Fernix (Harmony War Book 4)

by Chatfield,Michael

  “Take the shirt off, and take a seat,” the medic said as they pulled tools off a cart and pointed to a bed where a Trooper was having an arm and a foot reprinted.

  Jerome sat next to the Trooper’s good leg and the medic went to work, injecting things, pulling shrapnel out and sealing him up.

  Jerome pulled up his implants, checking over the state of the Regiment. If there was even one of the Devil Dogs living, then they would make the Chosen pay ten-fold for their losses.

  Chapter 47

  HC Tempest

  Oort Cloud, Housapel System

  10/3294

  Quinn looked at the latest report from Fernix. General Ando had fallen and the Troopers were pushing out an offensive that was hitting many strong points.

  He checked the reports he had bought from Earth companies, telling him all about the Carriers moving out of the system.

  Should work nicely, Quinn thought, opening a channel to Admiral Hawking. The man responded moments later.

  “Sir,” Hawking said, sounding as if Quinn had just woken him from sleep.

  “Admiral, I believe it is time that we were on our way. Time for part two of our plan,” Quinn said.

  “Certainly, sir. I will rouse the captains and see that we are on our way as soon as possible,” Hawking said, energy filling his voice.

  “Very well, admiral, keep me appraised of the situation,” Quinn closed the channel.

  All of the pieces were in position, now he just had to see if he was able to wrestle control from Nivad. He knew the spymaster was not likely to give up his control easily.

  Quinn’s face broke into a thin smile.

  I know what I’m willing to do to get that power. To hold it. Nivad will be willing to do whatever it costs. I just had to make sure that he had nothing else to try and stop me. Now all of the Troopers are entrenched in fighting on Fernix, and there isn’t enough lift capacity on Housapel to move all of them. It means pulling them back towards Earth in time to save it from me, and my fleet has passed.

  Quinn thought of his fleet sailing into Sol System. No one would dare defy their cannon and purpose built ships as Quinn laid claim to the Ministry of Intelligence seat and gave Hawking the seat to the EMF.

  He would take control of the EMF, and once the dust settled the officers would care little who was in control as long as they were paid and they could play their games. Quinn’s fleet, his true fleet, was crewed by people that understood money. They weren’t Harmony fools. They were corporation fighters. Mercenaries.

  They were Troopers, Housapel’s own brand.

  Chapter 48

  SLS Gladius

  Demash System

  10/3294

  “They have him,” NIDenise said, in Nerva’s mind.

  “Who?” Nerva thought, panic setting in as he looked away from the maps of Goulag.

  “Mark, we do, they’re stabilizing him, he took severe wounds, but he will be fine,” NIDenise said.

  “What happened?” Nerva thought.

  “Tyler shot the commanding general of the Chosen forces. Mark blew up a reactor. Ortiz used the distraction to push out his units. Pushed back the attackers and allowed him to reinforce his defenses. Six Regiments moved out to hit Chosen forces and mark high priority targets that the scouts couldn’t get eyes on. One of the Regiments was nearly wiped out by a nuclear missile. Devil Dogs moved to support. Chosen piled in, a lot of them died and more of them were wounded. Mark was the last one standing, he meant to save Tyler with his last action. One of our operatives hit him with a nanite bullet, put him out and into stasis so that we could recover him. The EMF bombarded the area with artillery and the Chosen ran. We recovered a good many of the Troopers. Here is a full list. Mark is still in a nanite tank. The operatives put down those that looked like they were going to die, for extraction. They’re going to need another Carrier,” NIDenise said.

  Nerva scanned through the names, he knew them, some of them for all of their military careers, and others had been marked by other Legion recruiters in the EMF.

  Nerva looked through all of the lists, looking at who had died and those that had lived, or were wounded. His features hardened as he saw more names of those that he would never see again.

  He went through files, reading up on those that he had seen a lifetime ago, remembering a smile, a laugh, a joke. How they’d helped him in the field, or had a quiet conversation with him. He might be an officer, but to many he was a confidant. People had confided in him; he knew some better than some knew themselves. Now they were gone.

  He sat there for hours, looking back on a life that was now seeming distant and dream-like. The pain of losing those people was anything but distant.

  Chapter 49

  Factory Complex Three

  Blue Moon, Fernix System

  12/3294

  Mark gasped for air as he pulled himself out of what felt like a bathtub.

  He looked around, and he was in some kind of medical area. Instead of beds there were coffin-looking boxes with leads connected to them and what looked like mercury in them.

  He looked down, seeing that he was in a vat of the same stuff and he pushed himself up, healed and naked.

  “Shit,” Mark said, not quite believing it as he found the bullet hole where his shoulder joint had been, and there wasn’t a second hole on his skin.

  He got out of the silver-mercury bath and, as he stood, not a single bit of the silver water stayed on him. There wasn’t even a stain left behind as he stood on the floor.

  “Well, not dead, weird ass silver bath tech.” Mark shook his head. He didn’t have time to think on that. He needed to get armor, a weapon, and he needed to go to his Regiment. This wasn’t a Trooper medical bay, so it had to be a Harmony one. How they’d got this tech he didn’t know.

