The PAC began falling, dead, as the Trooper cut into the PA and ripped out an air canister. He jumped off his lead, pulling him out of the area.
“This is Company Sergeant Major Jerome to the Trooper that just killed five PACs. Come with us, we can get you to safety,” Jerome hissed on the Trooper communication channels.
“Ahhh, that trick isn’t working on me legionary, now get out of my helmet. I’ll find my own damned way home. You use my friend’s name again I’ll hunt you down myself.”
Jerome looked to Dashtund and Dominguez, his eyes going wide. They all knew that voice.
Jerome ran and jumped off of the catwalk, using his magnetic lead to pull himself in the direction the Trooper had gone.
“Mark, you fucking bastard, get your ass over here. It’s me, Jerome, I’ve got Dashtund and Dominguez with me.”
“Trying my patience here,” Mark replied.
“Well then, come out and try to fight me you big damned monkey,” Jerome said.
“Don’t feel like getting captured again, so nope.”
“Well get out of this area then, we’re calling down artillery,” Jerome said.
“Thanks for the heads up whoever you are, you’re really good at imitating my friend’s voice. Now kindly fuck off.” Mark shut the channel.
Jerome, Dashtund, and Dominguez looked around as best as they could, searching for the Trooper that had talked with Mark’s voice.
Jerome felt hope flare up in his chest as they saw two other groups of Chosen that had been cut down.
“Mark if this is you, we’ll leave supplies where Tyler took the shot,” Jerome said, hoping for a reply, but nothing came as the trio waited.
They were low on food, water and air, and they needed to get back to base camp.
“Let’s go,” Dashtund said, but no one moved. “Look, if that is Mark Victor, the damned stubborn bastard is not going to come back from the dead to get killed again. He can handle himself. He made it this far, so we leave him supplies at that observation point and then we get back to the line. Next time we come out we check on the position and see if the supplies are gone. If they are, then it’s Mark, if not, then it’s someone else.”
“When did you turn into the voice of reason?” Dominguez asked.
“I have my moments.”
“Let’s go,” Jerome said. They made their way to the room from where Tyler had shot the Chosen leader; it was less room and more torn up metal from Chosen shooting it up. They deposited rounds, extra batteries, food and other supplies. Jerome flicked his right arm, a blade coming to his wrist where the smart cloth had connected to make an air-tight seal.
He opened it getting a chill as air rushed out and he pulled out the blade that Mark and Tyler had given him. He sealed up his smart clothes again and put it on top of the pile of supplies.
“Not a word to the others, we don’t want them to get their hopes up only to have them come crashing down,” Jerome said.
Chapter 53
Factory Complex Three
Blue Moon, Fernix System
4/3295
Mark woke with a start, his AMR pointing at the person that was perched at the entrance to his hide, buried in the midst of a series of pipes above machinery.
“Well, aren’t you a sneaky fucker,” Mark said, using sub-vocals, noting that they had an E-12 but it was slung and they were wearing Trooper clothing.
“Do you know how hard it is to find you?” The man asked, his voice sounding clearer than one would with just using sub-vocals. Mark didn’t see his mouth moving.
Weird.
Mark shrugged, he didn’t know why he didn’t just blow the guy away. He knew that he could shoot him before he got that E-12 unlimbered, but they were talking to him instead of throwing a grenade into his hide. Plus, he was interested in how the wily bastard had found his hidey hole this time.
This was not the first time, but the last eleven times he had found out that they were creeping up on him, and had made his escape.
Whoever they were, they were determined.
“Mind if I take a seat? You can take the E-12 if you want,” Legionary Asaul said.
“Chuck it to your side, grab it by the barrel,” Mark said.
The man did so and took a seat.
“Nerva said that you were a bit paranoid, hell, he said you’d be a big problem to extract,” Asaul said, leaning back against the pipes as if the AMR pointed at him was of no concern.
