Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Alexis Xin, please follow the red line for testing,” Alexis looked to the other two expectantly. Mark saw a bit of nervousness in her eyes. He didn’t miss Tyler’s hand grabbing hers and giving her a reassuring squeeze, or the way she returned it.

  Quentin looked at them all.

  “Look after yourselves and those in your squad, listen to order but think for yourselves. If you can, get more training than in basic, take the pay cut for staying awake. That time could keep you alive on your first drop,” Quentin said, looking to us all as if we were no longer subordinates to him, but had entered a group exclusive to those that he believed to be his peers.

  “We will,” Mark said, Tyler nodding while Alexis looked as if she was regretting the whole thing.

  “Good, then get your testing done, W3C will always be there for you, all of you now,” Quentin said with feeling, his eyes falling on Alexis who straightened.

  He took another moment to look us over, as if impressing our faces into his memory. With that he turned to the doors and headed out to meet the rest of the W3C crew that were waiting for him.

  “Come on,” Mark said, his footsteps heavy as he followed the red line on the floor that led to an armored door.

  Running now would mean that troopers would be dispatched to bring you back, no one made it past the courtyard. Once you touched your chip to that scanner, the EMF owned your ass unless you were deemed as useless, you died, or somehow survived till your thirty-five-year contract was up.

  The door let them through, medics wearing the red cross of their trade on their shoulder pushed applicants through doors.

  “You three, over here, one per door!” One of the medics said, calling them out.

  “See you on the other side,” Tyler said, holding his wrist up.

  “Been some time since we did this,” Mark said, they both grinned, tapping their wrists three times and shoulder barging one another.

  Tyler laughed as they separated and walked to their doors.

  Alexis shook her head at their antics.

  The door opened for Mark and he stepped inside.

  He found himself in a room the size of a large closet, lights went off for a few seconds and then came back on before panic could overcome him. Another door opened and he found a medical person an examining table and a few cabinets along the room’s walls.

  “Scans look good, do you have any augments?” They asked working on a tablet and not even looking up at Mark.

  “I have one I want to get put in,” Mark said, remembering the tech in his dusters pocket.

  “Let’s see it.” The medical person held out their hand, Mark hesitated for a second before putting it in the medic's hand.

  “Where the hell did you get this?” The medic asked, changing from bored worker to intrigued medic, putting away the tablet and pulling out a scanner.

  “Gift from my boss,” Mark said.

  “Damn, actually purchased part, with a sanction for implantation. I can put it in you right now,” the medic said.

  “Umm,” Mark said, unsure.

  “It'll be free, I just want to see how this puppy works, this thing is sweet,” the medic grinned.

  “Sure, what do I have to do?” Mark said looking around the room.

  “Lie down, I'll put you out, get this in and you'll be good,” the medic said, moving to a cabinet.

  “Is there a way I can stay conscious?” Mark asked, not happy with the idea of being knocked out with someone holding onto this augment.

  The medic looked unhappy but sighed.

  “You newbies are always less trusting, makes sense coming from the slums,” the medic said, moving to the other side of the room and grabbing tools.

  “I can do it, but I suggest you look at the ceiling, getting your guts cut open is an odd experience to see and not feel,” they said, pulling out a rolling table, putting various tools, needles and the augment on it.

  “That's fine,” Mark said, his voice calmer than he felt.

  “Good then, on the table, lie down,” they said, coming back to Mark, their rolling table now with a collection of tools on it.

  The medic brought over a tray of medical instruments and the augment.

  He injected Mark with three needles before he could start to complain. He stopped feeling his side as the medic pulled out a laser, opening along his lower ribs.

  “Fuck me,” Mark said, breathing heavily as the medic pulled out the augment, hit a button as small hair-thin lines moved outwards.

  “This is going to feel uncomfortable,” the medic warned, retracted the augments lines and putting it up and into Mark's ribcage.

  “Almost,” the medic said, sounding calm as hell. Mark felt like he was watching someone else get their innards played with, but the feeling of pressure on his back made him feel the blood drain from his face.

  Calm down, he's done this before. Mark thought, looking at the ceiling.

  “Done,” the medic said, their hand coming out a little bloody. They sprayed something into the wound which started to clear up.

  “It will feel odd for a few days, but it won't hurt, you have any problems talk to your unit medic. I'm putting it on your file now.” They pulled out their tablet, “Those nano-machines are awesome, and they’re already integrating into your systems and starting to get to work. It’s running an internal scan of you. Damn I wish every person had this, its instantaneous information and self-repair!” The medic squealed.

  “Thanks,” Mark said, another needle snaked its way into his leg.

  “No, thank you I don’t get to see this tech, like, ever!” They grabbed a needle, jabbing it into Mark’s leg.

  Feeling returned to his body and he felt, fine. Well it felt like the area under his right peck was itchy, but it wasn't painful or annoying.

  Another needle snaked into his arm.

  “You love those things don't you?” Mark grunted.

  “And last, but not least, you get a new chip.” The medic pulled a clamp looking thing from the side of the bed.

  “Arm,” they said holding out their hand.

