Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)

by Michael Chatfield

  The shuttle decompressed as well and the massive armored shutters opened, revealing the green and white of Sacremon that lay below the carrier like some kind of massive prey.

  Shuttles along the front rank picked themselves up and pushed forward out of the now open shutters.

  The second line rose. Mark felt the shuttle shift as power was applied to the engines and they pushed out of the carrier. The shuttles cleared the bay, the pads the shuttles had lay on rotated down and new shuttles rose from the carrier's hold.

  Shuttle crews were moving around their machines, checking them as ammunition leads poured in magazines. Rocket pods were jacked into place and secured.

  Mark felt the shuttle tilt, the image from the bay was going strange. He switched over to the view outside the shuttle. They were coming in at what must be dawn, the shadows of night receding away from their position.

  “Listen up!” The warrant said, the shuttles rattling and shaking its occupants.

  “We're inserting outside of Growing.”

  I bet I can guess why they called it Growing. Mark thought, companies picked city names, it was another way they asserted their control. Some even went so far as to give them numerical designations.

  No matter what they were boring.

  “The higher ups are dedicating all of second division to the attack.”

  When everyone got on the ground it would put them at nearly a thousand in strength for one city, that would leave them still outnumbered. Sacremon was one of the third generation colonies, it had been established nearly four hundred years ago.

  The shuttle bucked as it entered hard atmosphere.

  Nothing showed up on scanners that shouldn't be there.

  “We need to make sure that we've got a position within the city by the time the third wave comes down. Captain Nerva is coming down with the first wave,” the warrant added. “You fuck up and I'll have your ass so hard you'll think going through a black-hole would be a vacation,” she said with an edge.

  Nerva was something of a quiet legend, people talked about his past campaigns and how he had made it through some of the worst rebellions and more No Reinforcements or NR's than any other.

  As soon as most higher ups could get their asses out of the line of fire they did. Anyone above a Major would be staying on the carrier for the entire campaign, watching as others died for their orders like some massive strategy game.

  Nerva had never tried to stay to the rear unless his own people badgered him. He was a true leader, one that helped pull his people forward, not poke them ahead of himself.

  “Weapons signatures!” The pilot said as shuttles disintegrated under massed fire, their cargo turning into meteors as the atmosphere turned them into rolling fire.

  Tracers ripped up from hidden gun emplacements across the planet.

  These rebels were trained and ready, their fire was accurate and hellish. Missiles sprouted from shuttles, smashing into emplacements.

  “Missile launches!” The other pilot barked, arcing the shuttle into a steep maneuver that made everyone in the cargo hold grunt as their bodies were slammed around.

  “Fuck it, I'm getting you ready for drop!” The Cargo Master said, overriding the shuttles commands.

  Everyone stood as the red light turned on.

  Everyone was picked up and their seats retracted. They shook in the holders that had come out of the wall. Mark checked Tyler's line as he checked his. They slapped wrists.

  “Victors!” Tyler said on a private channel.

  “You fucking know it!” Mark yelled as the shuttle veered again, making the holders strain.

  Mark felt the massive cannon fire thumping into their targets as missiles buffeted the shuttle.

  Rounds from the ground pierced the cargo hold catching Jaol, Garcia, and three unlucky souls from one section.

  The red light started blinking as they were got closer to a distance where they could drop safely.

  The Cargo Master opened the hatches the ground racing down below.

  “Fucking shit, we're gonna get pasted at this speed!” The boxy looking guy beside Mark yelled, their armor was practically touching so he could hear him.

  Mark couldn't disagree with him as he looked at Xiao, both of them shuddering and shaking with the shuttle.

  Rounds raked over the shuttle's armor again, catching the Warrant and Cargo Master.

  “Fucking shit!” Mark's neighbor complained.

  “Sarge, I'm in their system I can get us a drop window,” Mark said, wanting to get the fuck off of this shuttle as soon as possible.

  “Do it, I'll patch to one section.”

