“I don’t think that the Chosen are going to agree with your schedule.”
“Didn’t even get to finish my eggs,” Dashtund sounded pretty put out.
“People have been killed for less,” Tyler sympathized.
“Hmm, yeah, fuck these guys, was a full fucking omelette,” Dashtund said, his voice turning darker, and Tyler knew he’d found the Trooper behind Dashtund’s jokes and bluster.
“Fire!” The platoon waiting for them fired their screamers, and the launcher’s missiles ripped through the air, tearing the shuttles apart.
Across Earth, landing zones had Troopers waiting in ambush, there were too many of the Shuttles to hit them all, but it would thin their numbers.
He checked his overview, seeing Combat Shuttles racing through Earth’s dust, using it as cover as they cut down more Shuttles.
Tyler was perched on a tall building, and he had a good line of sight over his sector. He was behind his AMR, watching as screamers ripped Shuttles apart and sent them crashing to the ground.
Others were pounded flat by artillery fire.
A landing zone was marked out, but already the Troopers, except for the Regiment that was waiting in their Powered Armor, were engaged.
Repulsors on nearby buildings opened up. Their tracers cut lines into the Shuttles. One’s engines were caught, sputtering as the craft spun before crashing into the ground in a spray of dust and Slum houses.
A few Shuttles powered their drives and tried to run away. Tyler watched the chaos, his face grim. Here and there, Chosen were getting free of their craft. Eventually they would make landfall, then the real battle would begin.
Tyler saw a Shuttle coming in unmolested as Chosen jumped from its cargo hold.
He dialed in his AMR, firing at the PACs, not giving them time to recover from their falls as round after round smashed into their armor.
Tyler didn’t see any more targets and turned back to scanning for threats. There were Chosen all over the place. Troopers were spread across Earth, trying to cover the areas around the cities. Combat Shuttles covered the other areas in between.
Chosen’ Shuttles were making it down into the unprotected areas, landing in the hundreds of thousands.
“We’re going with plan Charlie,” Ortiz said in every officer’s helmet.
It meant that he was going to push Troopers out of Mega City and the other cities, to assist the Troopers in hitting the Chosen moving forward.
“Jerome, release the scout sections,” Tyler said.
“On their way out,” Jerome said.
The scout sections were wearing normal Trooper layout, but they moved in sections or smaller groups. They were to report on the enemy and do anything possible to slow the advance of the Chosen, and harass them at every turn. They knew the Slums as well as the residents, and would turn that knowledge against them.
Everyone had been trained to be in scout sections, but these were the best of them. They would make the Chosen think that they were fighting an army with just twelve people.
“Looks like the information network is working,” Jerome sounded impressed. He hadn’t believed that the various gangs would work with them when the Chosen came calling.
“We fought them in the Slums; these bastards think they can take it over. The gangs hate it when people try to tell them to do things. We have an alliance and we own a gang. The Chosen don’t have a dog in this fight and the gangs know that we’ll pay them for every Chosen they give us,” Tyler assured him, watching as information was taken in and the maps showed Chosen all over the place.
“I’ll keep to my spaceships and docks, you deal with the gangs,” Jerome growled.
Tyler smiled before seeing an outpost was getting attacked. “Need support fire on outpost One-Echo.”
“Calling it in,” Jerome said.
“Choi, situation?” Tyler asked, connecting to the second lieutenant in control of the outpost.
“We’ve got Chosen coming in from the unprotected areas. I’m getting my people into their armor. Support fire is coming in to give us time to change over,” Choi reported.
“Good work.” Tyler cut the channel, scanning for enemies with his AMR and watching his maps as Chosen and Troopers engaged one another.
“Another day’s work.” He blew air out of his nose and found new targets. He felt his AMR ram his shoulder as he took down three Chosen, others scattering before he could do anything.
A tone told him that Alexis was calling, and he accepted it as he caught a PAC trying to run for cover.
