Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  “This training contingent will be combined with the other twenty to see if you are worthy to make planet fall with us. If you are deemed unworthy, then you will spend the entire campaign and flight in sleep, thirty or more years will disappear like a dream and you'll be dropped off on Earth. The EMF does not have the time to send your ass back to Earth.”

  Mark didn't exactly feel a chill run down his spine but it was a close thing.

  “First we need to see if you're going to be of any use at just carrying out your physical responsibilities!”

  Chapter 4

  EMFC Reclaimer

  In transit from Sol to Sacremon

  6/3136

  The Boss had pressed in the fact that the training they had received to become Westerlies was nothing compared to the training that would turn them into troopers.

  He was right, Mark thought as he sat on his assigned bed or rack.

  The Physical training wasn’t training at all; it was hell with their assigned staff, meaning Master Corporals and above, picked up on the slightest hiccup.

  As they recovered the staff would happen to remember someone’s fuck up.

  One person’s fuck up was everyone’s fuck up. They all dropped, staring daggers at the person who’d fucked up. Or feeling the heat and anger aimed at themselves. There’s no self-loathing quite like the kind inflicted on yourself for a minor fuck up.

  They were given a section pod. The pod was simple, it was a barracks that held twelve people that made up a section, their bunk beds and the lockers that held everything except their armor and weapons. There was a shower and bathroom that connected to a pod on one side. The other side had a door leading out into the corridor.

  Other than the rubberized black decking and white lettering on various sections of the walls, everything was gunmetal grey. It isn’t as cool as it sounds. It’s as grey and mind-numbing dull. But fuck if it doesn’t sound fucking cool as shit. Mark snorted at his thoughts.

  To others it might be minimal, to the troopers it was more than they had back on Earth. Hell their beds actually had mattresses.

  With the orders to check over their gear in the lockers and make the place presentable, most made excited noises about the brand new clothes and toiletries in the lockers and drawers.

  “What in the fuck is this? Looks like a whore house filled with a bunch of genetic rejects!” Sergeant Balhauser said, barely fitting through the door with his wide frame. His eyes filled with anger and his mouth turned into a snarl, looking at the sorry excuses of flesh in front of him that might also be called recruits by others.

  “Oh, fuck I see you eyeballing me there Fucking Diez!” Balhauser said, Tyler felt his stomach drop, fear of the oncoming punishment.

  “Since Diez wants to eye fuck the shit out of me, you can all join her in a round of push ups,” Balhauser sounded almost conversational.

  Balhauser turned to Cha mid-groan.

  Twelve people got on the floor resulting in pushing and noises.

  People were territorial and the bigger pushed the smaller out from between the bunks. No one gave it a second glance, the strong survived in the slums, weak died.

  Balhauser, came around and kicked a larger boy in the face who hit his bunkmate.

  Before the boy could react, Balhauser had him in the air, holding him by the neck.

  “You fucking hit another recruit and I’ll have your fucking balls, Got me?” Balhauser said.

  The boy nodded, shamed that he’d been beaten up.

  The words might have been at the boy, but the message was clear to everyone. Don’t fuck with one another or the training staff would put you straight.

  Ain’t the slums no more, Mark thought.

  “The fuck you rest waiting on? I said get into push-up position!” Balhauser said, releasing the boy.

  People didn’t fight and got to their toes and hands. Balhauser got down with them and started doing push ups. He called out the numbers, getting the others to do the same, no one looked to Cha or the boy that Balhauser had kicked.

  “Cha, what the fuck kind of name is that, your parents not know how to spell! Did your mother want a Chai fucking Tea and you flopped out?” Balhauser said, clearly not forgetting the former.

  “Ser...” Cha started.

  “That’s a rhetorical fucking question Chai Tea! We all know your mother got knocked up with you to get a damned Chai tea! Learn how to shut the fuck up and do as you’re told. Start pumping, you just added another twenty to your section,” Balhauser looked at the newly minted Chai Tea.

