Osdal (Harmony War Series Book 3)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Course,” Tyler said, starting to walk towards one of the work sheds, getting out of the way of wounded that were coming in on Combat Shuttles landing on a cleared section of the maintenance pad. Wind from the engines blew dust everywhere.

  At one side there was what was left of the previous operators and techs, cleaning them out to get to the servo motors and other bits they needed to get the powered armor in working order. Then there were other techs taking off the armor, leaving the exoskeleton bare, and techs checked the systems before the new operating system was uploaded and better batteries connected. Armor kits, basically armor that covered the entire exo-skeleton, were welded into place.

  Then the whole thing was booted up, tests run and you had one functional Trooper grade powered armor.

  The suits came out with stronger armor covering the weak points that they’d never learned about from Masoul and an operating system that made controlling them a hell of a lot easier.

  An ammunition pack was also connected to the clips that one would see on normal armor. These were connected to Repulsors with a sling that allowed the user to drop the gun but not lose it. Vibra-Blade

  Troopers were already climbing into them, and someone was coming around with a laser cutter, burning names into people’s breast plates.

  The Triple Twos were armoring up and grouped around a mess table, devouring hot food, slapping on ammunition and getting ready to go out. Tyler dropped off his armor in some bins that had been set up, passing his gun to an armorer that went to secure it in the portable weapon racks they’d brought down to the planet.

  Mark stepped backwards into a set of powered armor roughly his size. He didn’t care for the red stains inside from the last user. The armor closed around him and locked into place easily enough, then his helmet came down. Tt wasn’t the metal hat that the Chosen were using.

  It was based on the Troopers’ regular helmets, padded and with the same HUD, extra armor and no visor, but with armor plates and interwoven cermite layers.

  Inside it looked like Mark had just put on his regular helmet. He moved the actuators, his hands a few extra inches long.

  His checks read good as he stepped out of the charging cradle and walked forward. He checked the Vibra-Blade came free from the left side of his ammunition pack and checked his Repulsor had good movement as he walked over to the rest of the platoon. He opened his helmet up again as the person with the etcher came over.

  “Name?”

  “Diablo,” Mark said, keeping his arms out of the way.

  The person’s eyes flickered, but they got the etchers working, carving the name into the armor.

  Tyler got his S.W.A.S. across his chest.

  Haas signaled Mark to come to the side, away from the others. “Mark, I need to know if you’re good or not. We’re going right into the deep end as usual, and I need you at 100%. They need you at 100%.”

  “I’m good to go, Sir, just give me some Chosen to fight and you’ll see a happy man.”

  Haas looked at Mark, slowly nodding to himself. “Alright, don’t do anything stupid,” he said, tapping Mark’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.” Business done, he became Haas the man, not the Trooper.

  “It’s good to be back,” Mark said, turning, the two of them moving to the platoon.

  “Alright, we’re getting a ride right into the middle of Twenty-Two Division. They need help and we’re it until they can scrape more Chosen out of these things,” Haas said.

  Mark saw that Moretti wasn’t around; he assumed that he was off in some office pouring over information and trying to get it to the leaders on the ground.

  Mark grabbed meal replacement bars, nodding to Jerome, greeting the others that caught his eye silently and joining his section.

  “Our normal ride is banged up to shit, so we’re taking whatever Combat Shuttle is hea...” Haas paused, his eyes going blank. “Our ride’s just in, let’s move it, we’ll brief as we go.”

  Mark stuffed the bar in his face, closing his helmet and following Haas out of the work shed.

  They naturally broke down into sections, Mark chewing furiously. Someone seemed to have sorted out the worst of his broken teeth by simply removing them.

  “Fuck this, if I ever lose all my teeth I’m eating soup for the rest of my life,” he growled, using mostly his gums to try and pull the bar apart. The others laughed, and Mark sensed relief in that laughter.

