All ten Forces were part of a single carrier group, they were administrated by a bunch of Majors, with General Wai possessing the final say for all outgoing missions and movements.
The medics, techs and support personnel that kept the Troopers going made up an additional twenty-five thousand or so. That put over a hundred-and-sixteen-thousand men and women under the control of General Wai, a Regiment looked a hell of a lot smaller when looking at those kinds of numbers.
Mark leaned against some massive farming equipment, it stood at least three stories high and twelve long.
He kept watch on the net for the other regiments, their losses hadn’t been all that bad, he checked their ammunition count and snorted in his helmet.
“What’s up?” Tyler asked, he had come back to the field, happy to find that Mark grabbed his customized rifle from where it had been left in medical before the ‘cleaners’ had shown up.
“So much for us thinking this was easy.” Mark sent the information direct to Tyler.
“Damn, what were they doing, taking in the sights?” He pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair which had grown over the last four months since they’d awoken from cryo-sleep.
Mark pulled off his helmet, pulling a tin from a pouch.
“It just looks like we got one of the harder objectives.” Mark extracted a mossy looking mass from the tin, it was a creation based on dipping tobacco. Now it was simply called chew and came in a variety of flavors and didn’t have any impact on a person’s health, other than giving them a rush of caffeine and other stimulants with it’s use.
Yeah and it took nearly five times the ammunition. He admitted to himself, pressing the chew between his lip and teeth, using his tongue to pack it into a nice tight mass.
Gupta motioned to the tin with his chin and Mark tossed it to him. Gupta had started him on the habit and they’d been sharing tins ever since they’d been able to get some stimulant’s down to Sacremon.
Thank god for Cargo Masters!
Mark spat on the ground, he caught sight of Dolche and Jerome. They walking towards him from the ammunition point, having just filled up their reservoirs and stacked extra repulsor ammunition on their bodies. Mark’s pack was resting on some pallets with Tyler’s.
Mark waved in greeting.
“Any word?” Dolche asked, using the pallet to relieve himself of his ammunition pack and his repulsor.
Mark shook his head, tapping down a piece of chew that hadn’t gone into the right place.
Tyler gave him a grim look, “Nothing yet, Captain Nerva is in a briefing with Major Huang.”
“Great,” Dolche said. Mark moved to help Jerome who was also getting rid of his gear, his strap had caught on his armor plates.
“Good to be out of that crap,” Jerome said, stretching to get feeling back in his body.
Dolche sat down with a grunt and produced a cigarette, he lit it and took a long drag. He held it for a long second before exhaling in relief.
Jerome and Tyler got to talking about guns and modifications they’d been looking at while Mark spat on the ground in peace. Dolche smoked away, everyone knew better than to try and interrupt his cigarette break.
“Cheers,” Gupta said, tossing Mark his tin back and spitting on the ground.
“No one can resist the taste of good old wintergreen,” Mark said with a fat-lipped grin before again spitting on the ground.
“After this we’ll grab some Cohelans cigars, now those things are good,” Gupta said.
“Count me in, I need a Cohelan after this,” Dolche said, lighting up a new cigarette.
“Join the EMF, use every stimulant known to man, and blow up greedy fuckers,” Jerome said with a relaxed smile.
“We have ourselves a damn philosopher here,” Pullo said, a note of warning in his voice as he came from around the farming equipment.
Mark stood straighter, his hand’s falling to his E-12, his eyes narrowing in question.
Captain Nerva followed him, one eyebrow quirked as he looked at his bodyguards. Pullo had remained in command of them. Charlie company had been basically reduced to barely a platoon, it was easier to absorb them into new companies rather than redistribute troopers and support personnel.
So Pullo’s hodgepodge section was easily adapted to Nerva’s guard. Though it seemed like they were more a strike force than anything, being sent to liaise with Alpha company, or being used as the forward section to clear some particularly nasty areas.
The other sections made sure that they were filled with food, water and ammo first as they got precious little time off.
Mark let his E-12 hang on it’s sling once again, spitting on the ground. Pullo’s face was tight and a little white, his lips pulled together in a severe look. Nerva looked as if he could be on one of the ‘beaches’ that Dolche had talked about retiring to every once and a while.
“We’re going to be attacking Processing in four hours, I’ve already sent word to the regiment’s leadership so try and look presentable for them,” Nerva said dryly.
Jerome and Tyler got off of the floor and Mark moved away from the farming equipment. Gupta gave Dolche a hand to his feet, smoking the entire way.
It didn’t take long before the rest of the Regiment’s leaders filed in. They were talking in their twos and threes as they moved around Nerva. Pullo stood to his side. Warrant Fisher had been one of the unfortunate few to have his combat shuttle taken out by Growing cities defences.
Pullo had effectively become the warrant second grade for the company.
Nera put a hologram projector in the centre of everyone so they could see the blue city that rotated in mid-air.
It was made up of relatively flat buildings that were positioned like the spokes of an old wagon wheel with the spoke being the eight tallest buildings on Sacremon.