  Mark offered his limb, getting it pushed into the clamp and sealed.

  It made a hissing noise as he felt something being stamped into his flesh. Thankfully he didn't have to see it and it felt more odd than painful.

  “You're all done now,” the medic said with a grin. The clamp opened and Mark had a longer scar where his original identity chip had been located.

  “Thanks doc,” Mark said, getting off of the table and heading through the next doors before the medic could think to do anything else with his body.

  He walked out of the room greeted by a row of kiosks like the ones in the lobby. Mark looked around for the other two.

  “Did you get yours in?” Tyler asked from behind Mark.

  Mark lifted up his shirt to show the pencil-thin line under his rib.

  “Same,” Tyler showed a similar line under his rib. “Shoulda told them to knock me out,” Tyler muttered.

  Mark laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder.

  “Hurry up recruits!” The two bronze lines over a dot on her shoulder marked her as a sergeant.

  She watched recruits come out of the medical wings, probably put there for the very act of pushing the recruits along with a stiff glare and her loud voice.

  “Yes Sergeant,” Mark said, getting an odd look from the woman.

  Mark saw other sergeants yelling at recruits, some bodily pushing the crying and scared individuals.

  They caught sight of Alexis, Tyler waved her over.

  Out in the slums they might be from rival gangs, but in here there were no gangs, just troopers. Mark was already finding it nice to have at least two faces he knew in the crowd.

  Alexis followed after them, stepping up to a kiosk.

  “Next of Kin?” The new screen asked. This kiosk wasn’t the polished wood and steel of the lobby, instead it was utilitarian rough aluminum and good ole crystal matrix glass.

&nb
sp; Mark and Tyler said one another's names, grinning to one another.

  “Do you have an account or wish to make one?” The robot asked.

  Mark pulled out his account details and pushed them through the slip at the bottom of the blast-proof glass.

  “Account verified and updated to your chip. Proceed through to sanitation and depository to your left.”

  The group pulled together again and headed for the door. They headed into cubicles on the other side.

  “Place all belongings into storage box to your right,” a voice said, Mark did so, and Quentin had talked them through the process of signing up so this didn't alarm him.

  He stripped down, leaving only his smart-cloth bands on his upper arms and the blades under his arms. “Are you done?”

  “Yes.” The box disappeared with all of his belongings and a spray covered him. His skin tingled as he washed himself.

  The hair covering his body seemed to dissolve, he reached up to touch the hair on his head in alarm. It felt clean but not much shorter than its usual length.

  The water, or whatever it was stopped and dryers started. A new box with a plain grey smart-clothes appeared. He put them on, the cloth forming to his body. It felt as if he was wrapped in a thick sweater, it was comforting.

  The fact that Mark knew it was marginally bulletproof made him even more comfortable. He'd been forced to leave the armor he usually wore under his clothes back at the tower.

  A door opened as soon as he was done.

  People all with the same haircut and smart clothes were moving to the only door in the room.

  Mark waited for Tyler and Alexis.

  Tyler came out of his cubicle, rubbing his head, clearly unhappy.

  “I was hoping the boss was lying about that part,” he said, grieving for his lost hair.

  Alexis came out her hair trimmed but not shortened.

  “She gets long hair, why couldn't I?”

  “You still look fine pretty boy,” she said, rolling her eyes while Mark laughed. Tyler shot dirty looks at the two of them.

  “Before we go on, let's agree that the past is the past, unless we're on leave or done with this, the gangs stay on Earth,” Mark said, offering his hand to Alexis.

  “Agreed,” Alexis said, offering her first real smile that Mark had ever seen.

  “Onto the transport,” Tyler said jumping in the middle, putting his arms on both their shoulders and propelling them forward.

  Alexis pinched him, getting him to pull away.

  “Ow! What was that for, I thought we were friends!”

  “Doesn't mean I want your arms all over me,” Alexis said with a smile.

  “Too soon eh?” Tyler said with a wink, he moved on before she could say anything else.

  Mark saw the look of outrage mixed with perhaps just a little note of curiosity.

  Interesting. Mark thought, looking between the two of them, before shrugging and following Tyler.

  Elevators waited for them on the other side. These elevators held seats as soon as one was filled then the doors would close and rise upwards, a new elevator rising up out of the ground.

  Tyler led to a newly arrived lift. They quickly took their seats. People looked around in wonder; most of them had probably never been told what was going to happen when they touched their chip to the receptacle at the front kiosk.

  It wasn't long before their elevator sealed and they shot upwards.

  “Well that is one hell of a sight,” Tyler said, looking to the side of the lift, it looked out over Earth; red dust covered everything outside of the bubble that covered mega-city. Dust seemed to stop outside the invisible wall that covered mega city, swirling all around but never making it past the barrier.

  Mark could make out a train stop in the distance; westerly-sector was too far away from the citadel to even see.

  That life was gone now he knew.

  The elevator stopped and they came to a new area surrounding the elevator were airlocks, Mark only knew them from what Quentin had described and drawn.

  Mark and Tyler headed for the nearest with a NOW BOARDING sign above it. Alexis and others from the elevator followed. The airlock was open as Mark saw inside his very first combat shuttle.

