Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  Mark put his armor back on, standing and slinging once everything was back in place.

  He hit the release on his helmet, pulling it off of his sweaty head.

  “Everyone out between the two towers for an After Action Review,” the second lieutenant in charge of the attackers said.

  Helmets came off and sweaty faces and heads appeared, people welcomed their friends back to their sections, Mark went through the main lobby, Tyler who had been sitting on a desk grinned.

  “You're supposed to give others something to shoot at, at least,” Mark growled.

  Tyler gave Mark one of the shrugs he himself so famously gave out.

  “You're supposed to stay in cover instead of putting your ass in the middle of the damn street spraying people,” Tyler said, shouldering his brother.

  Mark made a noncommittal noise as they walked outside and went to join their section. Dolche walked over to them, his face tight as if he were deep in thought and he'd eaten a lemon.

  He stopped in front of the Victor brothers looking like he was struggling with getting his thoughts into words.

  “I fucked up, I, I'm sorry,” Dolche said, admitting someone was wrong in any group that dealt with high stress was a hard thing to do. It gave people a chink in your armor, something to poke at and make fun. The EMF were supposed to never fuck up, so when someone did, they usually compounded their issues or walked away from it. Actually saying sorry, well that was rare and something that a person could be expected to be made fun of for.

  Mark and Tyler were very still watching Dolche to see if there was any part of him that would give an indication that he was hiding any other feelings.

  “No worries, you made a pretty decent dent in Garcia's bunk anyway,” Mark said, his grin removing anything sinister about his words.

  “We cool?” Dolche asked, looking to them both.

  “We're cool,” Mark replied, Tyler nodding his agreement. “Though you can still carry that damned thing around.” Mark gestured to his repulsor in Dolche's hands.

  Tyler snorted at his brother's antics.

  “Try getting tossed into Jaol's bunk, that sucks,” Garcia said from behind the brothers, a grin on his face, he wasn't going to come out and say sorry, but it looked like he wanted to gloss over that particular night.

  “Aww man, I always try to keep it nice and fragrant for you,” Jaol said from behind him, letting a fart go.

  “Damn it Jaol!” Garcia said, moving away from the other man.

  “You gonna wait till we're coming back from Sacremon to get your assess over here?” Pullo didn't yell but his voice carried over to the five as they hurried over to join the rest of their section.

  Pullo's eyes looked over them in interest before turning to the circle of sections with the two officers at the head.

  People talked about what went well and what didn't, breaking down the overall to the different forces and then sections.

  Pullo pulled his people to the lobby that they had been fighting in, people finding places to sit or lean as he talked.

  “Simmons, good work on taking over so fast, good individual drills and getting the damned wounded out of the way. Everyone reacted well to quick changes, that shit is going to happen fast. Dolche, Mark that was some good team work at the end, but Mark if you're behind a ripper, you need to keep that gun up and running, hammering people. You can't go charging out into the open, get yourself killed and then leave us without the support of that weapon.” Pullo's look was severe.

  “Yes Sarge,” Mark said from his position leaning against a counter.

  Pullo nodded, his eyes turning to Tyler who was sitting on the counter Mark leaned on.

  “Tyler,” Pullo shook his head. “You took down eight people out of the seventeen this section killed. Our section had the highest number of kills and one of the hardest jobs, especially with that artillery.”

  Xiao and his section didn't look too pleased about that reminder, but you couldn't predict where artillery was going to land.

  “Now let’s get a damned shower and food, then we're going to spend the afternoon in lectures on Sacremon.”

  The groans were subdued but still there.

  “After the mess that got us the attention of Captain Nerva we need to know the planet as well as its own inhabitants. They've been building themselves up for twenty-five, almost twenty-six years.”

  The others accepted that knowledge easily, Mark and Tyler's faces both went pale, sure it was sixteen light years from Earth, but they'd been going at forty percent the speed of light! Twenty-five years, it felt unreal to think that time had gone past.

  You went to sleep and woke up when you should be forty-three years old. Mark felt a shiver go down his spine. He caught some of the glances from the rest of the squad, they understood what he was going through, they'd been through it.

  How long have they been doing this while their friends and family back home are fading away? Stop thinking like that, you at least have Tyler. Sure it's fucked, but it's time to focus on making sure you make it back to Earth alive. No matter how many decades have slipped away.

  “Because of rotations we were the only ship that was in-system and ready to deal with the threat quickest. They're going to have guns, they're going to have artillery, booby traps and a good damned military. What they don't have is the purpose-built military tech we have, our medical abilities to get troopers back in the fight in a few days as long as their brain survives, and the information we have access to. That information could keep us alive down there. You veterans should know this, or else you're not going to remain veterans very long,” Pullo said, looking to the privates and corporals in the formation.

  Privates had dropped onto a hostile planet once, Corporals had done it twice, or spent enough damned time in the shit, or been given the rank on merit. Getting it on merit was rare since most people didn't look at them the same as those that had spent their time ground-side.

  Grim faces with lips pressed together nodded back at Pullo.

