Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (21 page)

           
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 trooper, 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 boxer-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.