  Maybe it’s a CEO medical bay. Though why the hell would they want to fix me up?

  Mark pushed that to the back of his mind, and took in the room. Beside his bed was a Trooper uniform, so he pulled on the smart clothes, then looked around again and made for the nearest door.

  It opened as he got close to it, so he checked both ways, waiting and listening for noise. He heard something coming from his right, so he went left, looking back to see if anyone came out behind him as he moved through the facility.

  He kept moving forwards and to his right. He saw an airlock that looked like it went out to Blue Moon.

  Well, don’t want to be breathing nothing, need a damn helmet, and some kind of armor and weapon. Mark tried the doors around the airlock finding a supply closet, one that was locked and then a large room.

  Bingo, Mark thought as he stepped into the room. There was Chosen powered armor, Trooper powered armor, regular armor for both groups, and there were weapons of all kinds in boxes.

  Mark moved to the Trooper powered armor, checking the two in the best condition. One powered up, the other didn’t. It was about four inches smaller than Mark would have liked, but it was powered armor. He strapped Repulsor ammunition boxes to the powered armor’s ammunition pack.

  He pulled the Trooper armor on, and it was reassuring to have it against his skin again.

  What I would do for a pair of friggin underwear.

  “Mark Victor, this is Legionary Asaul, I do not wish you harm. We healed you in hopes that you might listen to our proposition,” someone said through the facility’s speakers.

  “No can do, bud, got people counting on me and I’m not about to let them down,” Mark muttered to himself. His combat augments kicked in to get him fully functional, and he dropped to the floor, holding his head in agony.

  He grunted through it and pushed himself into the powered armor, and with a message from his implants it closed around him. He checked the controls and cocked the Repulsor, and a round dropped out of the bottom.

  “Fuck, this is uncomfortable,” he growled, his head still reeling from the headache.

  Legionary Asaul was still going on about wanting to talk to Mark.

 
Mark moved to the corridor, there was nothing in it as he moved for the airlock. It cycled fine and he quickly found himself outside.

  He was out in the factories; his map showed him as being in Factory Complex Three, but sixty kilometers from the Trooper base.

  He looked at the facility. It wasn’t a facility, but a ship, about the size of four Combat Shuttles. He’d never seen anything like it. It looked like it was meant for war with its weapons. Purpose built-like the Harmony ships, but Mark knew that this was generations ahead.

  “Well shit, maybe he wasn’t lying,” Mark said, turning and jogging away. He wasn’t going to stick around and find out. Out here he knew how things were, so he took off in the direction of his camp.

  Chapter 50

  SLS Gladius

  Goulag, Demash System

  12/3294

  Nerva checked that his seat was good on the dropship. They would be hurtling through the planet’s atmosphere for the rudimentary camp that was building around the city Farei. The first Maraukian scouts had already made contact with the defenses and a horde was moving towards the city turned Legion camp.

  There were eight cities, and all of them were closed up. The first dropships had already landed in them and their legionnaires were spreading out to take over the defenses. The centurions were reporting to the legates, who were passing word to Nerva.

  The campaign to secure Goulag again did not look like it would be a pleasant one.

  “So, Mark escaped.” NIDenise said.

  Nerva sighed and closed his eyes, his armored hand rubbing his face. “Of course he did. Any damage?”

  “He was being given a nanite mapper for his Neural Interfacing Artificial Intelligence. He’s now working his way back to the Troopers. Should look like he escaped something and that he somehow crawled home,” NIDenise said.

  “How the hell is he going to do that in a single suit of powered armor? It’s going to take him months to get through those Chosen!”

  “Yes, but he’s a resourceful man. You don’t pick them stupid and useless.”

  “But still, getting through all of that?” Nerva let out a breath and shook his head.

  “If anyone can do it, it’s Mark Victor. Now, get focused on your mission. I’ll keep you updated if the situation changes.”

  “Gotcha, thanks.” Nerva closed his helmet and checked the M19 next to him. It was no E-12. This was a proper rail gun with rounds that hit so hard that they could rip through Trooper and Chosen armor like it was paper. For a Maraukian, they’d take a decent burst.

  Fucking Maraukians, Nerva thought as the lights signaled that they would be leaving SLS Gladius shortly.

  Chapter 51

  EMFC Fearless

  Fernix Prime’s Orbit, Fernix System

  1/3295

  “Hey, babe,” Tyler said as he entered the medical room. Alexis was waiting for him, a smile on her face, and Tyler reached out for her and they grasped hands, looking at the doctor.

  She had been laid up for three months for surgeries, and waiting for specialists to look her over. Alexis hadn’t told him what it was about. He knew that they could regrow organs and fix her up. She was eating fine and she looked healthy, though there had been a shadow to her eyes in the last three months, a shadow that was more than just the loss of so many friends and those they thought of as family.

  Alexis had been there for him, as they cried and talked together. They had used one another to prop the other up. The rest of the Devil Dogs’ leadership had been in to see her and the two times they’d got a break from the front lines they’d all met up in Alexis’ squad pod.

  She’d been released for two months, but the medics seemed to be waiting for results on something.

