Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Weird to think that for once we might have better weapons, with our low-tech options, than the Chosen,” Jolie said.

  “They’re going to have to get used to nasty surprises,” Jerome said, finishing his nails and holding his right hand up, the blade slipping down to the holster around his triceps.

  Mark let out a humorless laugh as Tyler smiled.

  Not long now, Tyler thought, feeling the need to be in the middle of the fighting instead of sitting back on the sidelines.

  It was hard not knowing how Alexis was doing. His smile fell away as he started to wonder if she was even alive. It tore at his soul, but he pushed that pain and those doubts away.

  Soon his brothers and sisters would need him, and this time he couldn’t run off and leave them to fend for themselves.

  Alexis wouldn’t want that, no matter his reasoning, and he would hate himself for it.

  ***

  Alexis was following behind another platoon. They were spread out through the universal housing quarters, clearing rooms and pushing up into the center of the level.

  The lead trooper opened a door and the second walked through. It was fluid and precise. The second trooper even got off a few rounds before the Chosen machine gun opened up. The lead trooper, the one through the door, and the one right behind them were all hammered with rounds; they didn’t even scream out as they dropped to the floor.

  Alexis didn’t need to check her HUD to know that they were dead.

  As they dropped, the troopers jumped into motion; those stacked up and ready to breach the door jumped for the nearest cover.

  Someone threw a sensor through the doorway and red markers opened up. They were at the bottom of a T-intersection, the single path leading right to two dug-in machine guns.

  “Pull back!” the commanding officer said. Troopers moved out of the housing unit as holes were ripped through the walls, furniture, and any troopers unlucky enough to be in the weapons’ path.

  Pedro was hit in the leg, and he went scrambling. The rolling pick-up Mark and Tyler used had passed on like wildfire. A trooper behind him grabbed the good leg, rolled, and pushed on for the doorway.

  With a glance, Alexis saw that Pedro’s leg was gone. The Chosen machine guns fired rounds as powerful as the anti-material rifles’.

  Others were cut down. They needed to throw the Chosen off balance or else they might overrun the troopers’ lines.

  “Follow me!” Alexis said, heading down the corridor they’d emerged into.

  Her section followed as she kicked open a door to a room that had been cleared. She moved in, her weapon up and ready, not willing to trust that the room was still clear.

  There were no signs of life.

  She fired her grenade launcher. The main wall in the living room disappeared. Dust and crap filled the air.

  Alexis moved for the new exit, and her section followed, coming out at the top right of a T-intersection.

  She checked her HUD, seeing that there were machine guns along every corridor leading to the center of the level.

  “Stack up,” she said, checking her map and heading away from the gun, coming to a stop outside a door opposite the housing unit they’d just blown through.

  She opened the doorway and tossed a sensor stick as hard as possible.

  Nothing happened. No machine guns opened up, and no new contacts showed up on her HUD.

  “Follow me,” she said, heading into the doorway. Beyond it, a long corridor stretched down the length of the twelve housing units. The companies were nothing if not economical. All of their towers, with their offices, cafeterias, lifts, and housing units, were laid out the same.

  The corridor branched off every fifty meters or so, leads and pipes connecting into the housing units. Alexis was in the maintenance corridor between housing units.

  Her section moved forward, the platoon they’d been following now split up behind her and moving for the same maintenance corridor on the housing unit on the left side of the T-intersection.

  They didn’t talk, focused entirely on their goal as they reached the end of the corridor and the door that led out of the maintenance area.

  “Ready?” she asked. Green lights made rows on the top of her HUD.

  She took a breath, then kicked the door open and went right. Chosen looked at the door, their interest turned to shock as Alexis sent bursts into the group of three.

  She felt someone slam on her armor to tell her they were ready and good to go.

  “Advancing right!” Alexis said. She heard weapons fire behind her, but trusted those troopers to deal with that threat as she advanced down the corridor.

  A bank of housing units lay to her left, creating a wall; the housing units she’d run through to her right.

  She saw movement thirty meters ahead, where the corridor ran between the housing units to her right.

  A Chosen moved out; Alexis and a trooper behind her opened up. Alexis fired rounds, while her second threw grenades.

  They never stopped moving, absorbing the Chosen’s shots and advancing.

  Wild firing came from the corridor. They were now behind the machine gun positions. The guns that had dealt out terrible damage couldn’t be rotated to fire on the troopers to their rear and sides.

  “Keep the grenades up, hopefully we’ll catch something,” Alexis said.

  Fires burned to give the Chosen light, and worked to mess with the helmets’ feeds.

  The grenades hit something useful; Alexis halted as the corridor shook with more than just the grenades’ impact.

  The corner of the housing unit closest to the corridor was now gone, and the housing unit opposite was a shrapnel-peppered mess.

  She moved up. There were few survivors; it looked like the grenade had landed on an ammunition crate. The rest was history.

  Alexis changed to semi-auto, tombstone tapping the Chosen she could see.

  New contacts filled her HUD as Chosen rushed in from lower levels and from the center of their current level.

  They were a few hundred meters off to the left, but Alexis’ HUD did nothing but add more numbers.