“Talking about a dead man I think of as a father is not going to help you,” Mark growled, his hand tightening on his rifle.
“To tell you or not? That is the question,” Asaul studied Mark intently.
Mark’s features darkened visibly; he was not interested in this man’s games.
“No, not yet, maybe later, but for now we’ll keep that a secret, sorry. Before you run off or shoot me, let me tell you what my job is,” Asaul said. He was good at reading people. That was exactly what Mark had been thinking about.
“Go on,” Mark grunted.
“Think of me as a recruiter; I am sent here to gather up the best of the EMF. I represent a group that have certain issues, who need people with your kind of skill set,” Asaul said.
“Killing people,” Mark interjected.
“People would be putting it at an extreme,” Asaul said, his tone changing from cordial to angry, his jaw flexing.
“You Ministry of Intelligence?” Mark asked.
“Nope, we are not part of the EHC.”
“So some kind of vigilantes?”
“Something like that. Anyway, my bosses really want you to join us. You are one of the most promising recruits.”
“I’m not going to leave my friends and people behind,” Mark said harshly. He’d died once protecting his people, and he would gladly do it again. Though while he was alive he wasn’t going to leave them alone.
“All of the Triple-Twos are slated for recruitment offers. Nearly the entire force under Nerva’s control is slated for recruitment offers, actually. The man knows how to train Troopers,” Asaul said, with something like respect in his voice.
“So, let me get this right: you want to recruit me for something that deals with me killing things?” Mark asked.
“Pretty much.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I already signed up for that once and that’s why I’m here, best and worst decision I made in my life. So, thank you, but, no thank you,” Mark made to stand.
“When you get bored of this and want to fight the real war, to fight as a soldier instead of a mercenary, let me know. I’ve seen it in you, Mark. You’re not a mercenary. You hated Sacremon, both for what you had to do and what it meant. When you think it’s the end, and you want a way out, let me know. Me or someone will be there. Though one thing,” Asaul said, standing, Mark’s weapon following him.
“What?”
“This conversation never happened and you never woke up in a nanite vat. You were captured by Harmony, you woke up and escaped, understood?” Asaul’s cordiality faded away, turning to the voice of a sergeant talking to a new private.
The tone grated on Mark’s nerves but he understood the meaning behind it. If these people were capable of running around the battlefield freely, and could track him, then they were not an enemy he wanted to have.
“Understood. I’ll keep your secret, Legionary Asaul.”
“Thank you, Mark Victor. I hope that one day we see one another again,” Asaul turned and jumped out of the piping’s opening.
Mark left Asaul’s E-12 and moved deeper into the pipes, running through a tube with hardened paste covering it.
He was less than three kilometers from the Troopers’ lines. It was time that he went home.
Hopefully they don’t accidentally shoot me, Mark thought as he moved. He was close as hell, but it would take time to get past the Chosen and the Troopers.
Mark had learned a good few things about the Chosen, and sneaking around, while he had been making his way back.
He wanted to just run into the Trooper camp, but he knew that would just get him killed, he needed to play this smart. He didn’t have identity codes and no one could tell who he really was by his armor or smart clothes, and he was covered in paint and dust to make himself look like the factories instead of a person.
Chapter 54
Factory Complex Three
Blue Moon, Fernix System
5/3295
Ortiz walked around the perimeter. He looked no different than any other Trooper resupplying the Troopers. He carried ammunition and supplies as the Chosen took pot shots, and he talked to the Troopers, letting them know he hadn’t forgotten about them.
He was making his way through the trenches when a wall shifted and a man appeared. He was large and heavyset, wearing Trooper armor and smart clothes.
“The fuck are you doing in there?” Ortiz growled, lowering his E-12. He hadn’t slept in a while and his emotions were on a knife edge.
“Waiting, boss, didn’t want to get shot.”
Ortiz’s thoughts of berating the man turned into wide-eyed surprise as he looked at him, his armor, the rags over him, the paint. He had Chosen air canisters hooked into his helmet, two vibra-blades and his AMR.
