Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)

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Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) Page 8

by Michael Chatfield


  ***

  The city was like every other colony city.

  In the center were the tallest and oldest towers, other towers spiraled around the central tower, each shorter with each new building project. Polished steel and the crystal matrix, which substituted glass, shone in the light.

  Mark heard the shuttle’s work rather than actually see anything. A simulation could only do so much.

  “Get into the city, spread out!” Mark said, the green dots of his platoon turning and heading for the city, the shuttle was five minutes early.

  The Weapons detail opened up with their mortars, mounted repulsors and screamers.

  Mark was out and running across the cleared ground towards the city, there was just five hundred meters, half of what it would actually be on a colonist planet.

  “Shift out, don’t group up!” Mark yelled, people pushed apart as they ran.

  “Contact!” Alexis yelled from Mark’s right, her section slowing as they fired.

  “Fire and keep moving. Repulsors, give those fuckers something to worry about!” Mark said, people’s markers disappearing on his HUD as the defenders picked them off.

  He gritted his teeth and kept running, scanning the windows for weapons fire.

  “Mark targets!” Tyler said, red halos started appearing, guiding fire onto their positions.

  Chai Tea apparently caught a round in the head, swearing he laid down on the ground.

  Mark couldn’t focus on that, instead he scanned the buildings.

  There’s going to be no one left by the time we get to the city. Mark thought, chewing his gum in anger.

  Mark saw a window shot apart as two more went down.

  “Pulser!” Mark said, haloing the target, he fired his under barrel grenade launcher into the building. Others with sights on the repulsor’s position opened fire.

  The oncoming fire stopped.

  Mark looked at his overlay, fourteen were dead, five wounded. They were getting slapped.

  “Tyler get your section to make entry on the nearest tower,” Mark said, they were just a hundred meters from the city.

  “Rog,” Tyler said as a way point appeared.

  Tyler’s section barely slowed, smashing through the nearest access door, barreling into the lower levels and spreading out.

  Mark was right behind his section. They’d done clearing rooms nonstop. The lower levels of a tower were all the same, lobby faced towards the central tower, three desks lay in a rough U shape. At each corner of the U there were stairs that led up to elevators and a corridor that led to more elevators and the offices and work spaces that were used to maintain the tower.

  They were coming in through the access door to the right of the lobby, through what looked to be a water purification system.

  “Xin, set up a casualty area and get us control of the tower, SWAS keep moving forward, will support,” Mark said.

  Two green lights lit up on the top of his HUD.

  “CS four-nine moving off of position,” the pilot cut into Mark’s thoughts.

  Mark greened up, acknowledging their message and checked the weapons detail, they were down to two shooters.

  “Cease fire and look to your wounded. Be prepared to give fire support if requested,” Mark said.

  He pushed the info off of his HUD and headed in behind the latest group waiting for the lead person’s request for support.

  It wasn’t long before they were running through an office, passing troopers watching the lobby’s entry and the elevator banks.

  They swept into rooms, weapons up and ready as they moved through the office cubicles, simple constructs that had been around since the twentieth century, just with holographic screens that flickered with projected light.

  The building shook.

  “Got incoming for the lobby, weapons detail supporting,” Yilmaz said.

  Mark could hear his people returning fire trough the walls.

  “We need to secure this floor and now, toss mines on the entrances, our people need our help,” Mark said to the platoon.

  The ear splitting shriek of a screamer ended in the ground shaking and a number of markers in the lobby changed colors. Mark grimaced, Alexis’ marker disappeared, they were down to nineteen people still able to fight.

  ***

  Lastrade, Fei, Fredrickson and Balhauser watched the mess’s screens; each showed a different platoon fighting it out.

  The rest of the training staff were also watching the videos.

  Xin had gone down but they were fighting on, supporting the fighters in the lobby and pulling people back to the casualty area where the people who did the best on their first aid course were patching people up as best as possible.