  “Pull back!” she said, raising her rifle and emptying her grenade clip into their front.

  Her section listened and pulled back.

  “Set!” Wiz said.

  She ran, sticking to the wall to keep out of Wiz’s line of fire. He fired past her. Her grenades seemed to incite the Chosen; they were full-out charging as Wiz fired his repulsor into their midst.

  Alexis was back in the corridor, passing another trooper.

  They covered Wiz as the man ran back; he stumbled, screaming in pain.

  Alexis dragged him in with the other trooper’s help.

  “Grab his gun, I’ve got him,” Alexis said to the other trooper.

  “Yeah,” the trooper said, scared but pulling the ammunition pack and repulsor from Wiz.

  They turned back to the corner and fired. A sea of red contacts showed on Alexis HUD. The troopers had hit hard and fast throwing the Chosen off balance, giving the troopers the time they needed to pull themselves together.

  Alexis hauled the grunting Wiz onto her back and ran.

  The covering trooper wasn’t far behind, with her own section—and the rest of the platoon she’d been following—running down the maintenance corridor.

  Alexis ran, one hand holding Wiz to her, the other on her rifle.

  Wiz did his best to hold on.

  Rounds pinged off of the walls and their armor. The trooper behind dropped to a knee and fired back, his onslaught buying them time.

  They fired for a few more seconds before rushing after Alexis, who hadn’t stopped.

  She got out of the maintenance corridor.

  Rounds fired behind her. A yellow dot turned black as the trooper that had covered her and Wiz came sliding out of the maintenance area.

  The troopers holding this position fired down the corridor. Others grabbed the trooper’s body and Wiz’s ammunition pack and repulsor
.

  Alexis cleared the housing unit she’d put a hole in and got Wiz to the medics.

  The trooper whose name she hadn’t even known, and who had died giving her cover, was pulled into the hall, his weapons and ammunition stripped.

  Alexis was going to make sure his sacrifice hadn’t been in vain.

  She turned away looking at her HUD, something seemed to have kicked the Chosen into high gear and they were rushing up through Landing City’s towers.

  “Pull back if you need to and take defensive positions,” Nerva said over the channel reserved for section leaders and the higher-ups. “We need to defeat the Chosen here.”

  Chapter 44

  Tower

  Earth, Sol System

  6/3242

  Nivad watched the feeds on his walls carefully.

  His people were making sure to edit out everything about the machine guns and other weapons that the Chosen were using. He didn’t want the people in Osdal using the feed to see what was going on. With the EMP, there weren’t any signals coming from Landing City. All of the receivers and communications equipment had been destroyed by the EMP blast.

  While the troopers were learning to deal with the obstacles, the Chosen were also altering their methods. That was progress and knowledge Nivad didn’t want Osdal understanding.

  Nivad wanted them to make the same costly mistakes the Chosen were making when the EMF reached them.

  He checked the unaltered reports, looking for information on the powered armor. It hadn’t been deployed, and Nivad didn’t know if it was being controlled by friendly or Harmony forces.

  They hadn’t told him their plans; nothing was truly secure, and Nivad understood the need to keep some things close to their chests.

  The waiting was something else.

  Nivad absently smoked, feeling the stims bring life back to his body. He hadn’t left his office since the bombardment had started. No one that was connected to Masoul in any way, or was head of any other system, dared to leave.

  Dalia walked into his office. Nivad took a harder drag from his cigarette, sensing something wrong as she stopped in front of his desk, and he put his cigarette in an ashtray and pressed a button that created a noise-cancelling field and jammer.

  White noise filled the room before he waved for her to go on as he exhaled smoke.

  “We’ve got our first indications of Harmony in Osdal,” she said.

  He nodded for her to proceed.

  “The head of Osdal information took the feeds and set their people to searching for users that were sharing their feeds out and people that were looking at specific exchanges where the heavy weapons are being used. We got seventeen hits. I had Osdal check it against Earth’s viewership; there was a clear difference in viewing by the seventeen feeds,” she said.

  “Good. Now check it against every other system,” Nivad said.

  He saw the flash of confusion on her face.

  “Yes, Nivad,” she said, drawing out his name, turning it into a question.

  “I have a hunch,” he said, more than what he would have told others. He would’ve turned them into a cowering wreck for questioning his orders. Dalia had been with him since the beginning; she got a few perks.

  “I will put the teams onto it. Discreetly,” she said, the two of them locking eyes in understanding.

  “Very well. And we should cut back on having the heavy weapons even hinted at in feeds. In a few hours, I will want a large hint of the heavy weapons. We can use that as definitive proof of those interested in the capabilities of their weapon systems,” Nivad said.

  “It will be done,” she said, making a note on her surface and heading for the door. Nivad turned off the jammer and noise-cancelling field as she opened and closed the door behind her.

  Soon they will have enough rope to hang themselves, as the saying goes. Nivad pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Not even a hint of a smile touched his lips as his gut told him things were going to get worse.