  “Shit, open channel,” Mark apologized as he kept trying to get the obstinate bar down his friggin’ throat.

  Gonna have heart burn today, he thought, knowing that he was trying to distract his own brain from worse thoughts.

  “The Powered Armored Chosen, or PACs, are newbies, think they’re fucking God, haven’t been tried and tested in anyway.

  “Thing stops their guns, so they wade into oncoming fire, all shooting from the hip and shit. I don’t want to give them time to learn. We need to stop their advance and then get on the offensive. The more we kill of them, the more sets of armor we can convert. We have enough armor kits to change out 300,000 powered armor units. Ortiz doesn’t want them to go to waste and neither do I,” Haas said, stopping as medics ran between, moving stretchers to where wounded Troopers lay, or for the occasional walking wounded that had lost a limb or two.

  Mark understood their faces. Losing a limb wasn’t a big deal, most people had done it more than once. They were just pissed that they had to be pulled back from the front lines to get patched back together.

  “How many Troopers we got in the PA?” Jerome asked, referring to the powered armor.

  “About a thousand, we’re a valuable resource for the time being,” Haas said, walking out as the tail of the medical cases left. He double-timed it to the cleared area, where the Combat Shuttles were setting down. Two haloed shuttles came into view.

  Haas continued on his dash. “One and three with me, two and four with Zukic.”

  They slowed down, each step was taking them a couple of feet in the air. Jerome and Mark were the last to board, taking the seat closes to the edge of the loading ramp. They were off and flying before their asses hit fabric.

  The ramp didn’t even fully close as Osdal passed underneath, the shuttle’s engines howling. The Diggers had calmed down now that the sonic noises had been dialed back. They’d been tuned to make the Diggers think it was mating season.

  Mark looked at the burned out shacks, a black Mark on the red landscape. He could pick out where he’d lived for the past months, where Caroline’s body was.

  He looked away; he couldn’t let those emotions cloud his judgement.

  A few quick breaths and those tears were pushed into submission. Anger filled him, he would destroy Harmony so that Caroline and people like her could live their lives peacefully. Whoever dared to shake that peace using violence as their terms, Mark would be there, rifle in hand and anger in his heart.

  “Two minutes!” the Cargo master said, and Mark felt the weapons systems of the Combat Shuttle open up, the wind coming in from the open ramp making it nearly impossible to hear.

  He checked his gear, taking a breath and clearing his mind. Then he checked his gear again, and looked over the information coming back on his HUD, showing different real time tactical maps of Mining City Twenty-One.

  Chapter 52

  Tower

  Earth, Sol System

  8/3267

  Mark wasn’t the only person checking those tactical screens. Nivad would know he was looking at the varying feeds of millions of people watching the fight going on at Osdal Actual.

  He took a sharp intake of breath as he saw the EMFC Reclaimer hit with hundreds of missiles, turning the proud and historic carrier into nothing but an expanding fireball. He hoped that the resources from the ship could be recovered. It was not cheap to make carriers.

  He kept watching, though the video was being heavily censored, he didn’t want to give the enemy more information than possible. He wanted to keep people inspired. They we
re running the tapes of the miners and the Troopers working together.

  There were clips of the camp workers, emancipated people that had been hard worked and barely fed, hugging Troopers in full armor and carrying loaded weapons. It was a moving sight to see, at least that’s what the Public Relations people were saying. They were spinning this for everything it was worth.

  He watched a video of Mark Victor firing a machine gun from the defensive position he had apparently erected. He looked like hell, but even then he had engaged in fighting PACs with a vibra sword. The man was a natural born killer. His feeds had the largest viewing out of any other Trooper. There were various forums where people were talking about him, but his information hadn’t been given out. They wanted to hold that off until later, maybe it would make a fitting reveal if he died after all of this.

  Nivad made a note and continued to scan through the various maps. While it looked like the battle was only going for the Troopers, the reality wasn’t as pretty.