“I love you, babe, stay safe,” Alexis said in Tyler’s ear.
“I love you too, babe, keep that cute butt safe,” Tyler rocked as he picked off another PAC at distance.
Alexis laughed, cutting the channel. Tyler smiled sadly; he’d been doing this job long enough to not make promises about staying alive. Everyone died, and most of the time there was nothing you could do about the where, how, and why.
Chapter 38
Citadel
Earth, Sol System
12/3348
Ortiz’s plan was pretty simple; he’d learned from Nivad that simple plans were the best.
The outposts would offer a fight to the Chosen, and once they were attacked by overwhelming forces they would retreat via vehicles to the next larger outpost. Forward Operating Bases had artillery that would bring support fire down onto targets marked by the outposts or scout patrols.
The bases and outposts would offer strongholds that the Chosen would have to overcome as the scouts would harass their lines.
Their job was to do everything in their power to make the Chosen’s lives hell.
It was the same job as they’d had on Fernix, except this time they were already in the enemy’s rear and they knew the ground much better than the enemy.
Everyone was using their normal gear and only using their Powered Armor in emergencies or when they were in direct contact with PACs.
The rust dust got into everything, messing up the Powered Armor’s motors and moving parts. It took time, but with all of the incoming shuttles Earth was experiencing one massive rust storm. Sight lines were down to just a few hundred feet.
With the gangs and crews providing the Troopers with enemy positions, and the sensor-sticks sown across Earth, they could see the enemy wandering around blindly.
Ortiz watched a scout section ambush a platoon of Chosen. The Chosen were shooting everywhere. Artillery landed among them, and a bloom of heat showed, and then the scout section was running away for their next target.
It had been two days since the Harmony fleet had arrived at Earth, they had dropped all of their Chosen and were still dropping supplies.
“We’ve had five more security contractors looking to arm themselves,” Williamson said.
“Have they been dealt with?” Ortiz asked, rubbing the stubble which was growing on his face.
“Went with more permanent measures, the other security contractors haven’t done a single thing since.” Williamson and Ortiz shared a look.
“Good, we don’t need them playing hooky behind our back.” Ortiz looked at the boards, the Chosen were moving to attack the outposts in force.
“How many of the bastards are on the planet?” Ortiz asked.
“One point five million,” McPherson said.
To our eight hundred thousand. Though we hold the defensive lines, control the information and know the land.
“Well, let’s see what we can do about thinning out that herd,” Ortiz said. “I want all scout sections deployed. It won’t be long until the Chosen start taking measures to counter them, so we might as well hit them when they’re unprepared. Get the Fighters ready for another flight. I want them to thin out those Harmony Shuttles more. Give the gangs information on the smallest groups of Chosen that are in their regions. We’re moving to phase two.”
Messages were sent as bases, outposts, and gangs acknowledged the information.
“Well, it looks like they’re
pretty enthusiastic to get some Chosen,” Williamson looked at the main screen where gangs and crews were flooding out of their strongholds, headed for the Chosen.
“You would be too if the bastards were bombing your home without a care. The people in the Slums have been pissed on by the cities all of their lives. Now they get to tear some of those bastards apart. The kindling was already there; we’re just throwing the match in.” Ortiz watched scout sections armed with their AMRs and light armor leave their bases or emerge from their tunnels, heading for Chosen groups.
Ortiz stretched and rolled his shoulders. He looked around the room; they might have been aides but like him they were first and foremost Troopers. The old general’s staff would have been petrified to even look at armor.
They wore their ceremonial trash and decided the fate of thousands of Troopers, yet they weren’t really Troopers. Everyone in the command center was wearing their armor and weapons, and had their helmets on their hips. All of them had seen combat.
It means that they’ll push themselves harder than any old CO fop. Ortiz looked over the screens again and turned for the Powered Armor resting along the walls.
“Is it time, sir?” McPherson asked.
“Armor up, we’ll be moving to the front lines shortly. I’m not going to lead from the rear, am I?” Ortiz said.