  Ammunition and medical supplies were pulled from the dead and pushed up.

  The first floor was clear and a pitched battle was going on in the lobby.

  Tyler was trying to get Combat Shuttle support as he accessed the tower’s controls, entering codes that would give him control of the tower’s systems.

  CS was unavailable but he still got the control systems.

  “Not bad,” Fei said, high praise as another breath of smoke drifted up to the mess’s fans.

  “Ting better give me my creds,” Balhauser said.

  Fredrickson felt a smile on her lips even as her eyes flicked between the attackers and defenders.

  The defenders had reacted to her platoon’s attack and moved in to counterattack. The problem was they were now in the open with only transport vehicles, cabs and an array of trees and planters for cover and the attackers were now the defenders.

  Fortunately for them, they had set up fire support to cover their movements which was turning the lobby into hell.

  ***

  “Moving to the third floor, get an angle on the fire support,” Tyler said, scanning cameras as he locked down the tower and made sure there was no one on the second or third floor.

  A green light showed Mark understood. He’d moved to the lobby and offices. Coordinating the efforts there.

  Tyler rushed past heading for a stairwell. Red tracers crossed through the air, sending parts of the wall spraying across the lobby and tearing into the haggard desks Mark and the remains of one and three section hid behind.

  Tyler heard another screamer hit the lobby.

  He flinched but didn’t act on his impulse, Mark’s best chance was if he got to the third floor and killed the fourth section who were all using repulsors and had items like mortars and screamer missiles. Most people just called them weapons detachment instead of four section.

  Ecke, rammed the stairwells door open.

  “Clear, covering down,” Ecke said, the rest of the section flowed in and headed up, their weapons searching for targets as they moved quickly, knowing their brothers and sisters were relying on them but not wanting to fuck up and put those around them in danger.

  Someone opened the second floor door and tossed mini mines behind it before they continued to the third floor, Ecke acted as last man, making sure nothing came from below, all that was down there was the cryo pods for the non-combatants.

  They weren’t going to take the chance there wasn’t anyone down there.

  Tyler emerged on the third floor, seeing the red E-12 tracer fire below.

  “Fornuk, find yourself a position to hammer the fuck out of those weapons Det cunts. Everyone else, we’re going to break the windows and bomb them back to the fucking Stone Age. Charlie fire team. I want you to start getting fire into the attackers moving through the streets.” Greens lit up Tyler’s face.

  People moved along the windows, pushing desks and cubicles out of their way to make better positions. Others pushed bedroom or living room furniture, these towers weren’t just offices but living spaces thrown together. They spread out through an office area and half of a housing unit, waiting.

  “On my mark,” Tyler said, shifting his rifle in his shoulder, checking the ammo count on his HUD and the positioning of everyone.


  “Three, two, one, mark!” Tyler aimed at the enemy weapons Det’s haloed positions, firing a burst and kicking the window. It shattered massive sheets falling towards the ground below.

  He didn’t pause, eyeing the other building and putting a string of grenades into the floor the weapons Det owned.

  He ducked into cover as fire started coming back, explosions were going off across the opposite tower’s floors, windows blowing out as fires could be seen inside.

  The weapons Det’s fire cut off as Tyler slapped a new magazine into his grenade launcher.

  “Alpha, Fornuk, switch to targets on the ground,” Tyler said.

  The opposing recruits had their shit together and were now returning fire at Tyler’s section.

  They were trying to withdraw but they were learning how withdrawing under fire was hell.

  “Moving up,” Mark said over the platoon channel.

  Tyler saw he was moving through the lobby; the attacking platoon had been caught out in the open.

  Tyler’s section sent plunging fire into their ranks.

  Tyler willed one and two section on, there were just six of them now working in pairs, pushing out into the street, the enemy troopers being haloed by Tyler’s sensors.

  Anywhere Tyler saw movement he popped a grenade off at it.