  “Sarge,” Mark answered as he flicked to Tyler. “You talk to the pilots, I'm gonna look over the cargo-master’s readouts.”

  “Got it.” Tyler snapped off the channel as Mark saw the landing zone about fifty kilometres’ off. There was no way they were making that. He checked the map for some terrain that offered cover, he found it in a quarry.

  “Tyler, I got a landing zone, tagging and sending.”

  Tyler didn't even acknowledge him for a few moments, but the shuttle veered from its path and pushed full power for the quarry. The shuttle diverted as fire came from the location. Apparently they'd read that one, a new drop zone appeared over a forested area outside of Growing.

  “Get ready, I don't think they're going to slow down much for us!” Mark said to Pullo.

  The shuttle turned at the last moment and started braking, people slapped their manual releases, dropping through the floor and into the forest below.

  “Fuck!” People were already hitting the release and dropping through the floor, but the one kid next to Mark, the boy with the build of a boxer had broken the handle off.

  Mark pushed their hand out of the way.

  “Wah?” The kid said with a nervous quiver, shock overcoming him.

  “Enjoy the ride,” Mark hammered the kid's release, their line whirring out.

  “See you down there bro,” Mark said, him and Tyler hitting their releases, they were amongst the last of the people in the cargo hold to drop.

  “Wooh!” He yelled he held his rifle ready as his line snagged but kept playing out. He looked up as the shuttle banked, a rocket heading straight for it.

  Where the fuck did these colonials get weapons like that!? He thought as he hit the emergency release.

  He fell the following ten feet, rolling.

  The shuttle was hit as it veered up, lines getting snagged, one cutting someone in half as he hit the ground, thankfully it was a hill as he collapsed his legs and rolled.

  He stood up, dizzy and bruised.

  The shuttle was releasing its lines as it put all of its power into its engines and headed away.

  Mark grabbed his rifle, checking it, and the pistol he'd had to buy. He saw Tyler racing towards him. The boxer kid he'd been sitting next to was coming for him too.

  “Hey you!” The boxer guy said.

  Mark ignored him as he found some cover and Tyler got to him.

  “How is it?” Mark asked, using his implants to change his HUD to something that showed him the battlefield.

  “We're all over shit creek and the Colonials here are a lot better than we thought. They have tunnel systems like the Viet Cong.”

  Mark nodded in disgust.

  At least we didn't waste those nine months learning nothing, though it's only showing you how badly fucked the situation is.

  A heavy machine gun cracked in the distance Tyler and Mark looked for where it came from while the boxer got to them.

  “Hey you,” he said lifting his chin to Mark but still checking the area, he got a mental nod from Mark. He might sound like a thug but he wasn't careless.

  “Yes?” Mark asked, ready to fight if he needed to.

  “Thanks,” the boxer said with a nod.

  “No problem,” Mark replied, some tension draining from his body as he looked to his map. Tyler was right about them being all over the place, the shuttle's
two sections were spread over nearly a kilometer and a half of ground.

  “I'm Mark, that's Tyler,” Mark said, using his chin to gesture to Tyler who nodded.

  “Jerome,” Jerome said pointing his rifles butt to himself.

  “The General is calling NR until we clear a landing zone,” Sergeant Pullo said over the two section's net, a quick scan revealed that the other Sergeant hadn't made it down.

  “Master Corporal Tong is in charge of one section.”

  “An NR on my first drop. You're fucking me,” Jerome said. An NR was everyone's worst nightmare. It meant No Reinforcements, it was meant to bolster the forces on the ground to take back the area they were in to get assistance. It usually meant a slaughter for the forces on the ground.

  Mark saw that another section from fifth division was just two-klicks away.

  “I want everyone to regroup on this rally point as I try to get in contact with higher and understand what in the fuck we've got on the ground,” Sergeant Pullo said.

  The sky still had shuttles coming in from the first drop, weapons fire arced into the bright and clear green sky. It was easy to figure out where the cities were from the lines of tracer rounds sprouting from them. Missiles reached up the shuttles as well. The shuttles auto-cannons and turrets were firing as their pods launched missile after missile.

