Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)

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Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) Page 13

by Michael Chatfield


  An odd noise screeched through the weapons fire.

  “Artillery!” Simmons yelled.

  “Move to tower at our two o’clock, three hundred meters, move and shoot!” Pullo said.

  Staying out in the open with their positions probably already zeroed in by the dickheads in the tower was a losing proposition.

  Mark stood, grabbing his repulsor’s carry handle, his HUD showed where it was aiming. He let out a stream of rounds as he started running for all he was worth. The gun jumped spraying rounds all over the place but all of the remaining section was firing, caring little for ammo conservation.

  Mark glanced to his HUD, seeing Utkin was about twenty meters behind him.

  “I want effective rounds on target, cover and move!” Pullo yelled.

  Mark dove onto the ground, he flipped his gun, putting rounds into the newly marked building which the other sections had reported shots coming from. His gun hammered out more fire.

  A simulated explosion went off, the ground shaking with from the impact. The noise was loud enough to make Mark's helmet dial down the audio intake, but no dirt flew into the air and there was no crater in the ground.

  Mark looked back to where they had run from. He saw his brother stop and turn.

  “Guess I'm hit.” Garcia sounded none too pleased with that.

  “I've got Garcia,” Tyler said, slinging his rifle. “Put your leg out.” Garcia did so hesitantly. Mark grinned as he fired on his new target building.

  The boss had shown Tyler and Mark the fastest way to get people out of the battlefield if they were wounded.

  Grab the wounded person’s leg, drop your shoulder into their gut, using your momentum to get to your knees and run.

  It was the fastest way to get someone on your back and get moving again.

  Mark saw the other two sections were now booking it for the first building. Indirect fire wouldn't get them in the towers, the things were built to last for damned centuries.

  “The other sections will cover us while we get into the first building. Tyler keep moving with Garcia to the ditch,” Pullo called out.

  Mark pushed the casings that were falling out of his repulsor out of the way between bouts of firing.

  “My half section will move through Simmons to the ditch at our eleven o’clock, fifty meters, in bounds. Moving,” Pullo said, exhaling the final word as he stood.

  The same odd screeching of artillery could be heard.

  Whizz-cracks of overhead made the entire section dive for the ground

  Here they were bright flashes and the holographic ground shifted from green to black, simulating impacts. There was no way to simulate the hole it would leave, or the cone of shrapnel it left in its wake.

  If anyone was said to be ‘dead’ or ‘wounded’ they laid down on the ground, just like training.

  Xiao's fire team went down under fire, leaving just Pullo, and Dolche who was mostly carrying Jaol in their half section.

  “Book it to the tower and zig zag!” Pullo yelled.

  Mark was already running; he was catching up with Tyler quickly.

  Utkin and Simmons were close behind.

  Mark had forgotten about the extra ammunition can as it flew off, empty as Earth's oceans.

  Mark ran passed Tyler and kept going till he reached the ditch.

  He flipped his repulsor, sliding into the small ditch as he activated his augments.

  He flipped over, slamming his bipod into the ditch's rise. He pulled the trigger, raking the enemy which were taking pot-shots.

  Simmons went down with a grunt.

  “Utkin, Simmons,” Mark barked.

  “Got it, cover me damnit!”

  “I got you man,” Mark said, his gun raked across the unsuspecting enemy sections.

  It seems like it was a platoon not just a section. Thankfully they can't hear shit over their own incoming fire. Mark's grin was dark as people fell in those towers.

  He tapped a command in his glove, indicating enemy forces everywhere he saw them.

  Tyler crashed through the ditch, looking like he was gonna stop.

  “Keep moving, get him inside. I'll cover the other two,” Mark said, not even looking up as he shifted his body, the spent cases of the repulsor jangling against his body as he fired again.

  Tyler grunted and kept going.

  Utkin was dragging Simmons who was spraying into the windows.