  On Osdal Actual, 50,000 Troopers had already died, not including the ones on the carrier Reclaimer. The numbers from the various stations were messy, but were believed to be around 5,000.

  Osdal Three was going better than expected, the damp climate was hell on the PAs systems. Most of the units worked, or barely so. The Troopers were rushing through the enemy lines, smashing key locations then moving to another location and doing it again. The Chosen could only react to the Troopers, making them unable to counter attack like in the mining cities on Osdal Actual.

  Troopers in PA were getting tossed into the front; they needed to turn the Chosen’s powered armor away. There was an estimated 3,000,000 Chosen in Osdal, and about 700,000 of them had powered armor. The Troopers only had 600,000 Troopers left and only a thousand of them were wearing powered armor.

  Turning the Chosen’s armor against them was a stroke of genius; it also saved Nivad having to produce it.

  He opened up a running report, and even with their current losses Nivad was still making a good profit off Osdal.

  He checked the progress of the Colony ship. It was still decades away, but now Nivad was largely certain that the asteroid miners and the camp workers could get the colony moving in the right direction.

  He was still wondering how the transition would go once the high powered CEOs reached the system. Nivad knew that certain accommodations would have to be made, probably putting a number of the mining leadership in CEO positions as well as forgiving most debt.

  If we work it right, then we might be able to start some competing businesses in the system. Competition was good for business; it meant more money going into Earth and Her Colonies government coffers. It also meant that Nivad had more opportunities to broker power between the groups. If the Osdal partnership weren’t doing the best, then Nivad could threaten them with another company already set up in system taking over contracts.

  He glanced back at the tactical maps and feeds. He didn’t really care how many Troopers died, as long as they put that planet under EHC and his, control.

  Chapter 53

  EMFC Fearless

  Osdal Actual, Osdal System

  8/3267

  Yu made sure that his smart clothes were good. He felt like he needed a shower and a case of beer, but now wasn’t the time for that. He made sure that the freighter was powered down and its maintenance hatches were open. Young got out of her seat and slid down the railing that ran from the cockpit to the cargo bay.

  Yu followed her out; Bobbie had the ramp and airlock open, and he was already out of the freighter and moving towards their new ride.

  The hangar was a mass of movement. Combat Shuttles landed and took off, wounded were pulled off, lines were run to the shuttle’s magazines and supplies were shoved in.

  A few Troopers that had already been put back together by the carrier’s medics were coming out of the massive air locks with new armor and smart clothes.

  Yu checked his E-12 as he followed Bobbie to their new Combat Shuttle Three Seven Eight, their original shuttle had been on Reclaimer, being used as parts. When the carrier had been blown to bits, their shuttle had gone with it.

  Yu glanced back at the freighter, it was still a large beastie. Holes riddled her sides and her weapons lay out, deadly and waiting for action.

  Burn marks showed where her missile ports lay. Bandit one had been one hell of a lady, but Yu needed something able to hit harder and fly faster to keep his Troopers alive.

  He ran through the cargo bay, it was loaded with medical equipment and ammunition. Bobbie was checking the tie-ins to the decking, and Young was up in the cockpit, turning the bird on.

  He could see consoles coming to life as he hauled himself up the cockpit ladder. He stowed his rifle and got into his seat, pulling a harness over him. Young was running start-up tests already. Yu moved different controls and looked out of the windows and used his sensors to make sure that all of the right stuff was moving according to his inputs. Everything looked good.

  “Cargo is locked in and good to go, sealing up,” Bobbie reported.

  “Weapons are good to go,” Young added.

  “Power is looking good and controls are responsive,” Yu said, opening a channel to Fearless’ flight control.

  “Flight Control this is,” Yu paused, looking for the Combat Shuttle’s number for a moment. “Combat Shuttle Three Seven Eight, requesting clearance,” Yu finished.

  “Sending flight plan now,” Flight Control said, in clipped tones, cutting the channel. They had a lot to deal with.