Ortiz’s staff didn’t need to be told twice, they split off and got into their Powered Armor.
Ortiz needed to be in the command center to coordinate attacks in the beginning. But now that the Chosen forces were on the ground, the bases and outposts would be working together. There was no need for Ortiz to be up in his tower for that.
Chapter 39
Westerly Three Sector
Earth, Sol System
12/3348
“Sir, are you sure about this?” Alexis asked.
“Really, you’re sir-ing me? This doesn’t even rate on the scale of dumb ideas I’ve had,” Mark was offended.
“Damn Victors,” she sighed.
“Aren’t you one of them?” Dominguez asked.
“Exactly, can’t really say no to my big brother can I?” Alexis grinned.
“That’s my girl,” Mark smiled, tapping Alexis’s armored shoulder with his fist. “You’re in complete control, me and Dominguez are just here as watchers. We need to know how the Chosen react. There wasn’t even much fighting with the Housapel Chosen, so we have no idea if they’re Fernix good or Masoul shit.”
“Alright, if you have any suggestions, fire a message to me. Or if there’s something right messed up, react and get me into the loop as soon as possible. I’ll put you off to the left flank, we’ll be moving in five.” Alexis’ playful tone was gone.
“See you afterwards,” Mark said. Dominguez tailed him as they moved through alleyways, and people peeked out at them from their meager houses. Troopers were hidden all over the place.
“They’re looking good,” Dominguez commented.
“Yeah, the Chosen aren’t going to know what hit them. This dust is fucked.” Mark stopped, looking around a corner. His HUD was connected to the sensor-sticks that showed Chosen three hundred meters away, but nothing in between.
The residents had left, no one wanted to be in the middle of two armies.
“Think of how the Chosen are dealing with it. Their armor’s going to get messed up with all of this dust,” Dominguez said.
“Yeah, so is ours though.” Mark ran for the other alleyway, and Dominguez ran with him. A Trooper moved out of their way so they could run through a main street.
“We can clean ours though, they’re not going to have many chances to do that,” Dominguez said.
“When did you turn into a bright ray of sunshine?” Mark asked.
“Oh, I’m thinking it’s all fucked, I’m just doing my job of saying the opposite of everything you say,” Dominguez sounded like she was smiling.
“Good work DSM,” Mark tried to stop himself but a laugh escaped his lips.
“Why thank you, sir.” They arrived at the far right flank of what looked like a big L. The base of the L was to move up, dig in and fire on the Chosen’s position.
The side of the L was to sweep in from the left, flanking and clearing out the enemy position as the base of the L cut their fire so they didn’t hit the flankers.
“Move!” Alexis yelled to her Regiment. The Troopers that had been hiding behind walls and in alleys shook off the dust that had settled on them and rushed forward.
A hundred meters from the target they got behind whatever cover they could find and opened fire. Mark slammed into a house, and the rust-brick wall came apart as he landed inside.
Dominguez followed, stepping over him.
Other Troopers flowed in as Mark got to his feet.
Smooth, Mark, smooth.
They took up positions at the windows and started firing at the block that the Chosen were using as a base.
Tracers ripped into walls and the thin shelters. Screamers tore holes in walls.
The Chosen fired back, a few people here and there at first, but more and more joined in.
They had caught them off guard but in minutes the Chosen were firing back.
They’re well trained and drilled, Mark thought, knowing that it would be a problem. Fighting a mob like the Chosen on Masoul had been like grinding down the enemy. The Chosen on Fernix knew tactics and had been hell to fight. They knew how to advance properly, what cover meant, and they were disciplined.
These guys look like they take after the Fernix bastards more than the Masoul.
The flankers moved up in a line.
Mark checked his Repulsor, punching a hole in the rust-brick wall. He lay on his stomach and fired back at the Chosen.
“Get low and make murder holes; techs, I want spray-ite,” a lieutenant yelled before Mark was able to make the suggestion.