  “Dry!” She ejected her old mag, slapping in a new one, she fired off a few grenade rounds into the building, more people dropped.

  Mark slung his repulsor and ran out to them.

  “I got her, arm up Simmons.” She did so, Utkin covered them. Mark grabbed her arm, using the same rolling technique as Tyler.

  He grunted with the extra weight, grabbing his repulsor with one hand and started running for the tower.

  Utkin popped off grenades at the upper floors with his under-barrel launcher.

  Tyler had reached the building, the sections that had made it there first were pulling Garcia into cover, they had the medics with them.

  Mark saw a flash on the floor above, rounds started coming down around him and Utkin.

  “Hold on,” Mark said. Simmons arms around Mark's left shoulder tightened as he grabbed his repulsor's trigger, his fire wasn't aimed, but it got whoever was still in the upper part of the tower to get their damned head down long enough for Mark, Simmons and Utkin to make it to relative safety.

  Mark's helmet was going at full tilt to supply him with oxygen.

  Someone helped to get Simmons off of his back, the second medic attended to her, she had apparently caught a round to the leg.

  With some painkillers and a splint, she would be able to keep fighting while what they injected knitted her body back together.

  Tyler came over to Mark one wrist extended, they tapped and slammed into one another's shoulder, hard. Mark laughed, relief flowing over his body as he checked his weapon.

  Dolche, Pullo and Jaol slammed into the wall through the doorway, right next to Tyler and Mark.

  They helped get Jaol and Dolche untangled as the two of them caught their breath from their much longer run.

  “How's that gun Mark?” Pullo asked.

  “She looks good, low on ammo though.”

  “Well that's why I'm here,” Utkin said, pulling a can from his back and tossing it to Mark. He caught it with one arm and his body, he let his weapon dangle and tried to attach it to his pack.

  “Here, let me,” Dolche said, taking the belt feeder and slapping it into place.

  “Thanks,” Mark said tentatively, a bit unsure of Dolche still.

  “Don't worry about it.” Dolche still didn't sound like he was too happy himself.

  But hopefully, just hopefully we can put that bullshit night behind us. Mark thought.

  An officer marched into the room, his silver star showing all that he was a second lieutenant. He took a scan of the room, finding Pullo and moving to him.

  “Good work Sergeant, your section did damned well. My people are clearing this building and we should be ready to move onto the other building your people tagged with hostiles soon enough.” The officer's words were punctuated with more incoming rounds.

  “Get away from the doors and windows!” He barked.

  “Grab the casualties and move them further into the building!” Pullo said as the ground started shaking from rounds that found their mark.

  The officer turned his head as if to listen to something.

  “Fuck, look after the people down here Sergeant, I'm needed upstairs.”

  “Yes sir.” He turned to everyone else, “You heard the Lieutenant, get these casualties moved into the tower’s operations center.” Everyone grabbed a patient, shifting them as medics ran around, grabbing gear and moving ahead of them to get setup. They had all been in these identical towers on a number of planets, so much so that they were like a second home.

  The operations center was located on the tower’s first floo
r. It was the control center for the entire tower.

  An area was cleared in the middle of the cubicles, the medics descended on their patients once again.

  “Mark get out in the Lobby and make sure no one gets in through there, Dolche west side, Utkin East, I'll take the South where we just came in. Tyler get your ass out in the Lobby too, I want you to make sure that they remember we're still in here.” Pullo yelled.

  “Yes Sarge.” Tyler's visor hid his expression but from the jaunty way he held his rifle aloft and his voice, he was grinning, it was a simulation after all.

  Mark pulled the ammunition can from his pack. It had drained itself and put him at about the three hundred thousand mark.

  He hefted his gun and moved towards the main lobby.

  The lobby was shaped like a half moon, on either rounded side there were greeting desks, in the center there was the main desk, between them were open areas which led to the lines of elevators that would take people to their living quarters. Twin stairs curved down into the lobby that would take people to the floor above and to the elevators that were designated workspaces.