  “Sarge I've got a section from five divisions that would just take a seven-hundred-meter detour or so to check out,” Mark said.

  “I don't want you going all one-man-mission on me Mark,” Sergeant Pullo's voice was tight.

  “I have Tyler and Jerome from one section with me,” Mark said, there was a short pause before Pullo came back on the line.

  “Do it, I'm not going to send the section after you if you get lost though,” Pullo answered.

  “Understood Sarge.” Mark looked to Tyler who nodded, he'd been listening.

  “Well looks like I'm stuck with you for now,” Jerome said checking his gear and sounding a little unhappy about being volunteered for this little trip.

  “Let’s get going then,” Mark said as they got up and started jogging in the direction of the fifth division section.

  “You hear that?” Tyler asked.

  “Huh?”

  “What?” Mark asked leaning against a tree.

  “Artillery fire,” Tyler said, confirming his own thoughts.

  “Well this day just keeps on getting better,” Jerome complained.

  “As long as it's not on us we keep moving,” Mark said, jogging through the undergrowth. There was a myriad of colors but none of them cared, they just wanted to get through the tangled mess as fast as possible.

  It took them about ten minutes to get close to the other division's section.

  “Stupid.” There was no answer to Marks challenge as he signalled for Jerome and Tyler to flank as he moved up, he nestled his E-12 into his shoulder as he crept forward.

  He came to a ridge and found the squad. They were all contorted around the hole they'd dug. It looked like they'd opened their visors to rest when the poison had hit. They'd struggled in pain, their eyes had bled and their skin had opened in blisters. Their lungs and airways filled with blood as they fell apart. A few had been lucky enough to kill themselves.

  Fear, raw and terrible filled Mark.

  He'd seen death before, but this wasn't killing, this was exterminating. That's how I'm going to die, with no one and nothing, in the dust on some shitty planet. He wanted to throw up but knew it would just stay in his helmet. He wanted to run as far and as fast from here as possible. He pressed his fear, his vulnerabilities and emotions down and let anger fill him.

  “Put your gun down!” Someone said in accented Universal. Mark saw three people emerge from the tree line behind him; lines showed that they'd been in the trees waiting for a victim. He'd been so wrapped up in grief he hadn't heard them.

  Mark knew that they'd kill him if he turned, in his head he was swearing at himself for letting his guard down.

  “I have three assholes behind me,” Mark said to Jerome and Tyler.

  “Coming.” Tyler's voice cold as hardened steel.

  Explosions went off somewhere in the background as Mark took off his sling and lowered the gun.

  He twitched his triceps, catching the blade with a thumb.

  The three manoeuvred so that they were behind him as they advanced.

  “Look at that you have a perfect grave already,” one snarled.

  “Fucking Company pig,” another said as Mark fear turned to anger. Wait. He thought as one of them pressed their gun to his head, the others at twenty degrees from him on either side, not ninety so they had a clear shot.

  “Do it Syd!” One said to the executioner, their barrel shaking on Mark's helmet.

  “Any last...” The other that had called Mark a company pig started.

  Mark turned, his left hand slapping the rifle that had been pointing at his head, away. It went off as Mark drove his blade into the would-be-executioner's neck. He left it there as the hand he had used to slap the rifle away now grabbed it, finding the trigger.

  The Executioner dropped.

  Mark's augments were ramped up as he eyeballed the two others that had been lounging back with their guns.

  He fired on the first. Their chest and head disappeared. The rifle was some sort of grenade launcher.

  The third was already running. Mark fired at their legs, he must've nicked them with a round as they went down sprawling.

  The person beneath Mark was kicking and screaming. Mark had apparently gotten their windpipe instead of jugular. They were drowning in their own blood the noise sent a shiver even through Mark's haze.

  “Thought you could kill me fucker?” He snarled as he ripped off their helmet.

  He stood and looked at his executioner, anger turning to dread and guilt.