“Who the hell are you?” Ortiz’s anger returned as he raised the rifle.
If he’s playing a fucking joke on me… he promised darkly as the visor cleared and he saw a face he never thought he’d see again.
“Oh, you fucking bastard!” Ortiz hugged Mark, not caring what his two aides thought. “The fuck have you been?”
“Making my way back here,” Mark said as they came apart. “Would you know there’s a lot of Chosen in the way. Got some things that DM’s going to be interested in.”
“You jackass, alright, come with me, there’s some people you need to see,” Ortiz said.
“Devil Dogs, cafeteria, now,” he said, greens lighting up his HUD as he patted Mark on the back and started walking towards the cafeteria bunker.
“Yeah, how are they?” Mark’s voice was tight.
Ortiz had been dealing with the losses for months, but Mark didn’t know.
Ortiz sent him a list. Mark read it as he was guided by Ortiz to a bunker. They passed through air locks and people looked at Mark’s armor and camouflage questioningly.
Mark sank onto a table, and no one made to talk to him, Ortiz’ presence kept them at bay.
Ortiz looked away as silent tears fell down Mark’s face behind his visor. He didn’t even shake. Ortiz wanted to pat the man on the back and tell him it was okay. The way he cried silently, only someone looking at his face could tell that he was crying.
Ortiz felt that this was not the first time Mark had cried to himself silently. Mark was a hard man, someone that had looked death in the eye, and walked back to his Troopers. He had gone through hell multiple times, looking out for others by sacrificing himself. He had nearly died tens of times.
He was more of a symbol than a man, and new recruits were taught about his exploits. Ortiz knew he was one of the greatest men he had ever met, but he had never seen him cry.
All of that pain, that anguish tied up inside. Mark was like some kind of statue. Yet, in those few moments, Ortiz saw the truth. Mark was who he was because he cared for his people so much. He would drive them hard, but never as hard as himself, and when they died, it took a part of his soul.
He did what he did out of care for them. Inside he was broken, a man who had given so much only to have it ripped away.
He couldn’t stop it if he wanted to, he’s always looked out for Tyler and now he looks out for his Troopers. That’s why he’s such a good Trooper, he pushes himself so much so that he can save his Troopers. It’s his strength, but it also takes a painful toll if he loses anyone.
The Devil Dogs assembled, making a half-circle around Ortiz.
Ortiz tapped Mark’s shoulder.
He opened his visor, looking away as he rubbed his eyes and stood, a foot taller than Ortiz, pulling his helmet off to reveal a grimy, long-haired, bearded face.
“Sorry I took so long, weren’t any air taxis where I was.” Mark’s smile split his face, both sad and overjoyed as Tyler ran over and embraced him before Alexis and Jerome jumped in. Wet eyes and tight arms - Mark had come back from the dead.
“Crushing me here, you mutts!” Mark laughed, but it sounded wet to Ortiz’s ears as he moved away, watching as Mark hugged his friends and his family, and the Devil Dogs welcomed back one of their own.
Ortiz didn’t know what Mark had been through and, honestly, as long as Mark was safe, he couldn’t give a damn. Their Diablo was back.
“You certainly picked one hell of a group to mentor,” Ortiz muttered to himself, smiling sadly as he looked up at the ceiling of the bunker, as if finding Nerva in those rafters.
Ortiz’ mind tried to remind him that the war was still far from over on Fernix. Another part pushed it aside, drinking in the moment.
Chapter 55
EMFC Fearless
Fernix Prime’s Orbit, Fernix System
6/3295
As soon as they were away from the rest of the crew’s eyes, Moretti hugged Mark.
“Scared the fuck out of me,” Moretti said, letting him go and sighing.
Too many of his friends had died down on Blue Moon, and Moretti was just thankful that Mark had been spared. He regarded him as a close friend, one of a very small group.