  “Watch for friendlies,” Tyler said, waiting as Mark’s people got to the cars.

  “Switch to rounds, watch your shots,” Tyler said, switching to three round burst. Three rounds loaded into the barrel, firing so fast that the recoil only hit after the third round.

  Fucking A. Tyler thought as three rounds cut hit a runner, they looked like they were going to throw their gun in frustration before thinking otherwise and lying down.

  Tyler smiled and looked for more targets, there was less than a section left, but they were fighting for all they were worth.

  Tyler’s section got them pinned down behind a large transport. Tracers hammering into its frame or whizzing off.

  “Grenade!” Mark said, he and the remaining two tossed grenades around the truck, they went off, shaking the truck.

  Mark and one other rounded the truck, their guns fired, red halos evaporating.

  “End Simulation,” the simulations monotone female voice said.

  The street became boxes instead of vehicles and the towers lost their windows, displays and tech, all of it had been holographically projected.

  The ‘dead’ started rising and heading towards their section leaders.

  Tyler slumped down in an office chair, feeling drained.

  “Report to the armories for resupply and redeployment,” Fredrickson’s voice came through their helmets.

  Mark threw down a new way point and they started to move.

  “You heard the sergeant, we ain’t done yet,” Mark said.

  Sighs and complaints came back but they started moving for the elevators. It was going to be a long ten day.

  Chapter 5

  EMFC Reclaimer

  In transit from Sol to Sacremon

  11/3136

  Mark looked around at his platoon, all of them were slumped in some kind of position pouring ration paste down their throats and drinking from their canteens.

  If you don’t need to stand, sit, if you don’t need to sit, lie down, if you don’t need to be awake, take a nap.

  They’d done two battles a day, they’d all gone down and had to change their tactics. They looked forward to defending to grab just a handful of minutes to sleep. This was the first time they had been ordered to eat, the rest of the time they ate through their helmet’s tubes.

  They weren’t humans anymore, but automatons that reacted to words of command. They weren’t humans, they were troopers, creations that looked like humans but could live on nothing and still carry out their mission. They would die in droves, they could fail, but they, or another trooper would win.

  It was a kind of power that not many would understand. That even if you fell, you would live through those that followed and carried out your mission, your revenge.

  Being a trooper wasn’t for everyone.

  Thirty-six had started, seven had tapped the armory door.

  “Get that in you, hurry up about it, we still have one more day to go!” Balhauser said, walking around them.

  Mark swore that this was the last day, he poured the rest of the faintly salty, faintly sweet paste in his mouth, swallowing it down with a drag of water.

  He stowed the paste tube away, garbage was an easy way to detect if humans had been in an area on colony worlds. Everything was recycled on them, no one littered except people from Earth.

  The Platoon’s training staff, Warrant Odal and Second Lieutenant Mitchell stood waiting for them to get into formation. It didn’t take long, moving without thinking into their places.

  Mitchell stepped forward, looking at them all. Rank was dictated by two things, time in and merit, or brown nosing like it was your day job. Mitchell’s hard brown eyes, the scars on his face and neck even the way he walked showed how he had got his rank.

  School and education didn’t get you status here, the EMF taught you all you needed to know, surviving was the only test you needed to take.

  “You all have one more day to go, then you can wear the tattoo of the EMF with pride and be called troopers.” Mitchell looked around, probably letting their sleep fucked brains understand what in the fuck letters and sentences were.

  “You have broken bones, been stabbed, slashed, fought for days on end and applied first aid in the most realistic manner possible save actual combat. We use an old saying in the Troopers, the more blood and sweat you lose in training, the less on the battlefield.”

  Mitchell waved Lastrade forward, he had an E-12 in his hands.

  “I have yet to meet someone that has not been shot while in the field, so today you will be shot. It won’t kill you but you will know what being shot feels like and not panic when it happens for real. Shock kills ninety-five percent, if you know what that pain is, you can turn it into action. Think don’t just react.” Mitchell looked over everyone.