  “Good, on to showering and eating, because you smell as bad as Jaol does after he's swooned a cafeteria lady for a burrito!”

  Grim faces cracked into smiles and laughs as Jaol looked around raising his eyebrows comically.

  Even Mark let a smile slip while Tyler laughed.

  Mark looked around the squad, they were solid, not many survived their first drop without being dependable.

  He wanted to be accepted by them. He realized not without a little shock.

  The Section followed Pullo who was talking to Gupta.

  People walked in their cliques or found those that they wanted to talk to, or took solace in their own company as they headed to the elevators that would talk them to the housing deck.

  Robots were cleaning up the spent cases that littered the ground.

  They got out of the tower and he was struck by how much the people in his squad were like anyone else. Before he had joined up they had seemed like some mystical group moving between the stars to smash whoever stood in their way with weapons and tech that no one in the slums would ever see by staying there.

  Up here, well they were people, which made them so much more than the faceless reapers of the stories. They were going to fight, and a number of people were going to die. Some of them might have a death wish like certain people in any population. The majority wanted to live, they had favorite foods, favorite movies, they laughed, they could get angry and they could get hurt.

  Sure they had armor, food, augments and weapons, but under it they were human as much as the people that they were fighting.

  “Why do you fight?” Mark asked Simmons to his right who was stretching.

  She looked to him for a second, checking to see if he was playing some kind of prank or making a joke. Seeing the question still in his eyes, her own expression became thoughtful as she looked over the people in the section.

  “At first it was because I wanted to get out of the slums, who doesn’t want to be an EMF t
rooper, eat whatever we want, see more planets than any other human will in their lifetime. Then I realized that all of that was little compared to the fighting.” She wasn't seeing the scene in front of her anymore, memories clouded her eyes as they walked, Tyler listened intently on the other side of Mark.

  “Yet, even when your down there and the shit has gone sideways on you, you will feel more alive than you've ever felt before, it's a drug you can only feel when you know death has claimed you but you don't know when his round will send you to meet him. If his round misses you and you survive that, then you feel as if nothing is impossible, yet also realize how fragile life is. You remember the people that you fought with together, that bond of standing next to someone and relying on them completely, well you'll never have friends...” Her face screwed up as if the word didn't sound right. “You'll never have better family than the people that you fight next to when you’re in the shit.”

  Her eyes found his.

  Mark lowered his eyes, they flicked to Tyler, he had been in a few situations like that and he understood the trust someone felt for those around them. He somehow doubted that a slum war would compare to anything that Simmons had been in though.

  “But why do you keep going?” Tyler asked, pressing for a complete answer.

  “If I sit back and let people charge in, others always will, then I will feel guilty. I don't want the people that I care about to run into battle without me.” She gave an odd sort of laugh. “Strange isn't it, I'd rather run into battle with my friends, or take their place rather than sit back and know that I'll survive. Maybe that's it, or maybe I crave to once again feel the rush of combat. You're going to have to figure out what you’re fighting for, though I think that you already know, and you just probably haven't admitted it to yourselves. Once you go through your first drop, everything seems to snap into focus, then you'll know for sure.”

  They had reached the elevator, the buoyant of it going down at speed was replaced with a new kind of confusing weight in Mark and Tyler's minds.

  Chapter 8

  EMFC Reclaimer, Growing City and surrounding area

  Sacremon Actual, Sacremon System

  7/3169

  They'd gone through three more training runs before being ordered to get rested, check with the medics and check their gear. Higher didn’t want anything to get fucked up before the drop.

  They'd spent their time watching videos, eating, joking and trying to forget that in less than two days they would be dropping onto Sacremon.

  It was an odd ritual, they didn't do anything crazy, they just acted like they always did, living their lives as if it was any other day.

  Then four hours before the planned drop everyone gathered in the barracks. Some people joked trying to lighten the mood, but the majority just strapped on their armor and sealed their helmets.

  There was still some time to go so Mark and Tyler went to the nearest observation bubble. It was built into the hull, a massive window of blast-proof glass that looked out onto Sacremon and its sole moon.

  Its moon was closer than Earth's, but Mark and Tyler's eyes were drawn to Sacremon. It was massive and covered in green vegetation, there were bands of white and brown looking areas where the underground water of the planet didn't reach and then there were the cities.

  They stood in the middle of circular grey pads, the swirl of towers looked like single blobs but shone with their reflective metals and glass.

  They stood, grey shining blobs out of the green landscape of the planet.

  “The first planet we'll ever look down on,” Tyler said.

  “Yeah,” Mark answered, wishing that they had got some free time during boot camp to see Earth as it faded into the distance.

  This could be the first and last planet you ever get to see from orbit. A little voice in Mark's head said, making his jaw clamp shut.

  He wasn't going to let some damned colonist end his life out here.

  His anger drifted away as they continued to look on the planet in silence. There was something so peaceful about looking at it as they swung around the planet.

  “We're up for weapon draw,” Pullo said, his voice reassuringly calm even as Mark felt like he was going to puke or piss himself from the nerves.

