Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) (14 page)

              “Well, that’s annoying,” Obe said, as they got to the armories.

              “What?” Iliev asked.

              “Elevators just got powered up,” Obe said.

              “Always just a moment too late to be useful,” Iliev said, as they left the first armory. It was airtight. So was the second, and so it went. Troopers checked every armory and made sure that the spine was sealed up tight. Then, and only then, did Nerva give the all-clear and the area started to get pumped full of air. The medics went to the cryo computers.

              “So we’ve got good and bad news,” said Mo, the Regiment’s medic. “Good news, the cryo pods are all still functioning. Bad news is the Troopers haven’t had their muscles worked for a few months, so they’re all dead-limbs. We’re going to have to wait a few days for their muscles to be good enough to wake them up. Or, it’s going to take weeks for them to get functional,”

              Nerva relayed it to everyone in the Division, and to General Wai back on
Reclaimer
. Everyone else was muted.

              “Very well. See to it in the meantime, Nerva, you are in command of operations on the Carrier. Lieutenant Colonel Price will be in contact with you shortly undoubtedly. Good work in securing the prize
Fearless
. It’s going to make the ledgers a little greener.” Wai cut the channel.

              “For those of you that don’t understand what the General was saying - we captured this ghost ship. Ships that are returned to the owners, when they might have otherwise been lost, are entitled to receive compensation. About twenty percent the worth of the ship,” Nerva said. Tyler and the rest of the troopers around him broke out in whooping cheers, which drowned out anything else that Nerva might say.

              ***So they lived on
Fearless
, and in their armor for two days and loafed around. Then the medics said everything was good. More of them joined the group on
Fearless
. Cryo pods opened and troopers walked out. They were confused to see other troopers, fully ready for battle and with unfamiliar faces. Nerva’s voice came through the speakers on repeat.

              “Crew of the
Fearless
, this is Major Nerva of the EMF Carrier
Reclaimer
.
Fearless
received damage to her bridge from the explosion of
Strike
Station. We are here to assist and get you back in the fight. Please don your armor and helmets. While the immediate area has been proven air-tight, we would rather not risk you breathing vacuum.” And so, it went on again and again. Nerva’s voice made
Fearless
’ troopers’ brows come together in memory. Their anger and fear were very plain to see.

              Tyler could half-read their thoughts. They had been asleep. If
Reclaimer
wasn’t there, would they have ever woken up?

              Instead of dwelling on the possibilities, leaders got their people together and got them into the armories and into their gear.

              Engineers and techs flooded
Fearless
as the numbers started to come in. A third of the carrier’s strength was dead or missing - which included all of the officers in their separate spine. Something had pierced the ship’s unarmored side of it’s hull and carved out the officer’s cryo pods. They never woke up. A few of the pods were still functional but there weren’t many..

              General Wai took over command of both ships and moved
Reclaimer
’s officers into both carriers’ command positions.

              Units were pulled apart, which gave
Fearless
trained leaders and secured Wai’s authority.

              Troopers were moved between
Fearless
to
Reclaimer
.

              Nerva had Alpha Company shipped back to
Reclaimer
. Another platoon from a different force group took over, and helped make sure there were no issues on
Fearless
.

              They came back to their barracks to find new troopers, who rested in or around their bunks.

              They stood up and saw the new master corporal bar, and dot on Tyler’s arm.

              “Dalhousie,” Tyler read. A tall, blue-haired girl - who actually suited the color and was not washed out by it - looked up. She had a perpetual scowl on her face, which made Tyler think she was fending off sexual attention much like a train would barrel through a thunderstorm. There were corporal stripes on her arm, and an air about her that said she would beat the hell out of anyone that crossed her.

             
Well, looks like this will be an interesting time.

              “Kojo,” said a dark and tanned man, who looked perpetually tired and bored.

              “Ma,” said a skinny, and nervous-looking private. He glanced around, and his epicanthic folded eyes flitted over the new arrivals.

              “Evans,” said an equally skinny, and brand new private. He was pale and awkward, like most new privates.

              “I’m Tyler and this is my merry band of idiots,” Tyler said, as he smiled to the rest of his section.

              “Smith.”

              “Sal.”

              “Iliev.”

              “Obe.”

              Each of them rattled off their names in quick succession.

              With greetings done, Tyler moved to his bunk. The rest of the section moved to their own, and told the new recruits which were empty bunks.

              Tyler grabbed the gear on his bunk, and moved it to the bunk that had been Sergeant Alvarez’s.

              He turned, and saw Dalhousie angrily flash her eyes at his actions.

              “Why is there gear in the lockers?’ Dalhousie asked, as her face became angry. “I hope you don’t expect anyone to double bunk.” Her words were a clear threat instead of a question.

              Tyler sat on his bunk. A wave of memory made it past the sea walls that he formed in his mind, to hold them at bay.

              He took a moment and looked at the floor. He saw the barracks filled with the laughter. He remembered the jokes shared, and the crap they went through, as Alvarez pulled the best from them. It turned them from people, into a unit.

              When the wave of memories passed, he found her tapping her foot with her arms crossed over her chest - probably done to minimize her looks. Sexual harassment was low with the Troopers, but people could still make unwanted advances.

              “Master Corporal?” she asked, as heat entered her voice and her green eyes flashed angrily.

              “They’re not here,” Tyler said quietly.

