Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2)

by Michael Chatfield

  Chosen. Why is it that religious fighters always have some connotation that they are the select few able to do what they were told to do? He sighed as Captain Harold’s replacement, Captain Sholtz, informed him that their enemy was pushing through the refined metals storage area.

  Sholtz had the situation under control so Nerva left him to it, turning to the last report he’d held, a reading from Masoul Actual.

  It had been written up by Mark, and it seemed that he, Dashtund, Dominguez, and Ali might get an opportunity to see if the powered armor was a reality and if it was, then they might be able to pilot it and find out where the other sets were being held.

  Haas and the flight team had wandered around checking out the various landing pads and terrain the troopers would have to cover to get into the towers.

  Jerome was borrowing the shuttle crew and Iliev to go down to the various water reclamation, heat exchange, and atmospheric controls. They probably knew them better than the people that kept them running.

  Zukic and the rest were out creating maps of the towers. They mapped the tunnels that connected them, the defenses across the inside of the towers, and those on the surface.

  Nerva checked the message he’d been given from Colonel Sangh.

  In five months they would start pushing up operations on Shipping Station once again. After that the team on the ground only had as long as it took to get back on the carriers and get to Masoul Actual.

  “So, who is pulling their strings?” Nerva asked NIDenise, knowing full well that General Wai would have used this to push the troopers hard through Shipping Station just to hit Masoul Actual before they got any good intel from the platoon on the ground… just because they were Nerva’s people and she could blame it on him.

  “Selvra,” NIDenise said.

  That made Nerva tap the floor next to him in thought.

  “Why?” Nerva asked.

  “He needs us to show a definitive victory, he also thinks that this isn’t the end of Harmony. Harper seems to have come from Osdal,” NIDenise said anticipating his first question.

  “But...,” he started.

  “He’s willing to waste the resources because he wants more information. With the powered armor rumors he’s focused himself on this and this alone. If Haas and his platoon confirm that there’s powered armor on Masoul Actual, then in his mind it’s just a testing bed for what Osdal might have. He’s drafted up orders to have powered armor made up if it is the case,” she said.

  “Is it?” Nerva asked. He knew that while on operation within the EMF he had to limit the amount of information that he couldn’t easily explain. This definitely fell in this category and NIDenise was waging an internal battle to protect her user and also uphold those mandates.

  “You will find out soon enough,” NIDenise said, going with a neutral answer.

  “Is this only linked to Osdal?” Nerva asked.

  “Nivad believes so,” NIDenise answered.

  “What does the legion know?” Nerva asked knowing that Earth and her colonies’ tech was several generations behind legion tech at the best. At the worst it wasn’t even in the same league.

  “I cannot confirm or deny anything unless you choose to return to the legion,” NIDenise said, clearly not liking the answer she could not give.

  Nerva tapped his fist on the floor a few times.

  “Shit,” he said, reading between the lines. He knew that NIDenise could read his thoughts but she made no comment on them.

  As NIDenise had evolved as all NIAI’s do, she had gained the ability to inflect emotions in her tone, Nerva had his answer whether she wanted to give it to him or not.

  He glanced around at the troopers cleaning their guns, talking and eating, waiting to be pushed up to attack the Chosen. Killing time and taking their minds off of their task with idle chatter.

  He had seen soldiers like them the universe over, he knew war better than he knew women. And felt that this one was only just beginning.

  Chapter 34

  Landing City

  Masoul Actual, Masoul System

  7/3241

  Tony and Mark had hung out for the last six months, going from friendly enforcers to full on bromance.

  Tony was an okay dude, well he would be if he wasn’t so wrapped up in Harmony talk, hated troopers for no reason other than being told to, and had a mean streak where women were concerned.

  Mark swallowed his bile and repressed his usual somatic response, thankfully it looked to have paid off as Tony led him through checkpoint after checkpoint.

  “Weapons,” an enforcer said, looking at Mark blankly.

  “Sorry dude, them’s the rules,” Tony said, pulling out his own weapons. “It’s worth it though,” he said, laying his duster on his gear.

  Mark shrugged and dropped all of his weapons except the two blades under his arms.

  “Better be right,” Mark said, as the enforcer stepped forward and patted him down. “Watch it, pervert,” Mark said. Tony laughed, as the enforcer sighed, obviously he’d heard the line a few too many times for it to be interesting anymore.

  “Good,” the enforcer said, letting Mark past, and the other enforcer let Tony go a few seconds later.

  Mark was recording everything but not transmitting a thing, he didn’t want anyone catching onto the signal. It was a small chance but he wasn’t going to risk it with the possible importance of this mission.

  Tony slapped him on the back as they entered armored doors that had been added to the tower. This whole facility looked like it had been cut out of the rock after Harmony had become a thing.

  “Welcome to Research and Development,” Tony said, as they walked out into what looked like the maintenance facilities on Gas Planet’s extractors. Catwalks ringed three walls, above him, in front of him, and to his left.

  While the catwalks in front and above ringed a large open area, the catwalks to his left extended backwards showing machinery similar to the extractors, but less cylindrical for gases, with more hard lines and corners.

