in case,” Mark said to Dominguez, Ko, Niemi, and Waz.

  Green lights went across his HUD. They found a few issues, enough to know that someone had been messing with their shit, and wanted to make them look bad. The armorers moved around checking people’s gear, and the medics checked people’s vitals and they were cleared to go. The flight window came and went.

  Haas called a briefing, warrants and above grouping around him.

  “Okay, you’ve all looked at the freighter’s plans. Alpha Company, I want you to hit the command area, Bravo you have the cryos, Charlie take out the people flying the damned thing,” Haas said, looking from Jerome to Tyler and Mark.

  The three Platoon leaders greened up, sending a confirmation signal to Haas without having to say anything.

  “I want your people to look through the plans, get them to know where they’re hitting. Quick and fast so they don’t have time to react,” Haas said.

  Mark and the others greened up again.

  “Let’s get to it.”

  The Troopers had memorized the areas they were to attack and more by the time the Combat Shuttle crews started sealing their ships up, happy they wouldn’t fuck up mysteriously.

  “Alright we’re good to go, flight control’s having a fit right now with us not launching in the right flight window,” Yu said.

  Mark had seen enough parts replaced and fixes made by the Combat Shuttle crews that he was happy they’d done the full check. Flying on a Combat Shuttle that had been fucked with, in between solar systems, was not his idea of a good fucking time.

  “You heard the man, get loaded up!” Haas shouted.

  Mark walked with his people; it was a lonely position being an officer, he had to make the big decisions. Sure, he had his Platoon officers, but they were busy seeing to their Troopers.

  “You ready to go and take a freighter?” Jerome sounded bored.

  “Ready as I’m ever going to be,” Mark said, stepping onto a Combat Shuttle, and taking a seat next to the door so he was first out.

  “Wish we had armor,” Jerome sighed.

  “Might not do us much good, these freighters are smaller than our Carriers. A lot easier to concentrate fire on a PA-wearing Trooper than one running around in their base armor,” Tyler added.

  “Fair point,” Jerome said.

  “I just wish we were in Fernix, these freighters are just slowing us down,” Mark said.

  “Allows the EMF get more ships into position. They’ll only have been there a year before we show up and move into the system,” Tyler said. The Combat Shuttles’ ramps closed
as the landing pads dropped, heading for the hangar blisters on the Carrier’s underside.

  “Yeah, but it gives those fuckers more time to build up their military,” Mark pointed out, the ambient noise of the Combat Shuttle drifting away as the air was pulled out of the shuttle.

  “We’ve had the argument more times than I can count, it’s gonna happen the way it’s gonna happen, can’t do nothing about it,” Jerome said, wading into the conversation.

  “Doesn’t mean that it sucks any less,” Che added.

  “No, that it don’t,” Zukic said.

  “Good for launch.” The hangar door opened, and the twelve Combat Shuttles pushed off their landing pad.

  “Those motherfuckers. I’ve been welded to the deck!” one of the Combat Shuttle pilots said.

  “Just ripped off my front left landing strut,” another added.

  “Continue the operation, we’ll deal with the Combat Shuttle issues later,” Haas instructed.

  Mark felt the hot anger in his gut as ten shuttles pushed out of the hangar.

  “These fuck heads are playing with lives,” Dashtund said.

  “We make them look bad, they want to get rid of us,” Alexis explained.

  No one else said anything after that; they all agreed with her.

  Mark checked his HUD - just a few minutes until they closed with the freighter.

  “Get your minds in the game, focus on the freighter,” Zukic said.

  Green lights covered Mark’s HUD, his own joining them.

  “Alright, you all know your jobs, you’ve got the training and the Troopers on either side of you to get this done,” Haas said, Regiment-wide.

  Mark checked his harness and watched as the distances between the Combat Shuttle and the freighter dropped.

  It was a normal bulk freighter, the same model used throughout Earth and Her Colonies, one of hundreds of thousands that were the lifeblood of the EHC.

  It was a series of containers secured to a system of catwalks with powerful engines to the rear with solar sails fanning out around it, armored bulwark to the front, and living quarters on the relative top of the freighter. When loading it came in ‘upside down’ for ease of loading and unloading.

  The solar sails made it so that the freighter wouldn’t have known that the Carriers were even behind it, and any sensors pointing in the wake of the freighter’s engines were blocked by the solar sails. They were using them as cover as they caught up with the freighter.

  “Passing over the solar sails, say hello to the freighter Vera,” Yu said.

  Mark felt the shuttle come down over the solar sail and turn around to cut their forward acceleration, matching the freighter’s.

  The harnesses snapped upwards.

  “On your feet!” The cargo master barked. Troopers had their rifles and Repulsors strapped to them as they grabbed the hand rails above the aisles to steady themselves. Mark got a clear and unobstructed view as the ramp started opening before they touched down.

  They were facing the forward Sections of the freighter; it was marked with micro-meteor impacts and use. Light from the shuttle’s engines bathed the area in blue light, Mark’s helmet dimming against it.

  The shuttle settled onto a container and Mark could see other shuttles coming down around them.

  “Go!” the cargo master called, and Mark let go of the rail and pulled his E-12 free, pushing out of the Combat Shuttle.

  There was so little gravity it barely registered. Mark got low and used the magnetic pads in his boots to push himself along, as if he was jumping up a cliff.

  It was eerie listening to only his breath as he moved. There were no sounds other than his feet moving as he rushed out of the shuttle and turned around to face the living area that the shuttle was pointed at.