              “They’ve been moved to another section? You must be hard pressed to get to Masoul not having half of your troopers,” she said. She was thoughtful, and looked a little annoyed at the EMF’s planning.

              “We went from Sacremon to Earth. The cleaning crews didn’t remove their gear before we left for Masoul. Ali is the only one other than me that survived Sacremon,” Tyler said, as an edge entered his voice. She stopped her tapping foot, and her scowl turned into something else.

              “I’m going for a walk,” Tyler said, as he stood and made his way out of the room. The memories were too fresh for him right now.

              He sent a message to Mark. He got one back a few moments later, and headed for the gym. When he worked out, or hung around with people that were on Sacremon, it kept his mind centered and off of his section that was killed.

              ***

              All four sections that made up four platoons were in a semi-circle around second Lieutenant Kim and Warrant Wen. They looked over the new arrivals from
Fearless
that didn’t look like part of the platoon yet. The look in their eyes made Mark think that they were going to change that shortly.

              Introductions were made, and now Wen was looking over them all. His eyes drifted to the new members, who were the current unknowns.

              “
Reclaimer
is unlike any carrier group before it, for two simple reasons. Here we compete to be the best. There is no doing the Bare Minimum here. If I catch you trying to pass BM, then I will let Warrant Haas have the pleasure of re-educating you. Some of you are fresh to the troopers. This is good. You have less of the issues that some of the more veteran stuck in the mud might have. This is Alpha company, Major Nerva’s favourite company in the entire fucking Division. We are the tip of the fucking spear here. I will not have anyone dulling our point. For the next four months we will train, will knock out the cobwebs and teach you skills you never knew were important. They will save your damned life in Masoul.” His eyes swept the crowd. There was a fire in them.

              “We will begin with weapons draw and physical training to get those last cryo kinks out of your bones. Then, we’re going to train until we can’t think about anything but fighting. Here we will sweat, and then we will bleed in order to survive Masoul. They are unlike an enemy seen in generations. They are well organized and smart. They will bring the entire system into war, innocents and believers alike. We are going to make them see the errors of their ways. You will not underestimate them. To do so is to die.” Mark felt the people around the briefing straighten. Their faces were grim, and focused on their leader.

              “Now, since we’re not going to fight anyone in our damned smart clothes,” he started, with his voice decidedly lighter and something humorous behind his eyes now, “we’re going to draw our armor and combat load to train in.” There were noises in the ranks, and a soft
fuuuuuuuck
that made Mark look to Dashtund. He got a ‘it wasn’t me’ shrug in response. Mark held his sigh as Wen continued.

              “Major Nerva has accepted my request to use our equipment everywhere. We will deactivate our rifles, except for when on the range or training. There will be gear racks in your barracks by the end of the week. It seems that the entire Division will be doing the same, so the techs and engineers are having to fabricate a few extra,” Wen said with a certain amount of glee.

              Mark knew it would be good to train in what they would fight in. But damn, he thought about the chafing and stank that would become his daily life.

              “So, let’s be off to the Armories to collect our gear,” Wen said, as he turned and moved away.

              “First section, to weapons detachment two ranks!” Haas barked. People already moved into position behind Wen. Two lines flowed back as they marched through the corridors. They were built to fit five people, side by side.

              They got to their racks, and put their armor on. Mark watched how the new members of his section came together. There were three of them. Domo was a Southern girl, with a tanned-olive complexion. Bale was a big looking western lad.
Repulsor gunner,
Mark automatically thought. He looked at his size, as well as his armor and gear that were laid out to support more repulsor ammo boxes. Then there was the Easterner Sun, who had to be the geekiest trooper Mark ever met. The guy loved screwing around with tech, though he wanted to blow shit up instead of sit back like the rest of the techs in the EMF.

              Mark just had to make sure that they understood how
Reclaimer
worked. Sun looked like he had the idea. Bale and Domo, he wasn’t so sure of.

             
Time will show.

              Once suited and booted, they moved out of the armories and got glances and smirks from others as they moved through the halls to the training areas. They did physical training with their gear on, and cleared the mock-station.

              The experience wound down a few hours later, as they piled out of the training area and into the mess hall. They shovelled down food.

              “The damn chafing in these things is unreal,” Ko complained, and he rolled his shoulders and piled food into his mouth.

              The salty buildup of sweat, and the armor that rubbed together, was rather unpleasant. The smart clothes would get rid of the salt, but it took a bit to time.

              “Hopefully we won’t be soft as babies when we get in these for Masoul,” Dominguez pointed out.

              Mark winced, and thought about the first time he wore armor for longer than a few weeks. It was damned uncomfortable to have straps where there were no callouses.  Skin that wasn’t roughed up constantly chafed, and rubbed painfully.

              “There any word from higher about where we’re going to be headed to first?” Ishida asked, and looked to Mark.

              “The asteroid belt it looks like, moving inward would be my guess,” he said, and shrugged before he continued to eat.

              “Yay, low gee environment, then so much gas that a spark would turn it into a second sun. Onto an enemy controlled shipping station and a hell-planet, that is so fucked up that people buried themselves in it,” Dashtund said, as he used his spork as a pointing tool at all of them. “Sometimes, I just wonder what the hell people were thinking when they settled into these systems.” He shook his head and went back to eating. It was one of the rare times he shut up.