  “The results have come back, and we’ve checked them a few times,” the doctor started in a tone that made Tyler brace himself for the worst.

  “When you were hit with shrapnel, it dug into your stomach ripping up your guts, your womb and ovaries. We were able to print you a new womb, but we cannot print new ovaries. You would need more specialized medical assessment to know for sure. But I think that even artificial insemination would not be possible,” the doctor said.

  Alexis cried and covered her face, pulling her hand from Tyler’s.

  Oh, no, you don’t take this pain on yourself! Tyler thought, turning and picking her out of the chair as if she was a baby, putting her on his lap and hugging her. She melted into him, crying on his shoulder.

  “Will it lead to any health complications?” Tyler asked, his voice soft and caring as he held Alexis with one arm and rubbed her back with the other.

  “No, there shouldn’t be any. I will let you have the room,” the doctor said, standing and moving for the door.

  “Thanks,” Tyler said, cradling his wife as he held a hand over her lower stomach.

  Tyler made soothing noises, wishing he could do something, anything to take away the pain Alexis was feeling. Sure, he had thought about kids once or twice, but he wasn’t going to have them while he was a Trooper. He didn’t know if they were even going to survive this. Mark hadn’t, and he had been the hardest man Tyler knew.

  Tyler kissed Alexis’ forehead, rocking her slowly as he hugged her, as if trying to keep the rest of the universe at bay.

  Chapter 52

  Factory Complex Three

  Blue Moon, Fernix System

  2/3295

  Jerome looked at Dashtund and Dominguez, they were moving quickly to his left. The Devil Dogs weren’t really a Regiment any more; there were a hundred and fifty-three of the original two hundred and forty-five. They could barely hold the line by themselves. The Fox Regiment had been collapsed into the Regiment, bringing them up to strength. Tyler, who had taken command, had let them keep their name, giving them their own Company.

  The Foxes were thankful. That was their identity, and people had died with that name and symbol on their powered armor.

  The Foxes and Dogs worked well together, but their real skills weren’t sitting in the lines and cutting down Chosen charges. Their skills were best spent letting them sneak into enemy territory, mark targets and pull back. They’d taken over Ortiz’ forces, scouting, recon, and targeting. They hadn’t gone out for a day or two now, and they spent up to a week scouting for good targets.

  The Chosen were clearly rattled and Jerome had seen in-fighting more than once.

  Their morale was low, even if they had numerical superiority. It looked like Tyler really had killed the leader of the Chosen. There was some talk of a replacement, but from the Chosen’s tone they didn’t much like them.

  “Hold up, take a look at that,” Dashtund said, through sub-vocals, putting a marker on a building.

  Jerome zoomed in, and at first he didn’t see anything, but he trusted Dashtund and flipped through different visions until he hit the heat scope. The buildings were warmer than those around them, and there was powered armor moving around in there.

  “Moving for better vantage,” Dominguez said. They were all moving in their smart clothes and armor; powered armor was too bulky and easy to spot for this kind of work.

  Dominguez moved as Dashtund and Jerome continued to monitor the building. It was some kind of facility, though Jerome didn’t understand it.

  “Looks like a camp,” Dominguez said.

  Jerome switched to the feed coming from Dominguez’ helmet. He could see into the storage facility easily now. It was a rest and re-arm camp and it looked to be active.

  Jerome felt a twinge of pity for the Chosen that were in there, hoping that what he was about to do wouldn’t happen to him or his friends.

  Jerome marked a bathroom, the sleeping quarters, and an armory that were tucked into a storage facility. They’d hidden it well, but the heat coming off the place was enough to make Dashtund point it out and Dominguez’ vantage allowed them to see into the building.

  “Let’s get moving,” Jerome said through his sub-vocals. He wanted to be far away when those rounds came in.


  Dominguez and Dashtund followed as they climbed over machinery and across catwalks. It was slow work as they scanned for Chosen, placing sensor sticks to add another region to the Troopers’ maps.

  They paused above a group of PACs that were talking and moving. Jerome held his breath; they were just twenty feet away with only a catwalk between them. If the Chosen looked up, with their vision they would easily spot Jerome and the other two. Jerome didn’t risk moving, the noise might be enough to tip them off.

  He saw movement, his eyes flickering to someone moving through pipes. They were wearing Trooper fatigues with an AMR on their back, and their armor and smart clothes had been painted like the factory machines to break up its outline.

  The Trooper seemed to sense Jerome’s eyes, tilting his head at Jerome.

  He leaped out of his pipe cover, his magnetic lead clamping onto a PAC. He descended, twin vibra-blades coming out of their sheaths. He stabbed into the first PAC’s neck and the other three turned in shock. The Trooper jumped, lancing another in the chest, turning his blade and rolling free, touching the ground and flipping over a blade and the Chosen behind it.

  He turned in the air, his lead pulling him to the attacker, and his blade ripped through their neck as he jumped for the last PAC. They swiped at him, and he pushed off of the man’s weapon arm, then bounced off the wall as the PAC’s arm came across at the Trooper.

  They held out a blade, the PAC cutting their arm on it as the second blade darted up into the rear of the PAC’s head.