  “Who wants to go first,” Mitchell asked.

  Mark stepped forward, Alexis, Tyler and the others did so as well, a few hesitated. While they might be pale as the ghost of Christmas past they were troopers to the end. They would endure, a bullet would hurt, but they would survive and they would fight.

  Mitchell smiled, it was the first time Mark had seen him do so.

  “Lastrade, looks like Mark is going first,” Mitchell said.

  “Stand in front of the wall,” Lastrade said, pointing at the simulation city wall they had been sitting against.

  “Take off your leg armor, you pick,” Lastrade said.

  Qui who had been with the training staff now moved to Mark’s side as Mark pulled off his left leg’s armor.

  Qui checked the leg and put an X on the side of Mark’s leg.

  “Turn it juust, so,” Qui said, Mark’s unarmored leg turned away from Lastrade.

  “You ready?” Lastrade asked.

  “Do it,” Mark said, putting weight on his right leg releasing the tension in his left. It was hard to make it relax but he knew tensing would only make it worse.

  Lastrade kneeled, his gun steadying.

  Mark was about to ask him if he was going to shoot anytime soon when the rifle cracked and Mark’s left calf disintegrated.

  He screamed, pushing off with his right backwards into the sand.

  Qui was there, saying things slamming needles into Mark’s leg a length of bandage coming out and going around his leg.

  “Tyler, next,” Fredrickson said.

  Even through the swearing and pain Mark heard Lastrade talking.

  “The reason you’ll get a round in your leg is because a round anywhere will most likely cause you to die or need to be replaced by a limb printer. We’re using non-shatter rounds here and less propellant. If we did, your leg would come off and the shattering rounds could kill you.” L
astrade’s gun barked as it sent Tyler into the dust.

  Two medics with a stretcher grabbed Mark and took him off. Mark saw that the stretcher bearers had hidden behind the wall, but were now ready to pull out the newly shot recruits to the medical bays.

  “Just stings a little, you can do it!” Mark said through gritted teeth, hoping his words were enough to push them all through the test.

  How the fuck are we going to be able to fight tomorrow.

  Even with the pain the meds started working and he went to sleep, he knew he’d need it after they fixed his leg.

  They pulled him into the med-bay the change in lights waking him up. They rolled him onto a table, his face down and his leg exposed and went right back to sleep, he felt an itch in his calf but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake.

  “Mark!” Someone yelled, sleep was forgotten memories coming back as Mark sat on the bed, he got off of it, seeing Balhauser waiting.

  “Get to the armories for ammunition and your armor,” Balhauser said.

  “Sergeant,” Mark acknowledged, his left calf was weak, but it functioned, he jogged off, getting a feel for his fixed limb. Making it into the armory.

  Fredrickson and Fei were waiting for him.

  Fredrickson held a gun with a wide mouth on it.

  “Welcome to the EMF trooper,” Fredrickson said.

  Mark looked at the two of them waiting for the joke. Their grinning faces didn’t show a hint of malice.

  “Get out of your gear and take your shirt off for your tattoo,” she said.

  “Yes Sergeant,” Mark said breaking into a smile. He couldn’t believe he’d made it, he’d thought he’d be relieved, and he was, but more than that he was damned proud to be asked to wear that tattoo.

  He stripped out of his gear storing it in his rack. He pulled off his shirt, with all of the Physical Training and custom diet he had filled out his large frame and added hard earned muscle.

  He stood about a half foot taller than Fredrickson, tall and heavy without being a muscle bound creation. She pressed the gun to his arm, pulling the trigger, it stung but it was nothing compared to getting shot in the leg.

  He looked at the tattoo, it showed Earth with twelve stars underneath to symbolize the colonies, his service number laid under that. Two E-12 rifles crossed over it all, the sigil of an EMF trooper.

 

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