  He checked his HUD; the companies were all moving for entry points that would allow them the best access to their targets. He picked two entry points into and around the bridge, and sent them to his Platoons. His HUD cleared as he continued to move.

  A few people were going Dutchman, spinning off into the void of space, and a Combat Shuttle had been detailed to take care of them. Mark didn’t want to think about spinning off wildly into space.

  “Mark, let Two Platoon take point,” Niemi said.

  “Sorry, Niemi, used to being first in,” Mark said, cutting his pace so that the two Sections he was with could get in front of him.

  “I know, sarge,” Niemi said.

  Mark grinned in his helmet. He was okay at being an officer, but he really missed being a sergeant; small unit tactics, being on the front, not sitting back and letting other people take lead while he decided objectives and overall direction.

  “Very well, corporal,” Mark said, getting a laugh back from Dominguez, Niemi, and Ko. Waz hadn’t spent enough time around to understand it yet.

  Three Platoon’s two and four Section’s techs unlocked the airlock with their gadgets, their Sections rushing into the bridge. Weapons fire came out as the first Troopers stepped in the doorway, and two greens turned red and yellow on Mark’s HUD, but other greens were already in the bridge.

  The red halos of enemy combatants disappearing, shone.

  Without atmosphere, those two wounded could turn into dead in seconds.

  The Troopers cleared the bridge and moved on.

  “Dominguez, get a casualty area going,” Mark said as he moved into the bridge coming down on his feet. The gravity was on and more Troopers were rushing in.

  “Use the airlock, need to get these Troopers stable,” a medic called out.

  “Niemi, seal the airlock. Waz try entry on second point, we’ll make the bridge a casualty area,” Mark said as green lights appeared on his HUD.

  He moved through the bridge; it was simple with one captain’s chair and two chairs for communications and helm. Five bodies were on the floor. The wounded Troopers had been pulled off to one side and they weren’t looking too good after a few minutes of being exposed to vacuum with some nasty wounds.

  “Niemi, report,” Mark said, Ko’s people coming in through the airlock.

  “We’ve got some Chosen, look to be rattled up. Moving through the awake crew’s quarters,” Niemi said.

  “Good.” Bravo Company was in the engine compartments, clearing them, which was a large undertaking in an area that big.

  Alpha Company was moving like a plasma cutter through butter, going straight from their entry point into the living quarters, to the cryo-pods four levels below where the crew not on duty were resting.

  “Second entry point secured, moving for the kitchen area and offices,” Waz said.

  “If Waz has those areas I’m good to move to the second deck,” Niemi said.

  “I’m good to support her,” Ko said.

  “Do it,” Mark said, moving out of the bridge and heading for the second deck’s entryway down into the remaining living areas, and the heart of the freighter.

  He found himself in a corridor, a Section following him.

  When you fight close quarters it don’t matter who you are, Mark heard Nerva’s voice, happy to be fighting instead of HUD watching.

  Mark kept his rifle up as he walked forward, and someone moved up ahead, too fast for the HUD to pick up. Mark held off on firing until a metal storm rifle came around the corner, then he fired into the wall where the shooter must be, before they even had a chance to pull the trigger.

  He never stopped moving, advancing upwards as the gun dropped to the floor followed by a body.

  “I’ve got longshot,” someone said behind Mark, watching the length of the corridor as Mark turned and looked into the supply closet where the shooter had been.

  No targets jumped out at him and he advanced, moving around food stuffs in crates which filled the area.

  Mark turned along the crates as they stopped, and the Chosen fired as he turned the corner. Mark fired back, cutting the Chosen down.

  Mark made to move forward and found that his left leg had failed him. He wen
t sprawling, still keeping his rifle up and aiming down the crates.

  “I’ve been hit,” Mark sighed, the pain coming in a burst.

  “Medic! Moving up!” A Trooper stepped around Mark, moving into the crates, and more followed them, allowing Mark to start spraying himself back together.

  He rolled over and saw he’d been hit in the side of the leg and his stomach. He was also bleeding from the inner thigh. He sprayed the outer wounds, sealing them up.

  A medic rushed to him, pulling out their bigger medical kit.

  “Possible artery in the left leg,” Mark said, getting his gear out of the medic’s way. It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot. The pain was really annoying now that the initial adrenaline had worn off and the augments’ battle chemicals were being switched over to other drugs to keep him alive and functional.

  The medic examined it, pulling out tongs.

  “Ah shit,” Mark said laying back and looking at the ceiling, dialing up his pain meds and looking at his HUD to take his mind off his artery.

  His augments were keeping him alert and functional, but the medic needed to get ahold of the artery that had been pulled back up into his leg, or he would die of blood loss.

  “Come her,e you fucker, just come to mommy,” the medic cooed.

  “Please stop talking to my artery like that,” Mark said through gritted teeth.

  “Shut up and let me… oh, you sneaky fucker.”

  Bravo Company had cleared the engine areas out, Alpha had the cryo-pods under control and they were moving to assist Charlie in securing the rest of the living quarters. They owned the freighter, they just had to make sure there were no rats left.

  “Got it!” The medic said triumphantly. Mark didn’t feel too hot with the blood loss. His augments were doing everything they could to supply him with more blood.

  The medic kept messing around in his leg as someone took a knee by Mark’s head.

  “Hey, boss how yah doing?” Ko asked, sounding worried.

  “I have someone using fucking kitchen implements in my goddamn leg, and I can fucking feel it,” Mark snapped, looking at the second lieutenant. “You linked up with Alpha Company yet?”