“Well, I’m back, and I’m ready to make those Chosen bastards pay,” Mark said, his voice dark. He was just getting through all of the losses and the feelings were still raw.
“Ortiz said that it might be an idea for me to debrief you. So let’s go through it all, from you waking up to getting back to the camp,” Moretti said.
“You got a map, be easier to sketch out,” Mark said, pulling up the anonymous message he had got on his implants. A feat that should be impossible. Mark couldn’t send it anywhere, but he could read it.
“Okay, so I woke up in a Chosen medical facility, around here,” Mark said, pointing to an area of the map that correlated to an image in the message.
“I picked up some powered armor from there and escaped through here,” he made a line from the medical facility through factories to where he had come into contact in the powered armor. He’d had to ditch it as reinforcements were coming in and he didn’t have any ammunition and had little power left.
“Along the way I went in various directions; at first it was to get my bearings, and it turned into scouting out the Chosen positions. I needed food, water, and air. Easiest way was to take out some PACs and take it from them.” Mark pulled out a data cube from his helmet as locations filled out the map. Mark pointed to locations, explaining what they were or what he thought they were.
He pointed out locations he had found before he pulled the helmet off a dead Trooper.
Moretti pointed to various locations, asking different questions and extracting more information that Mark thought he remembered.
Food came and left as they worked through the information.
They moved from analyzing what Mark knew, to figuring out what they could do with the information. They could wipe out the positions, but the Chosen would just make more. If they could observe them, they could pick out high priority targets and take them out.
That way, they would continue to drain the Chosen of leadership. Having leaders too scared to leave their bunkers would lead to Troopers thinking that their leaders didn’t care about them.
Mark thought of himself as a bad man, but Moretti… he knew how to play on a person’s emotions and fears. Mark shivered at the ideas that Moretti came up with.
He liked and knew Moretti, but he could see how Ministry of Intelligence operatives could be one hell of a problem if they were working against him rather than for him.
“We’re going to need you and your teams out there ready to take out targets of opportunity,” Moretti said, looking at Mark. “You up for it?” His eyes seemed t
o reach inside of Mark.
Mark knew he couldn’t blow the man off; he could spot a lie a mile away.
“Yes, I can get the mission done, but do I want to be out there again? Not really. But I know it the best and my people have a better rate of survival if I’m the one going out there. Are you going to stop me? No.”
“Thought as much. Alright, well, we’d better go and see the Devil Dogs, it’s time you got your promotion.”
“What?” Mark asked.
“The Fox Regiment doesn’t have a captain and they need one, badly. The Fox Regiment is being reinforced, so are the Devil Dogs. Higher have seen the records of both Regiments, and they want to keep the trend. You and Tyler will have to figure out how you want to break down the Devil Dogs and Foxes into two Regiments,” Moretti smiled.
“I barely know how to be a lieutenant,” Mark complained.
“Well, it seems that you know it a hell of a lot better than most. The Troopers respect you. You’re a hero in their eyes, and they would follow you into battle over most generals.”
“I’m no hero.”
“To quote an old one, heroes are made when someone fucks up. In your case, no one fucked up, it’s just the way of things. So shut up and take the promotion,” Moretti said, a wave clearing the map.
“I guess there’s no option but to take it.”
“Course not, this comes right from Ortiz and he’s becoming a lieutenant colonel,” Moretti said.
“Poor bastard.”
Chapter 56
Tower
Earth, Sol System
8/3295
“What are the results of Mark Victor’s return?” Nivad asked. He’d seen the spike in viewership as people had cheered and called him a hero. It was what Nivad was aiming for after all.
He needed heroes to dull even the biggest critics.
“He was put up for more awards, and will be given those that he was supposed to receive posthumously. The people are eating it up. He’s the perfect Trooper; deals with his duties professionally and continues on with his work without pausing. We have people applying to the EMF at an increased rate.”
Fernix (Harmony War Book 4) Page 18