  Mark didn’t even try to figure out what it all meant as his eyes fell on the fifty or so objects that stood in the open area in front of those catwalks.

  “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” Mark said, looking at the fifty suits of powered armor. They looked like human shells, cracked open to reveal padding and sensors below. Cords ran from them to various consoles and into different ports.

  Techs moved over the suits, putting the final touches to them.

  Guns were pointed at Mark. He looked behind - the wall without catwalks was a range.

  “Course I wasn’t; think I’d lie to you buddy?” Tony grinned slapping him on the back.

  Probably not, but I’d sure as hell lie to you, Mark thought, grinning at the other man who grinned back.

  “Come on, they still need applicants to try out these things. I know you and the rest of Mr. Moretti’s enforcers are biting at the bit to try these things out, but we’ve got to talk to Stan the Man and then hopefully Mr. Moretti will let us test you guys. If you pass, we’ll be putting a whole lot of pain into the troopers,” Tony assured Mark. He was walking ahead so he missed Mark’s thoughtful look as, not for the first time, he considered putting a blade into the man’s neck.

  Stan was a fat man behind a console.

  Mark was actually surprised, but it seemed that from him stemmed the technical ability to get these projects from blueprints to reality. So Harmony kept him well fed, looked after all of his needs, and he built them toys to kill with.

  Mark crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, touching the blades under his arms, as Tony talked to Stan.

  It would be so easy to take out one of Harper's closest guards and his techie. Again Mark had to push down the murderous thoughts.

  Stan sighed and turned, looking over at Mark. His eyes widened and he nodded in appreciation.

  “Alright, Mark you’ll get your shot. I don’t usually give most wannabes a chance at my babies but Tony’s twis
ted my arm. If you can use a suit of powered armor and run a test my people will set out, then I’ll think about letting your group try out,” Stan said, his bored tone making it clear he didn’t think Mark had it in him.

  “Thank you, for Harmony’s sake,” Mark said, saluting, the motion automatic and disgusting to Mark.

  Stan tossed a salute back, he didn’t seem to care about decorum as he went back to his computer.

  “Come on, Mark, let’s get you set up,” Tony said, heading for the door. “Thanks, Stan!”

  “Don’t break my fucking suit, Tony!” Stan yelled, not turning from his computer.

  They walked back down catwalks, getting out of the tech’s ways; enforcers didn’t faze them in here.

  “You better damned well make Stan eat his boots in excitement. I just had to call in all my favors with him to let you try one of these beauties out,” Tony said, giving Mark a look.

  “Thanks, Tony, I owe you man,” Mark said, meaning it, as he pictured putting a blade through his neck in his mind’s eye.

  “Just don’t fuck up too horribly,” Tony said.

  They reached the powered armor and a red-haired tech moved forward, she looked Mark over with disdain; bugs might have gotten more interest from her.

  “Come on, we don’t have all day and my people are going to need extra time to buff out your fuck-ups. Get in,” she said, working on her surface and gesturing to a suit with her head.

  Mark moved to it, walking around it.

  It was new but crude. The armor panels seemed to have been hammered, welded, and ground into position. The matte black paint had scratches showing the grey armor underneath.

  He could see the joints and servo motors, where armor had been left off in several places, and he eyed them up for his implant’s recording.

  He turned around and stepped backwards into the armor, and under armor and sensor pads clamped down around him and his limbs.

  It held him down firmly as the front of the armor sealed around his torso, bolts locking into position, and screws tightening.

  The helmet came down locking over his face, there was a moment of panic as everything was dark. Then the helmet came to life, showing the room around him.

  “Can I run a diagnostic?” Mark asked, reverting to his training of checking his gear.

  “Yes, go into the menu and select run checks,” the red-haired tech looked up from her surface for the first time, quickly going back to it.

  Mark ran the diagnostic in the background and ran through the suit’s information. He didn’t care to read it all, but recorded it for someone to play back later at a slower speed.

  The suit showed all green lights.

  Mark disengaged power and locking units from the armor, turning on the internal batteries.

  They were rated to last eight hours unless changed out or recharged.

  In combat they were rated for two hours. Both useful pieces of information.

  Mark stepped forward tentatively, he’d dialed down the power amplification to just level one.

  There was a little bounce to his step, but he adjusted for it.

  “Okay, run along the proscribed route,” the tech said, sounding interested? Mark didn’t pay attention as a route, a series of wire boxes filled with semi-transparent screens, made his circuit around the open area. He moved, adjusting to the new bouncing steps, it wasn’t that hard to accommodate for. His body was acclimatized to nearly two gravities, and adjusting to using less of his power was a trick all troopers used.

  He looked at his hand it was actually inside his forearm with a glove over it, but as he touched his fingers together, the hand responded.

  “I’m upping the power on the suit,” Mark said, putting more into the legs, trying to get the balance between moving forward and keeping his height down so he didn’t go into the ceiling.

  The route changed, weaving through the targets, and Mark used a wall to turn and headed through. The path turned towards the catwalks; he had to jump on a wall to get onto the catwalk, and people yelled and moved out of his way as he hit goal after goal. He was on the catwalk above the entrance, near the start of the catwalks to the left when his next goal appeared a level up on the wall opposite the entrance.