The city would normally function as the central refinery for the plant. Materials would be taken in at the massive low-lying building, then pushed to the progressively smaller buildings, going from raw crops into products. They would package and send the product to the eight massive towers that pushed their way into the heavens. The finished products were stored in crates in the towers, waiting for a freighter to come by so they could be shuttled up and sent off to another system.
There were a few changes that the colonists had done, colored in red, first the roads that separated the different factories had been blocked off, the outer three layers of factories had been demolished to make clear lines of sight and leveled to give the Troopers little cover. Rails had been destroyed so that no one could use transport from another city to get access to Processing. In short it had been turned into a fortress.
“We have been able to get very little information on what kind of strength the colonists have in processing and their capabilities as you all well know. We believe that most of the booby traps that we’ve encountered and the weapon systems deployed across the various cities were made in Processing,” Nerva said, jaws tightened and eyes looked on the new map with dark anger and respect in their eyes.
If they made it there then they’re going to have a hell of a lot more of them than we saw in the other cities which doesn’t bode well.
“We’ve been selected to try and get as much information as possible from the city before the main force smashes into them. It looks like General Wai wants to play this one safe. After looking at the map it looks like going through district seven would be our best bet, the district has heavy machinery which would be a pain to move, meaning it should have less weaponry in place and some decent cover,” Nerva said, the area he was talking about becoming highlighted in purple.
“We’ll be leaving in four hours so I want a full kit check before then,” Nerva said.
“What will we have in support?” One of the leaders asked, Mark couldn’t see their nametape.
“Combat shuttles, but they will be dropping us off ten klicks from the objective so they aren’t sighted. It will take them about ten to fifteen minutes to get i
n the air and to our positions if we’re entering the city,” Nerva said.
“How come we haven’t been able to get clear numbers on the Colonists?” Another asked.
Mark saw Utkin coming around the corner he looked at the group in interest, Mark waved him over.
“It looks like they have faraday cages built into a couple of buildings that they use for barracks. We can see people coming in and out, but from estimates it looks like around three hundred thousand colonists,” Nerva’s comments made resolute backs stiffen in surprise.
Mark spat on the ground, pulling his lip tighter over his chew, liking this mission less every second.
“It’s why it was left as the last objective, the whole Carrier group is getting called in for this one,” Nerva said, his voice getting colder, pausing to let that information sink in.
“Any more questions?” After a few moments of looking around. “Good, sending you the coordinates for pick up.”
Chapter 17
Processing City and surrounding area
Sacremon Actual, Sacremon System
5/3171
Mark rocked with the motions of the combat shuttle, no longer trying to stay upright as he had the first few times he’d been on one.
“Feels like we’ve been on these things a lot more than four times,” Mark said, his visor open as he looked to Dolche who had passed out, the man seemed to be capable of sleeping anywhere.
“Yeah, doesn’t even feel like Earth ever existed,” Jerome said, sitting to Mark’s right. They’d all changed in the year they’d been on Sacremon. Nothing quite changed a man so fast and so completely like combat.
“Going home is going to be weird. If we left right now, we’d arrive back on Earth sixty-seven years after we left,” Tyler said, the shuttle lurching upwards and back down, everyone tensed listening for the hail on the tin roof of incoming rounds.
“Only getting out of the way of a tall tree,” The Cargo Master said in reassuring tones.
“Hah, look at us, a bunch of nervous ninnies,” Tyler said, his laugh sounding weak even to Mark.
The information from Processing wasn’t much and it wasn’t good.
“Ten minutes till insertion,” The Cargo Master said.
Mark let the movement of the shuttle roll through him again as they sat in silence, thinking of Earth, thinking of processing city and thinking about whether they would survive or not.
Ten minutes were up faster than they should have been.
“Coming in for landing,” The Cargo Master said, trees could be heard cracking and breaking against the shuttle’s hull as it came through the trees and settled under the canopy.
“Move it!” Alpha Companies third platoon two section’s Sergeant said. They were up and out of their seats in short order. Mark punched his own harness, him and the rest of the section standing. There was no need to go rushing out in front of the other section. Tyler, Jerome, and Mark went first. Nerva and the others following behind in quick succession.
Mark had seen Alpha company work before and they were definitely very impressive. They acted in a way different from every other company from Reclaimer, being the best was seen as a good thing, not as a way to get them shit duty. They knew that they were going to be first to come into contact with the enemy and they took pride in that.
They weren’t any different from other troopers outwardly, but their mindset was completely different and that made them a hell of a lot deadlier.
Alpha’s units moved into the forest heading for Processing. The other units weren’t far behind. After the fighting in Growing and Field’s people were looking to be as good as they could be to survive. It wasn’t the best motivator, but Mark understood it as his section moved into the trees past the combat shuttle and followed Alpha Company who searched out traps as they moved, clearing ahead of the other units.