  “Got something you want to say to me Chai Tea?” Balhauser asked.

  Chai Tea pressed his lips together and got to his hands and knees to do push ups.

  “Good,” Balhauser said, looking to Chai Tea for a few moments and then back to the room.

  Tyler looked straight ahead not making eye contact with anyone. He could hear the yelling in the other section’s rooms.

  “My fuck, I turn around for a second and you camel fuckers can’t even do push ups in fucking time! Let’s go for sixty fucking push ups. Follow my lead,” Balhauser dropped to the floor, his hands holding him up as he looked at them all. They copied his position.

  Balhauser lowered himself and pushed up to the top, slowly.

  “One,” he said, dropping down again, his eyes scanning as he reached the apex again.

  “Two,” he said, holding his position.

  “From now on you will call out your push ups, down will mean to hold your weak useless assess an inch off of the ground, up will mean to extend to this position,” he said, seeing he was understood.

  “When I give you an order you recognize it with Yes sergeant, you will do the same with the other enlisted ranks, and with the officers you will address them all as sir. Am I understood?” Balhauser looked to them.

  A mismatch of fuck ups came back, most getting it right but timing was all off.

  “Do you understand?” He barked.

  “Yes sergeant!” They returned, stronger and no fuck ups.

  “Fuck a doodle fuck, there might be something in there of use to this fine Earth Military Force! Down!”

  At any time, a person could say that they had enough, go and tap armory one’s bulkhead and they were taken to the spine of the ship, put in cryo, to be woken up when we got back to Earth and released from the EMF.

  After the first few days’ classes came in, we learned the history of the EMF, the roles of troopers. Theory on tactics, given familiarization with our kit, from medical supplies to the plates of armor strapped over our smart clothes.

  Fuck ups were rewarded with more Physical training, or PT. They weren’t told when their training was over and when they would become Troopers. Their flight to Sacremon was going to take nearly thirty-three years. Due to time dilation and things that Mark couldn’t wrap his head around, it would feel like thirty years. Thirty years was a lifetime.

  Their time in the auditoriums was reduced as more time was spent in the sparring areas.

  Mark and Tyler were the best brawlers in their section, but they weren’t in the same league as their staff.

  Something that Sergeant Balhauser reminded them as he took Tyler down and brought Mark to a tie.

  He’d only given Mark a small nod, Mark returning it. They might be staff member and a useless recruit, but there was a respect for the other’s skill and an understanding that they hadn’t come from sitting on their asses.

  “Well it looks like most of you know how to fight, somewhat. Now we’re going to turn those basics into skills,” Sergeant Fredrickson said.

  Sergeant Balhauser with Master Corporal’s Lastrade and Fei set to walking the ranks of recruits while Fredrickson displayed the right way to fight, a blend of more than a centuries worth of fighting techniques from across Earth.

  Richter had taught Mark and Tyler the basics, but this went well beyond it. Their reactions were honed, leading to bruises and spilt blood. None of them got past without a cut.

&nbs
p; Mark, Tyler and Alexis became close through training, the rest of the platoon turned to them with issues and the training staff turned them into section leaders.

  Tyler and Alexis got a bit closer than Mark did but this was the EMF, what happened in the crews transferred to the troopers. If you needed to blow off some steam or have a relationship, go for it, no one cared as long as you did your job.

  They trained with their issued knives, they were crude but effective, Mark and Tyler both murmured about using their own blades tucked under their arms but never brought it up. It wasn’t worth getting the platoon stuck doing PT.

  Fredrickson singled Mark out as he fought Alexis.

  “You scared to hit her or something?” She demanded, walking onto the sparring mat.

  Mark stumbled over words for an explanation. Fredrickson pushed her head into Mark’s personal space.

  “What is your fucking job?” Again Mark stumbled over his explanation.