  Mark was nestled to the right of the main doors, peeking out of the lobby desk. Tyler jogged up the stairs to the second floor using the large three story windows he ducked into an office. He moved a work table into the hallway, taking off his backpack, using it as a rest for his E-12.

  Mark had spent his time watching the enemies building, using the zoom feature on his goggles to get a closer look on any movement he saw.

  “You ready yet?” Mark asked.

  “Just about, you able to see anything?”

  “I think they're mostly on the third floor, probably thinking about bugging out if they need to. They're about four offices in from the left, a light blue looking one.”

  “Mhmm,” Tyler said, concentrated and taking in the information.

  There were a few quiet minutes before the E-12 barked, pausing for just a few moments and firing again, then again. Five rounds rang out before Mark heard Tyler moving.

  “This rifle is going to make me lazy, auto-range finder, shows me the data on the environment and the rounds charge is so high that it would take some damned far ranges before the round starts dropping,” Tyler said as he moved through another office, sighting a new position, laying down his bag and nestling behind his gun.

  “Show off. I've got people on the fourth floor running about,” Mark said.

  “Got them.” Tyler's gun barked twice before he was moving again.

  “Seems they're getting a bit wary of the windows now.”

  “I wonder why,” Tyler said dryly.

  Mark looked at the enemy combatants, they were dragging themselves or crying out for help, except for the second lieutenant that had two rounds through his re-breather, his HUD reported all of this in quick succession.

  Tyler had turned them into walking wounded, meaning they were pretty useless in a fight, but their comrades would need to help them out for the duration of the simulation.

  “I hope I'm hearing good things,” Pullo asked over the communications channel.

  “Tyler's fucking with the enemy, four wounded, one El-Tee dead,” Mark answered.

  “Good job, keep it...” Pullo's sentence died in his throat. “I'm getting markers showing the enemy moving to you Dolche. Mark, get over there and help him out.”

  Mark grabbed his gun and got moving, the same markers Pullo was seeing now populating his HUD.

  He ran for Dolche's position that was highlighted on his HUD's map.

  He crashed through a room, seeing the tail end of a section his augment dumped adrenaline right into his bloodstream, he steadied his repulsor and squeezed the trigger, the repulsor buzzed and rounds fell as Mark drew a line through the stragglers. Three went down, including one of the section's repulsor gunners.

  He withdrew from the room, holding his gun ready instead of just carrying it by the handle.

  Rounds sounded as if they were flying into the room while he ran on.

  “Under fire,” Dolche reported. Mark could now hear Dolche's torrent of fire added into the melee.

  Grenade launchers made Mark lurch in an attempt to stay upright.

  “Fuckers!” Dolche said, replying with his own grenade launcher.

  Mark saw that going into the room Dolche was covering would put him right in the line of fire, he turned, heading for an emergency exit. He barrelled through it, his repulsor came up and fired a stream of rounds through the section. They'd bunched up on the wall covered from Dolche's attacks and from anyone that might shoot down from above.

  Making them a nice packed target for Mark.

  Seven were left alive of the twelve-person section. Four were left after Mark's burst.

  He dove on the ground, grunting with the pain that came with falling on cermite.

  He didn't have time to think of that as he flipped his gun and fired at the section. They were using potted plants, like those Mark had seen around the citadel, for cover.

  He kept firing keeping their heads down.

  “I'll swing in behind them,” Dolche said, almost forgotten.

  “There's one waiting to the left of the door,” Mark said gritting his teeth as a round hit his left arm, thankfully he didn't need it since the bipod was taking the majority of the recoil.

  Another few rounds got him in the leg.

  A grenade put the person waiting outside Dolche's entrance down.

  Only one person turned for the doorway, Dolche put a burst into them, following up with three grenades in their middle.