The remainder of the Carrier group were being shuttled into positions thirty or so klicks back to make sure that they weren’t detected. Then they were slogging it up to the tree-lines while Fourth Regiment tried to find a clear way in, to allow all of fourth Assault Force into the city, giving the other forces the necessary distraction to launch their attack.
Mark cared little about that as he slogged through the forest, looking for traps that Alpha company might have not seen.
It was slow going and the amount of booby traps were as impressive as they were deadly.
They lost forty before they got to the treeline. Nerva moved up with the forward elements.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Fisk said, his tone asking Nerva more of what he was doing this close to the action instead of in greeting.
“Don’t worry Fisk, I’m just admiring the view. I don’t have any intention of moving up with your units,” Nerva said, catching onto Fisk’s tone.
“Of course sir,” Fisk said, his helmet tilting to Pullo who shrugged. Mark could almost picture Fisk rolling his eyes inside the safety of his helmet.
Nerva moved from position to position, looking at the district from different locations and talking to the various command staff.
They waited for a full day, checking out the district with their long scopes. There was nothing but levelled rubble where there had been factories, it was all pulled back to create walls around the warehouses facing outwards. There was no cover for about five kilometers to the rubble, then another two kilometers through that rubble.
It was going to be hell getting through that, there were no holes or places to hide, the damned thing looked partially unstable. Getting through it would take time, doing it at speed would only put people in danger.
Mark rose with the alarm that sounded in his helmet, the rest of the section did the same.
A quick check on the map showed that all the units of the carrier group had been moved into position, over one hundred thousand EMF personnel waited in those trees. The mass of signals and markers made Mark nod, there was a feeling of invincibility looking at that information. As if he knew that he couldn’t fail anymore. If he died, or half of them did then there would be another to take his place and avenge him.
“Okay Fourth Regiment, move out,” Nerva called out. There was no grand speech, just those five simple words which invoked its own silent form of grit. Markers moved out as Alpha company led the way, pushing forward into the district.
Nerva and his section moved out shortly after, they were shaped in an arrow with Nerva behind the arrows head.
Alpha Company pinged hundreds of mines that covered the ground between the trees and the rubble area. It wasn’t too hard but it was time consuming to skirt all of them.
Alpha reached the destroyed area.
Captain Nerva had linked in the section to his calls so that they could anticipate what he was going to do but not participate.
“Sir, it looks like the rubble has mines throughout it, but they also have metals and other materials all over the place so we can’t tell what’s a mine and what’s a dud.” Lieutenant Fisk’s voice was tight. Having his people out in the open like this was not something anyone wanted. It would take one burst of a machine gun to show where they were.
“We’re going to have to proceed.” Nerva’s voice was cold, regret that colored his voice added to that coldness. He knew what he was ordering his people to do and wouldn’t flinch from that.
“Yes sir,” Fisk said, moments later Alpha Company were running.
“Move it Fourth!” Nerva said.
They stood and started jogging, hundreds of men and women running in the middle of the night against those that were trying to defend their homes.
Helmets hid the hard eyes and thin mouths of battle hardened troopers that knew the score.
The first explosion went off and hell opened it’s gates with weapon fire.
“Move it!” Nerva’s voice demanding everything they had so that they could push through this with as many as possible. “Follow the paths of those ahead of you!”
Shutters and walls dropped as weapon emplacem
ents were revealed with more explosions going off, flares shooting into the air, turning the night into shining day with painful detail.
Troopers fired their weapons not waiting for the emplacements. Grenades and rounds flew, the colonists returning as their weapons were cleared.
Tracers from the massive weapons smashed into the troopers, ripping them apart. People disappeared from the map, Mark focused on pushing forward. Gupta stumbled and fell. Mark ran over diverting from his path.
Gupta was getting up as a weapon emplacement traversed, cutting him apart.
Mark dropped on the crap that covered the ground.
“You fucking bastards!” Mark said, yelling as his augments gave him the extra strength to push himself up and onto his feet towards the emplacements once again.
Fire came from overhead as combat shuttles entered the fray. Missiles fired from deeper within Processing, reaching out to fire overhead. Mark didn’t look to see what happened to them but he heard the KRRSSZZZZVVV as they passed through the sound barrier.
New light flared behind him and shuttle’s markers disappeared.
Mark tried to not think about it as he pushed faster, running up boulders jumping from one to another.
He saw a gun emplacement turned away from him.
“The fuckers had goddamn blast plates on the front of them! You’ve got to hit them from the sides!” He said on an open channel.
Even with the mass of noise and death that seemed to come from everywhere Mark heard the plunging fire of the support mortars.
He kept his sight on his grenade launcher and let rip into the emplacement he could see, continuing to push for it full tilt.
Fear filled him, not that courage bullshit that others talked about. He was scared shitless, but he knew from his training that turning and running would get him killed faster than trying to kill the bastard that wanted to kill him.
His grenade launcher clicked empty and he slapped in a new magazine on the move. He jumped on a boulder for a better vantage point and found himself flying through the air sideways. The fucking thing must have been rigged with a mine.
Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) Page 26