  He jumped off the second-floor catwalk, using the railings to slow himself. He threw himself sideways, underestimating the powered armor as he went through the target and into the wall. The course evaporated, and as Mark looked back, the catwalk looked like it might need repairing.

  He’d also gone into the wall, a human-sized impression crumbled around him as he extracted himself.

  The red-haired tech was staring at him; hell everyone was staring at him.

  “Could you come down here, please?” The red-haired one said.

  Mark shrugged, finding he wasn’t able to in the suit. He dialed down the power again and stepped off of the third-floor catwalk. He crouched, the legs absorbing his impact. It seemed to him like there was an automated landing system, and he made note of it, trying to milk as much information from the suit as possible. He tried different view types, seeing in a greenish night vision - it was terrible and without depth, but functional.

  He opened the helmet, looking to the tech and Tony.

  “I’ll help out with fixing up the decking if you need it,” Mark said, seeing that he’d also winged the catwalk where he’d jumped to the second floor.

  The railing was bent in; he’d hardly felt it.

  “Fuck the catwalk, that’s the best we’ve seen yet, most people get cocky as hell and jump into the ceiling. I haven’t seen anyone run a diagnostic yet. Your ability to not only start off small, but know when to up the power output, that’s impressive. No one’s had the coordination to go through those targets, let alone those acrobatics over the catwalks.” She shook her head, and Tony who was standing behind her grinned at Mark.

  “Tony, you said there were others like Mark interested in the powered armor?” she said looking to Mark and Tony.

  “Yeah Mr. Moretti’s enforcers, just like Mark, all of them are interested in checking out the ‘bots,” Tony said.

  The tech winced, rubbing her temples.

  “Powered armor Tony, not robots, they’ve got real people in them, not some remote controller kilometers away,” she sighed, looking at Mark.

  “Bring them down here when you can. If they can do anything remotely like that,” she gestured to the catwalks and Mark in one go, “then they’ve got a spot in the program. Sooner the better,” she said, her eyes boring into Mark. It was the only reference Mark had heard from someone in Harmony that the conflict at Shipping Station wasn’t going as well as the news outlets said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mark replied, smiling.

  Fancy new set of powered armor, information for the major, and if everything goes to plan, we’ll be in these beasties instead of Harper’s goons. Mark was feeling okay about not killing Tony and Stan now. The day was still young though.

  “Now, how do I get out of this thing?” Mark asked.

  “That can only happen with a harness or a cutting torch. If you can’t get out, then the troopers can’t get in, just step back in the harness and it’ll pull the armor off you,” she said.

  “Gotcha,” said Mark, still getting used to his new walk. He didn’t want to crush a gear or go flying off.

  He settled into the harness, locking pins holding him in position, and leaving him unable to move. Bolts unlocked and screws loosened, panels opened and tubes connected to hidden ports.

  Mark stepped out looking at the inviting open shell.

  ***

  “Well that certainly changes things,” Haas sighed. They were in the tunnels used by the resistance.

  Sasaki and Ali were escorting Moretti around, leaving the rest of them off duty.

  They’d gone separate ways, only to link up in an abandoned cave. Jerome had found it a few weeks ago and this was the first time using it.

  Dooks and Tal were lookouts, making sure no one int
errupted.

  The information was sensitive and explosive. Harmony had at least fifty sets of powered armor. Mark had an in for them all, and with his tutoring Jerome felt they had a good chance to try out as powered armor users.

  The problem was them having the powered armor in the first place. They needed to find out if there was anymore and get rid of it as soon as possible.

  The plan was coming along nicely, everyone was working on their own section, and no one talked to anyone about it. That way unless they were all captured then the enemy wouldn’t know the full story.

  “Yes and no,” Tyler said. “Yes, we need to take down more people and items. No, because it means that hopefully we’ll be in the heart of their secret. We’ll be able to gather more information there and maybe find out where Harper comes from so the higher-ups can go mess up the CEO playing this game.”

  Moretti had impressed into them that this wasn’t the first time a system’s rebellion had been started by an outside player. Ten times out of ten it was some CEO that wanted to get an edge over the competition.

  Since Nivad Selvra had come into power, it had happened twice. The two former CEOs were working the harshest mines in Mintran for all of their extended lives. Nivad had paid for them to be transported there and a hundred years of anti-aging therapies.

  Moretti assured them that whoever had come up with this latest plan would not enjoy it when Nivad got to them.

  Moretti had looked pretty pleased with himself when he’d let that little tidbit drop as Jerome and Haas had been walking through a warehousing district.

  Moretti never talked about being Nivad’s agent or the fact they were troopers in his own home.

  The man was paranoid as all hell, something that the rest had come to emulate. If he thought that the home was bugged, then it didn’t hurt to follow suit.

  Which made these meet-ups and walking around with Moretti worth all the more.

  “If we can get the rest of our plans in place, then having the powered armor or not they’re screwed. With it, it just means that we’ll have some more destructive power in our hands, instead of theirs and maybe we can use that to really mess with their plans as our people start raining down,” Zukic said.