  Mark and Tyler fitted their helmets and made sure the other was sorted out before they left the observation deck for the armory.

  Everyone was wearing armor now, moving through the halls with purpose, those without helmets looked as scared as Mark felt, or had the steel flint looks of those that had done this before and knew the hell they were walking into.

  They walked to the racks, Mark got an E-12 this time, Dolche and Xiao were going to be the repulsor gunners.

  Everyone pulled ammunition and supply packs, filling their pouches with as many rounds and meal replacement bars as they could find. The water bladders on their backs added even more weight.

  They looked like deadly turtles by the time they had their full load out.

  Mark had spent some more of his savings on E-12 mods, getting a silencer and a grip, the rest he'd spent on more augments.

  He hadn't told many people, most looked at him like he was some kind of cyborg. Pablo, Alexis' section-friend did exactly that when Mark and Tyler talked about their augments. Though, Alexis had gotten a few as well.

  Mark and Tyler had become such regular test subjects that they knew the implanter Lucille on a first name basis.

  Their bodies had filled out over the nine months they had trained. Ready healthcare, access to food whenever they wanted it, fully supplied gyms and augments that would make sure their bodies were in peak condition had done it’s work.

  They ate as much as four people in the slums and were looking like Xiao and Dolche who moved their repulsors and kit with a kind of bored recognition. That much weight wasn't all that big of an issue for them.

  Mark was bulkier with twenty kilos more weight that Tyler. Tyler was lean and mean, Mark was large and powerful.

  They moved with the other sections that made up their platoon, there were four sections in total, three rifle companies with ten E-12 gunners and two repulsor gunners, then there was the support section that carried mobile artillery, repulsors, and mounting kits.

  The shuttle bay ran the length of the two-kilometer-long carrier. The awaiting combat shuttles engines were already leaving wavy lines of heat as troopers moved to their assigned transports.

  The combat shuttles were deadly lines shaping into a large cargo hold with downward sloping wings that had missile pods and auto-cannons underneath and rotating engines at each edge. Auto turrets moved under the cockpit, flaps opening and closing as crews did their final checks.

  Each combat shuttle could fit two sections when their cargo hold was set to transport troopers. The usual breakdown of the platoon was to have one and three section and the Warrant officer in one CS, then the Second lieutenant was with two sections and the support section in another combat shuttle.

  Those guns were the most important thing to the platoon so the officer wanted to watch over them.

  Additional officers and support personnel were slotted into the handful of extra seats to spread them out.

  “Move it first platoon,” the Warrant said in an almost bored tone. She took the front seat closest to the combat shuttles cockpit, right next to the cargo-masters chair. The rank structure wasn't anything like the one created before the incorporation of Earth.

  You moved up the ranks to sergeant, then you could make it to Platoon warrant, studying under the second lieutenant and listening to those higher than you to get you ready for the time when you became a second lieutenant. Then you went from second lieutenant to warrant officer one, trained under a lieutenant and then took over those responsibilities, training to become warrant officer three and so it went up to heights that Mark and Tyler never even thought about. Mark sat in his seat, securing his rifle to his legs and making sure the harness was secure around him.

  A short guy with a bo
xer-like build sat across him, his shoulder showed he was a one line like Mark. He wouldn't become a private until his ass touched Sacremon.

  He nodded to Mark, grim looking bastard, must have been in a different recruit platoon. The man looked to his harness and Mark turned to Tyler.

  “How you feeling?” Mark asked Tyler.

  “More nervous than last night.” Tyler said.

  “So I'm guessing that you and Alexis didn't spend much time sleeping?” Mark joked.

  “Well, no,” Tyler said.

  Mark laughed. Tyler and Alexis were clearly an item now, she was in second platoon and would be coming down with the second wave of combat shuttles that would launch after them.

  She was a good-looking girl and smarter than Mark had first thought. Though when they had first met he had been taking her prisoner, thankfully it seemed like a past life to both of them and they'd put it behind them.

  Mark had warned Tyler about what could come from going out, the EMF wasn't going to do anything, they didn't care as long as a person used contraceptives. If either of them died, then it would leave a big hole in their lives.

  That said he approved of Alexis, she was a strong woman and more than willing to reel Tyler in. Tyler doted on her and spent more time with her than he and Mark spent together in recent days.

  “Secure hatches,” the Cargo Master said, the rear ramp closing, it wouldn't get opened until the combat shuttle returned to Reclaimer.

  Mark looked at his feet and the hatch beneath him and all of those on his row.

  The sounds of mechanisms closing ended and the Cargo Master took their seat.

  “Have you looked outside?” Tyler asked.

  “One second,” Mark said, he'd gotten pretty damned good with his advanced implants through sheer usage. It wasn't long until he was connected into the combat shuttle bay's cameras.

  The final sections for the first drop were piling into their combat shuttles, ramps were rising and then there were just deadly combat shuttles, their heat trails turning the air of the bay into smoky wisps. Then the trails disappeared as the air was drained from the bay.