  Chapter 45

  Landing City

  Masoul Actual, Masoul System

  6/3242

  Moretti saw his Chosen move out of the way of their leaders. They walked to where Moretti stood before the armored doors leading to the research and development area.

  Jerome and Dooks stood outside the doors in regular powered armor, looking like they were just waiting to get into the fight.

  “For the sake of Harmony,” said Jaka, Moretti’s second in command, and leader of the Chosen when he was dealing with other matters.

  The others joined and Moretti repeated those hated words.

  “What are your orders?” Jaka asked, the others standing back in respect.

  “We shall bring the war to the troopers and we will destroy our enemies,” Moretti said, his excitement at being so close to finishing his mission rushing through his veins.

  Jaka saw it, as a cold grin spread across his scarred and hardened features.

  “I was able to get presents from the research and development people,” Moretti said, waving to the tubes that lay on the ground behind him.

  “What are they?” Jaka asked, picking one up and touching the cord.

  “Don’t pull that just yet,” Moretti said, resting a hand on the other man’s where he touched the cord. “These are flares. Use them to get your people to rally to you before you go into battle. They will also work to mess up the troopers’ helmets, they won’t be able to see. When you get to the front lines, use them. Blind the enemy and bring Harmony its victory,” Moretti said. “I will be following your charge with the powered armor. We will hit the enemy with a wave of confusion and terror,” Moretti promised the man.

  “Understood,” Jaka said, tucking the flare away.

  “I want every leader to carry one. Spread the extras out to those that are good at following orders. Having them all detonate at the same time will only serve to intensify the dazzling effect on the enemy,” Moretti said, raising his voice so the other leaders knew he was addressing them, and waving to the tubes. Moretti looked to Jaka’s eyes. “Remember, do not use them before you join up with the other Chosen.”

  “Make sure everyone has a watch that works, and start off the attack as one,” Moretti pressed. He needed to know that they would all use their flares in one round; it would make things easier.

  “I will see to it,” Jaka promised. “For the sake of Harmony.”

  “For the sake of Harmony and for victory,” Moretti responded, getting hollers and cheers from his Chosen.

  Leaders for two hundred thousand men grabbed flares, spreading them to one in every fifty.

  They were treated with care and honor at being given such a responsibility.

  “Lead them well, Jaka,” Moretti said, taking a page out of Harper’s book and resting his hand on Jaka’s shoulder, and looking him in the eye to once again impress upon him the importance of his given task.

  “We will not fail, Moretti,” Jaka promised.

  “I will be right behind you. It is time that I got in my armor,” Moretti said.

  ***

  The grenades had been passed out, the resistance had drained the armories, and all of the powered armor was up and running. Two extra battery packs rested under newer, thicker armor.

  They looked like a metalworking project, all welds and rough edges. Metal showed where it had been cut by a plasma cutter, and new scratches marred their open shells.

  “It’s time,” Haas said. Jolie had stuck around, coordinating the distribution of supplies and turning the research and development area into a resistance base. The empty armory holding the unused powered armor was locked and secured.

  “Should get these things air fresheners or something. I come out smelling like sweaty balls and ass,” Dashtund complained.

  “What else is different?” Mark said, smiling to Dashtund.

  “Fuck, sometimes I forget you have a sense of humor in there,” Dashtund said.

  Jerome felt himself relax with the banter
.

  “I need to find a new job, like a mess chief,” Sasaki complained.

  “First, it’s mess chef, and why the fuck would you wanna do that?” Dashtund asked.

  “Food whenever I want it, no sense of adventure, and I only have to see your face three times a day,” she said, sticking her tongue out.

  “You realize you’d have to eat your own food, right?” Obe said.

  “Yeah, and?” Sasaki asked, sensing a trap but not sure where it was coming from.

  “Fuck, at least she can have a straight face—well, right before she actually tries it,” Ali said, his serious nod turning into a growing smile. He checked his extra armor plates by hitting on them.

  “Dick,” she said, shaking her head and smiling as she interacted with her powered armor’s console.

  “Hell, might get us a few days off with food poisoning,” Tal threw in, checking his armor.

  “Ugh, as much as you’re a nice dude, Tal, your farts could fucking kill cockroaches,” Ko said matter-of-factly. Jerome couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

  “Yeah, no way I’m spending two days in a toilet with you fuckers,” Dominguez agreed with her best friend’s opinion.

  “How in the hell did I get stuck with these jackasses?” Haas looked to the ceiling.

  Everyone finished up their own checks, grins on their faces and feeling better than they had in weeks.

  They were nervous and scared for what might come, but they were together and ready for it. They were closer than ever, and with their powered armor, whoever would dare go up against them had a lot less than two brain cells, and they weren’t rubbing together.

  Jerome stepped back into the armor, pushing his boots into their locks. He stretched out, his hands grabbing the actuators that moved his external hands. He sent a command from his implants.

  The armor responded, closing around him and locking itself up.

  He saw his diagnostics running through his implants.

  “You guys are fucking weird,” Moretti said, where he was getting in his armor.

  They all laughed and grinned. Their brother- and sisterhood wasn’t open to just anyone. They’d all paid a steep price for their membership.