  “Fuck yes man! Oi, someone gimme fucking cover!” Dolche said over the platoon wide channel, he fired into the enemies building. Tyler seemed to have got into the act with a vengeance, those that moved to the windows were not having a good time.

  “What's wrong with you?” Dolche asked, his phrase pitched in worry.

  “Left arm and leg. Grab my back and pull me, I can still shoot.” Mark pushed himself over with his good arm, sticking the buttstock under his arm and holding the handle with his remaining functional arm.

  He set a command on the gun and gritted his teeth, his implants relayed the set command for his weapon. His repulsor fired at it's highest rate of fire.

  Dolche was there now, grabbing his ammunition pack and heaving. Mark helped him as much as possible with one foot, his gun roving the enemy building as he continued to fire at them.

  “I need a fucking medic! Leg and shoulder injuries, bleeding pretty good too,” Dolche called out, reading the description that told him Mark's simulated injuries.

  “On their way,” the second lieutenant said as the two sections attached to Mark and Tyler's opened fire from their positions, they'd cleared the apartment and were now raining fire down into the enemy building.

  Dolche heaved heavily and Mark's gun went silent as they were now back inside the building.

  Both of them were panting as they rested where they were.

  “Woo! Now that was a fucking rush!” Dolche said through laboured breaths.

  Mark turned off gritting his teeth as the signal for his gun to fire.

  “You just got to save my ass and look all cool. I only got shot,” Mark complained.

  Dolche laughed.

  “You'll get some time with the medics, who are a damned sight better looking than most of the trooper ladies. I'd get thrown back into it,” Dolche said. The sounds of weapons fire above them and across the few hundred meters in the enemy tower seemed to punctuate his point.

  “Thanks for coming out to save my ass,” Dolche said, hitting Mark's armored shoulder as a sign of thanks instead of trying to inflict pain. “I'm sorry for that shit the other night. I was out of line; you'll make a decent trooper yet.”

  Mark didn't know what to say, hoping that whatever lesson Dolche had wanted to teach him the other night was truly forgotten.

  “Thanks.” He was finally able to get out as the medics came.

  “Change out our gear, we're go
ing to need that repulsor out here,” Dolche said.

  They pulled off Mark's ammunition pack and his gun. Dolche put his in Mark's good hand, strapping the ammunition pack into place and checking the gun.

  Mark was dragged off to the casualty area, finding Garcia, Jaol, and a selection of others from different sections.

  “Hey,” one of the wounded said waving a hand, obviously bored with lying down as a casualty.

  “Hey,” Mark replied as medics pulled off armored plates and started applying different things to him that would get him back in the fight in real-life.

  “How's it going out there?” The man asked, the medic giving them a reproving look.

  “Dunno, they tried to rush us with a section and we just took them out. It seemed like their friends popped out of their hiding spots in the other tower, to give them support fire, only to have our guys open up on them. I think this tower is clear at least.” Mark shrugged, the medic now giving him a displeased look.

  “Sorry,” Mark said, laying still.

  “Hmm, should be over soon. I think I hear our guys getting ready to run over to the other building,” the other person said. Mark couldn't see their rank or name, but repulsors did seem to increase their rate of fire and a slew of E-12's fired off, sounding further and further away.

  Mark used his new implants which were now nearly completely online and were going to need a few hours, or maybe days to get used to.

  His HUD turned into a map of the city, friendly markers moving from one tower to the other, enemy markers flashing up as people tagged their positions.

  Then the sections that had dropped in with Pullo's section swarmed up the tower, fifteen had made it into the enemy building, there were only five of the enemy left able to wield a weapon.

  The repulsor's stopped firing as their comrades made it into the tower, shooting now would only put them in danger.

  There was a single shot, Mark grinned in his helmet, his brother taking down the enemy to four.

  There was some fast and fierce fighting, two were taken out on the attacker’s side, but all the defenders were killed.

  “Simulation over, attackers have won.” The emotionless voice of the simulation said over speakers built in the tower.

 

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