  “To kill recruit!” She said running over his poor attempts to cobble together some kind of explanation. “That is your sole purpose, to be made into a killing machine; the EMF and I will turn you into a killer that will make the enemy piss themselves!”

  Her cold blue eyes stared into his own, he looked away first, not just because she was good looking. She was right.

  “Recruit Xin, you are relieved,” Fredrickson said, pulling a blade from the small of her back.

  Alexis bobbed her head and moved out of the sparring circle; Mark could see the other recruits were watching, the staff doing the same.

  “You can use the blades you hide on yourself,” Fredrickson said, the center of his attention as she prowled.

  He sheathed his issued blade and flicked his arms down and to the side, his forward facing hands now with blades in them.

  He moved them in his hands, their familiar grips combining with the new and old training he had.

  She squared off with him, holding her blade to the side.

  Mark had fought a good number of people with blades. She wasn’t holding it at her side because she didn’t know what to do with it.

  She wanted to build his confidence up into making a mistake; she could move that blade damn fast. If he got into her personal space but didn’t protect himself from the cross cut or stab she performed, he’d be screwed.

  “The EMF has a great number of tools that allow us as humans to become the best damned soldiers Earth has ever seen. Among them are our medical machines. We can heal cuts, internal bleeding, rebuild lost limbs and more. Getting stabbed is a minor injury. Remember your medical classes,” she cast an eye around the room but didn’t turn from Mark.

  “It is a lot better to get stabbed here than on the ground in the middle of a firefight for the first time. Only body blows, you hit someone in the head your ass is mine,” she growled. I could see the rest of the staff looking at the recruits with threatening gazes.

  So don’t stab her in the head, but put her down. Oh how I’d like to do that in a different way, Mark felt a smile on his lips at his own immature thoughts. When your adrenaline was up and you were in a shitty situation, your brain thinks of some of the weirdest possible shit.

  Mark let it happen, allowing the humor to release some of the tension and focus.

  “Something interesting Recruit?” Fredrickson asked, not pleased with his smile.

  Mark moved in closer, flicking his blades, his left down and his right up as if giving the thumbs up.

  “More like it,” she said, Mark could see the hunger in her eyes. The want, no the need to fight.

  This was the universes greatest game, human against human. Blades, skills, and bodies against one another.

  Mark’s features cooled as he took a breath. He felt clarity overcoming his adrenaline induced twitches, asserting control.

  Fredrickson saw her opening and jumped in the four feet, her blades coming up.

  Mark reacted, his left blade came up to block hers, he sensed more than saw an opening, his right blade stabbing in.

  He felt nothing as he backed away from his target. She whipped around, her blade coming back and across his back.

  He winced, his leg hitting her knee; she let out a grunt and rolled away.

  Mark waited instead of following up.

  It had all occurred in seconds, Mark hadn’t been doing anything fancy, he’d been just reacting with the training that had imprinted into his brain.

  Fredrickson’s grey sleeve was now red with blood; his left blade had cut her arm when defending.

  His right blade had caught her back, missing her more vital side. His right shoulder blade hurt, he moved it, checking mobility, growling at the pain, using it to focus more.

  “Well done recruit, there might be something worth the EMF’s time in you,” Fredrickson said, her weapon still up and ready, their fight had just begun.

  They circled; Fredrickson didn’t want to rush in again.

  Mark felt the blade in his right hand, rolling it around as he clenched his back muscles to feel the scabbard on his back.

  He got closer, within five feet, slowly, carefully.

  She was waiting him out, her blade moving to keep limber.

  Mark threw the blade in his right hand at her shoulder.

  She turned away from the blade. Her eyes not leaving Mark as he used her turn to get in close, pulling the blade from his scabbard out.

  She looked to his right hand pulling out the blade behind his back. Pain blossomed on her face as she looked to her right, there in his hand was his second blade his middle finger through the ring in it turning it into a single-blade knuckle duster.

  His blade went through her chest and up to her shoulder blade.