  It was a girl, she must have been in her teens and now she was gargling on the same poison that killed the other section. She clawed at her face to somehow try and stop it. She tried to scream but nothing came out but gargles from her opened windpipe.

  Thoughts raced through his mind of how much she had to live for, how she could've had an actual family here. Maybe the other two had been relations even.

  He looked at her, his eyes filled with horror at what he had done. He moved to his rifle, grabbing it with numb hands. Training driving him forward.

  “Mark!” Tyler yelled out as Mark got his rifle. He looked at the girl.

  This is fucked up. She could've had a normal life, not one lived in a dump, or fighting for her life in some forest somewhere.

  Even with her last breaths she was fighting for that life. He knew it wouldn't come, he could only end her suffering.

  “Mark!?” Tyler said as Mark pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the girls head.

  It bucked in his hand, her arms falling to her sides. Her silent attempt at screaming stopping as she looked up at the sky with crying eyes. He looked at his hands which were covered in her blood from putting a knife in her throat.

  He pulled the blade from her neck, wiping it on the ground.

  “You okay?” Tyler asked, his rifle up and ready, scanning the area.

  “Yeah, let's go meet up with the section,” Mark said, knowing that he wouldn't forget that moment for the rest of his life.

  “Victor's report in,” Pullo demanded.

  “It looks like the local population is using gas. I'm marking the section's position, they're all dead. I've got a sample of the toxin.” Mark said.

  “Good, I've got in contact with higher. We'll get that sample to the medics and they should be able to get us a vaccine. I want you back here immediately,” Sergeant Pullo said.

  “Yes sergeant,” Mark answered..

  Jerome was moving to the man that Mark had sent tumbling.

  “Is he alive?” Mark asked.

  “Yeah, looks like it,” Jerome replied.

  “Sarge, we've also got someone from the local populat
ion, a fighter, he might be of use. Not sure if he's been infected or not though.”

  Pullo took a few seconds to reply as Tyler and Mark moved into the trees and away from the section.

  “Bring him, if he's too much trouble then drop him.” Pullo's voice was filled with cold fury, it was hard to not be angry at the losses they'd sustained already, they hadn't even attacked a city yet.

  “Understood.” Mark turned to the channel with just Jerome and Tyler, “Jerome, search him and make sure he'll survive, higher wants him. Tag and bag him. I'll cover. Tyler, make sure no one creeps up on us.”

  “On it,” Tyler said scanning the forest as Mark aimed at the man struggling on the ground. His gun had gone a fair distance when he had gone sprawling with a round to the calf.

  Jerome had made sure there was no chance of him getting it. Jerome pulled everything he could find on the man, pocketing things that looked useful.

  He checked the bindings on the man's arms, simple slap-straps, put a self-heal bandage on his leg and got him moving.

  “Tyler, up front I'll take the rear.” Tyler moved off while Jerome was making the prisoner move none-to-gently. Mark grabbed the man's rifle, it was a magazine fed shotgun by the look of it.

  He put it between his ammunition pack and his armor, moving off after the other two.

  Chapter 9

  Combat Shuttle One-four-nine

  Sacremon Actual, Sacremon System

  7/3169

  Lieutenant Damien Yu was one of Earth’s Military Forces Carrier Reclaimer’s best combat shuttle pilots. He loved danger and he loved putting his foot down.

  He knew the troopers on the ground or in his Cargo bays relied on him in a very big way. If they called him in, then they were well and truly in the shit, or they were about to be.

  Now Reclaimer was on target and Yu was getting called down.

  The massive shuttle bay doors opened all of the atmosphere had already been drained from the flight decks. The flight crew in colored suits moved between their Combat Shuttles.

  “First flight is through atmosphere heavy resistance on the ground,” Yoo Ga-young said, his second. Meaning she helped fly sometimes, but her primary job was to operate the Combat Shuttle’s weapons systems.

  “Got good feeds to the guns. Our payloads are looking bored and grumpy,” Bob Rickshaw the Cargo Master and gunner said, moving around his cargo hold.