  Seats lined the walls and centerline of the shuttle, making the people in the center look at those along the wall.

  Mark looked at the drop-plates below the seats and the wire lines that would attach to a person's armor if they were doing a drop onto a planet.

  He and Tyler sat opposite one another, Alexis sitting next to Tyler. The combat shuttle smelt like ozone, metal and grease. There wasn't an inch of rust on the whole thing.

  “Get in your seats and seal your harnesses, if you don't know how to, ask,” the Cargo Master barked as he walked through, walking over to those that clearly didn't know how to use the harness but weren't going to ask.

  He got them sealed away amongst annoyed looks and a few choice words about the person occupying the seats ability to think.

  Mark pulled the lower harness up and into place before slamming the upper harness down, locking all four pieces across his chest, they compressed, pushing him into his seat. A few let out confused noises as the harness tightened.

  The Cargo Master hit the combat shuttle's side door closed and went through checking each harnesses by pulling on them.

  “Good to go Pella,” the Cargo Master said, walking to his own seat as locks disengaged from the airlock.

  The combat shuttle lifted up and turned, there was no seeing outside as windows were just another weakness that space would exploit to kill everyone inside and only when they had helmets with HUDS would they be able to jack into the combat shuttle's exterior sensors.

  The combat shuttle accelerated forward at an alarming rate, tilting and heading into a steep climb the noise of the engine and atmosphere fighting their climb, nearly drowning out everything.

  Tyler grinned letting out a whoop.

  Mark laughed. People around the shuttle looked as if they were enjoying the ride as much as them. It was too much for at least one of them as they puked all over themselves.

  “If you're going to throw up, puke on the floor, the drain will take care of it.” The Cargo Master sounded annoyed with people's need to throw up, but they knew it was an eventuality.

  A few people took him up on the advice, the smell was nasty but as long as they got it on the floor then jets pushed their vomit to the drain.

  The rattling stopped suddenly.

  “Welcome to space germs and worms,” the Cargo Master said with the bored tone of someone that had said that saying a few too many times for it to be interesting anymore.

  It wasn't that long before the sounds of locks could be heard and felt through the combat shuttle's walls.

  “Alright, time for boot camp newbies, so get off my combat shuttle!” The Cargo Master barked as harnesses unlocked and moved to the combat shuttle occupant’s sides in unison.

  “The door won't open,” someone at the door said.

  Mark used his larger size to wade through the people amidst grumbles and complaints. Mark didn’t pay them any notice. Join the EMF, fly in combat shuttles, have airlocks stop functioning. This is about as shit as Richter said it would be. Mark smiled to himself as he continued to push his way through recruits.

  “Sort it out,” the Cargo Master said, seeing to his own duties.

  Mark got to the airlock and checked the light panel next to the door.

  “Cargo Master, it looks like the locks aren't fully engaged. And the air in the connecting airlock hasn't been pumped through,” Mark said.

  “Seems there's at least one smart one in this group, seal her up and connect us will you Pella,” the Cargo Master said though his implant.

  Another lock rumbled into place and air pumped into the airlock chamber that separated the combat shuttle from whatever lay on the other side.

  “If anyone of you tried to force that door open then we would all be dead. Don't f
uck with airlocks and if something doesn't work then get someone else to deal with it that knows better. Don't screw with shit you don't know and get a fucking adult,” the Cargo Master said, looking over the newbies. The airlock door opened into an area that seemed to go the length of the carrier, the predatory combat shuttles that were secured to the deck told Mark it was the flight deck.

  “Now get off my combat shuttle and remember that everything in space wants to kill you, it only takes one fuck up,” the Cargo Master growled.

  That was all the sightseeing Mark had time for as Corporals, Master Corporals and Sergeants yelled them into lines and onto lifts that took them up a number of decks.

  More trained troopers yelled them out of the lifts into an area so green that it hurt his eyes.

  I haven't seen so much green in all my life. He thought, looking around the massive room that was covered in what must be grass. There were taller things which looked something like the trees he'd seen in the growing gardens.

  “Move it Recruits!” A master corporal barked at the recruits piling off of the combat shuttle. “Get some goddamn life in your bodies! I want three ranks facing me! That means three deep and spread to my right, follow the footsteps! Move it, I ain't your damned orphan mother!”

  Mark and Tyler were amongst the first to make their way to the painted feet on the floor.

  The Master Corporal was unrelenting as they yelled at people to find their positions. The way that she held herself and the confidence that seemed to radiate off of her would make any gang member think twice about mouthing off to her. Those that did were swiftly slapped upside the head as she singled them out. Anything else from them and she made a comment about putting their useless ass back in gravity and in the slums.

  This combination of threats served to get people into order.

  “I've seen spit move faster than your slum asses!” She said looking thoroughly disgusted with all of their performances.

  “In the next three weeks I will have the pain of pushing you through basic, which basically means I have to make sure you don't fuck over the real fighters. You will learn how to shoot, move and survive as troopers in Earth's military forces.” She marched in front of them, her eyes finding them wanting.