  She grunted, fire in her eyes as she drove her right arm in behind Mark, pinning him to her as she fell.

  Mark felt a pain in his lower back, as if it had gone painfully and completely numb. His right hand came up and he buried his blade in her gut.

  They hit the ground a hissing and grunting mess.

  “Get off of me and leave the blades in,” she hissed.

  Mark pushed off, trying to not aggravate the blades in her and the one in his lower back.

  Tyler and Alexis were there, Mark could see Fei and Lastrade moving in as well.

  Balhauser was yelling.

  “Good fight,” Mark said.

  Fredrickson turned and smiled to him.

  He couldn’t help it, he started laughing, Fredrickson joined in, wincing in pain from the blade in her gut.

  “Will you two idiots stop laughing?” Tyler said, sounding annoyed more than worried.

  Mark gave a noncommittal grunt.

  It was a cool feeling rather than pain as sealant was put on his new wound.

  Alexis was putting the paste on Fredrickson at the same time.

  “Just another day in the EMF,” Fei said, sighing as if he had seen this kind of thing a million times before.

  They were taken to the medics, who looked excited to be finally doing something. With all of the trained troopers on ice and only the flight crew wandering around the command deck and engineering areas of the ship, they had little to do.

  “On three. One!” Qui the medic pulled the blade out of Mark’s back.

  Mark glowered at him, as he hummed; using sealant inside Mark’s back fixing his kidneys. Another solution was injected into his thigh making Mark relax, two more needles and a spray of sealant on his back he was good to go.

  A final needle cleared his senses and he got off of the table gingerly, his back was itchy, but as he looked in the mirror it was closed with a glue-like substance, it didn’t hurt anything like before, just another cut turning into another scar.

  Mark looked to the medic; it had taken months for him to recover from similar injuries on Earth.

  “Miracle of modern medicine, we can fix nearly anything as long as you get here still breathing and your skull is mostly intact,” Qui said, putting his tools away.

  “Huh,” Mark said, l
ooking at his wound. He didn’t want to check out how true that was, but stabbings were looking a whole lot worse.

  “Now you’re thinking if major injuries aren’t an issue then I can let myself take more damage and worry about them later,” Fredrickson said, she had been on the table next to him. Blood was still on her clothes but her wounds were also just scars now.

  They’d cut open her clothes to get to the wounds, where he’d cut into her chest and shoulder there was now a swell of flesh, the tight smart clothes acting as the world’s best push up bra.

  “If you do that, take extra sealant, IV’s and immune boosters,” Qui growled. “There won’t always be a medic but if you know how to do basic self-heal you can get through most scrapes,” Qui looked to Mark and Fredrickson.

  “Quite right, the medics have more important things that dealing with simple stab wounds and shrapnel when they’re fighting for your brother or sister’s life,” Fredrickson said. “Now stop staring at my boob recruit! You’ve seen enough tits, dongs and vaginas in the showers.”

  Mark averted his gaze, turning a bright red.

  Fredrickson laughed, it was the first time he’d heard her laugh, hell it was the first time he’d seen her smile.

  He grinned, shaking his head.

  “Go draw new smart clothes and get washed up, the day’s still young,” Fredrickson said.

  “Yes Sergeant,” Mark said, hurrying off.

  “That one’s going to be trouble,” he heard Qui say.

  “Yes, but I think he’ll be the kind of trouble that Troopers need,” Fredrickson said.

  The hell does that mean? Mark thought, not knowing if that was a compliment or not.

  ***

  The next day they were fitted for full body armor. Plates clipped to one another, covering their upper body and legs. It was heavy but comforting.

  The final piece of the kit and the most advanced was their space rated helmet.

  The helmet had a HUD on it that displayed a myriad of information. From a person’s heartbeat, their respiratory intake to flight plans, tagged enemy locations, and the ammunition levels of a user’s rifle could be displayed.

  Their hand to hand and melee weapons training moved from being their focus to a secondary skill as they turned to weapons handling.