“Shit, Heavies,” Dominguez said, using the slang for Harmony Heavy Machine Guns.
Someone over there was proving that they had half a brain. The heavy guns were as powerful as an AMR, but automatic.
Walls were ripped apart; Troopers were cut down. No one let up shooting. They would tend to the wounded later. Not returning fire would mean death.
The flanking Troopers advanced. The Chosen must have had people watching the flanks, because they fired back at them. The Troopers exchanged fire. Screamers opened walls and found Heavies.
Ammunition cooked off the tracers illuminating the houses, and one apartment building came down from the punishment.
“Fuck these guys,” Dominguez said. Chosen were picking themselves up out of the crumbled apartment building, firing back at the Troopers.
“Flankers, move by sections!” Alexis yelled. They were losing momentum to shock the Chosen.
Mark fired at the Chosen, keeping their heads down to give the flankers the cover they needed as they moved forward, section covering section, one moving and one firing at all times.
“Fire support, watch for friendlies,” Alexis said as Troopers stopped firing for fear of hitting the flankers.
Mark stopped shooting as the Troopers smashed through the Chosen-controlled block, clearing houses with their Repulsors. In ten minutes it was all over.
“Get the casualties pooled together. Flankers, check the buildings in case we missed anything, destroy any weapons and ammunition. The Slums will take care of the rest,” Alexis said.
“What you thinking?” Dominguez asked as Mark stood up. The house that they were in barely had any standing walls left.
“That these bastards are better than Fernix’s Chosen.”
“Same,” Dominguez said. The fact that she wasn’t trying to argue the point made Mark fear what was to come.
“We’ve got movement through our sector,” Moretti said in Mark’s ear.
“How bad?” Mark asked.
“Regiment strength, PACs with some of their Shuttles,” Moretti said.
“Send scout sections, knock out that air support. I’l
l task Alexis to ambush them. Start rotating people to get their armor cleaned up. I’m already getting warnings on my armor,” Mark checked the mild yellows showing from his Powered Armor as he threw himself to his feet.
“Scout sections are pushed out. We have the medical Combat Shuttles coming in. They can hit the Harmony ships,” Dominguez said.
“Do it.” Mark’s voice was terse, knowing that he would be adding minutes to the Shuttles, and that would mean some of the more seriously injured Troopers dying.
A landing area was being cleared as Troopers that had been left as the attack went on were patched together. In all, they’d lost twenty Troopers, and another seven were badly injured.
Chapter 40
Combat Shuttle Four-Two-Seven
Earth, Sol System
12/3348
“We have new targets before the medical run,” Young told Yu, sending him a new flight plan and targets.
“Let’s get this done quickly, those people need us,” Yu said, banking onto his target flight plan.
“Three minutes to range, Bobbie, and there are some PACs on the ground,” Yu said.
“Firing,” Bobbie’s two auto-turrets sent twin lines of tracers, which cut into Chosen advancing through Westerly Sector to Central Sector and Mega City.
“Targets! Firing!” Young called as missiles left their wing-mounted racks.
“They’re firing back!” Young said as the Combat Shuttle beeped at Yu to tell him that the enemy shuttle’s missiles had a lock. He poured in power, going to the speed of sound, ripping Slum homes apart as he climbed and fired off emergency measures. The Chosen’s tracers followed him but Bobbie was firing at the missiles following them instead of at the PACs.
“Got them!” Bobbie said.
Yu checked his cameras. Four of Young’s missiles had been destroyed, twelve had made it to their targets.
The Combat Shuttles exploded, raining wreckage across the Slums, or dropping onto their own Chosen forces.
“Westerly command center, this is Combat Shuttle Four-Two-Seven. Harmony Shuttles destroyed. Moving to medical evacuation.” Yu banked the Combat Shuttle, using his flaps and engines to fight atmosphere, slow their speed, and send them at Alexis’ Regiment.
Earth (Harmony War Book 5) Page 11