  “Flight plan looks good, going to be a bit close in places,” Young said looking the plan over as Yu applied power to the shuttle’s engines and thrusters, threading his new ride through the wire-frame check points that showed up in his HUD.

  It felt weird flying the Combat Shuttle, he’d got used to the freighter.

  They came out, a Combat Shuttle flying past them just a few feet from their side. Yu wanted to jerk away but then he’d be in another shuttle’s way. Space might be big, but the room on a carrier’s flight deck was at a premium at any given time, and in combat operations it was a carefully ballet, with multi-ton Combat Shuttles loaded with enough ammunition to make anyone have a really bad day.

  Yu continued on his path, two more close encounters and their wire-frame checkpoints got larger and Yu applied the power, throttling for Osdal below.

  The cities looked like they had when he’d first seen the planet, just another colony town of towers turned into a swirl.

  Now he knew that instead of people walking around those towers, there were Chosen and Troopers fighting it out. Anyone that was smart was getting the hell out of their way. He didn’t have much mercy for the people that were in those cities anyway. They’d allowed their friends or, at the very least, people they knew, get thrown into camps that had worked them to death.

  Yu put that to the back of his mind as he hit atmosphere. He needed to get used to the shuttle’s controls again, and fast.

  He looked at his heading, he was going to Mining City Nine. He knew it was only a matter of time until he was sent to Twenty-One. The city was an entire war zone, and unlike the other cities, there were no civilians running around.

  Though I don’t think anyone is caring that much about civilians in the other cities either.

  Chapter 54

  Mining City Twenty-One

  Osdal Actual, Osdal System

  8/3267

  Alexis saw the PA Troopers storm past her position, but she couldn’t give them more than a glance, as she barked out new orders to a Trooper hauling in their buddy. They took the person to the triage area.

  A hole had been blown into the landing pad above the floor, Troopers hauled wounded up through the hole instead of tackling the stairs.

  She checked her implants, there was a new alert of an incoming shuttle, so she made sure that a new load of wounded were ready to go with the shuttle. They were dropping off armorers, techs and their tools.

  They hau
led off their own gear and Alexis ran through reports, checking who needed to go to a carrier and who could be sent to the maintenance pad, who could be fixed in her Casualty collection area.

  While the other officer ranks dealt with the forward battle, the Sergeant Majors and Warrants dealt with the battle at the rear, getting the supplies up to those on the front and taking those that could no longer fight up there. It was fast as all hell and kept her on her feet.

  Another two shuttles came in, with more powered armor. She set up another transfer, these ones were going to the maintenance pad.

  The platoon ran past her room, at least they were supposed to be a platoon, but they looked to be a quarter of their full standing strength. She looked at her reports, and her breath caught in her throat as she focused on the powered Armor. They were gone faster than she could call up their identification chips.

  Give them hell, Triple Twos, she thought, pushing her emotions aside. She couldn't think on the people in that platoon, the wounded and ever-piling supplies needed her attention.

  ***

  “Triple Twos on station and moving into position,” Haas said through Ortiz’s helmet.

  “Good to hear you’re hanging around Haas, move up to the forward lines and be ready to press forward. Link up with Lieutenant Szerba, I’m working to get you some air support,” Ortiz said, checking his request with Flight Control to higher.

  A green light flashed over Haas’ name as he cut the channel.

  Ortiz peered around the corner of his defenses. The level he was on was hell, tracers tore through the air, Troopers were being thrown back, casings were all over the ground. Explosions shook the floor, ripping walls apart and throwing dust everywhere.

  They were in an open office space getting pushed back into the cafeteria on the floor. Techs were already working, spraying everything they could with their spray-ite.

  Screamers ripped through the air and smashed into the advancing powered armor. They were one of the few weapons that actually worked. The Troopers stayed low as they moved, so as to not get in the way of the AMR users that were hitting the powered armor.