Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) (20 page)

              Yu dodged heavy weapons fire, moving into lighter fire, the hail on a tine roof noise of rounds impacting his shuttle made his grim determination turn into a grin.

              “Oh shit,” Young said, seeing that grin.

              Yu punched more power to the engines and he did what fighter pilots had done for hundreds of years, he danced his fucking ass off.

              The Combat Shuttle might be a twenty-ton machine, in Yu’s hands it was a ballerina, with big ass fucking guns and missile racks.

              “WOOOH! THAT’S WHAT I’M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT!” Bobbie said, Yu could feel the rounds as they were spat into the Shuttle’s hungry chambers.

              “Break!” Dal said, the Pyramid of massed fire opened like dust thrown in the wind.

              Young fired missiles, Yu worked the Cannons, Bobbie used the turrets with Young jumping in when she wasn’t finding missile targets.

              Missile lock warnings came through Yu’s helmet.

              He sent himself into a spin jinking weaving and tumbling in a way that would have torn the shuttle apart in atmosphere.

              Flares fired, but there were too many and they were gaining.

              “Flipping!” Yu said, a burst of thrust had them facing their rear, their cannons and auto turrets got the last three, the last was close enough to pepper the hull with some debris.

              Yu flipped again and headed for a new target.

              It wasn’t the first time they’d battled missiles, and Yu had been doing this long enough to know that there would be more.

              They came across a larger in-system freighter; someone had slapped turrets to the thing on all four corners.

              Young let loose two missiles, the turrets diverted their attention from One-four-nine, they got one, but the second exploded sending burning hot metal shards into the freighter.

              It turned into a nuclear furnace as Yu raked a new target with his cannons.

              “Tail,” Young said as rounds could be heard on the rear of the shuttle.

              Yu banked, something he didn’t need to do in space, and something that space-pilots didn’t think of, why bank when they could simply turn in the direction they needed to go and apply thrust.

              Yu’s gamble paid off as the VIP quick shuttle tried to change to meet their new course but over shot.

              Yu used thrusters, still ‘banking’ in space, putting Young and Bobbie on target.

              Tracers connected the shuttle with their target. Rounds disappeared into and reappeared on the other side of the quick shuttle.

              The back end of the shuttle burped flame and the shuttle drifted.

              The note of hail on a roof changed as the shuttle shuddered with an impact.

              Yu was reacting as soon as the sound started, there was another sound, this one further back.

              “Find me that bastard,” Yu said.

              “On HUD,” Young said.

              “Got a new fucking skylight in my fucking cargo hold! Clipped the rear flaps too,” Bobbie’s voice hot and hard.

              Yu found his target, turned and fired three missiles at the in-system freighter, it had a cannon and two turrets.

              Yu broke off and ran, the thing had the angle and good gunners.

              The missiles took out their wannabe designer. Young was finding a new target as Bobbie and Yu hammered anything not flashing a friendly IFF.

              The skies were target rich and this was the shit they lived for.

Chapter 19

             
EMFC Reclaimer

             
Gas planet, Masoul System

             
9/3240

              Jerome could see the flash of the repulsors firing and the incoming rounds and feel the floor shaking with them. They’d cut tables free from their bolts, slapping them together to make barricades for Zukic’s section to hide behind. They weren’t the best but Harmony’s shitty weapons pinged off of them or didn’t make it more than a few layers deep. Any of the shooters that had the time to take a pot-shot were riddled with holes.

              That wasn’t to say no one was getting hit, people were going down, red, yellow and the rare black, they needed support and soon.

              One of those black markers was Kim, Wen was now in command of the platoon with Haas as his second.

              Jerome and his section focused on pulling the wounded in, filling in the gaps and helping Medic Qi to get the injured back on the line or out of their red status.

              A gunner went down, a round nicking their throat between the helmet and armored shoulders.

              Jerome grabbed them, dragging them back, seeing the gasping motions.

              “Neck hit!” Jerome yelled.

              “Open up their side, get a valve going in their lung and get clotters in the neck,” Qi said, blood covering his arms as he looked at his most recent patient.

              Jerome pulled his blade out, cutting the armor off, stabbing the person in the side, he pulled a tube with a valve in it and put it in the trooper’s side.

              “You’re going to be fine, sorry about the stabbing,” Jerome said, grabbing clotting needles and sealing spray. He used the spray liberally and injected the clotters around the injury.

              “Should have been a fucking medic,” Jerome said, the extra training had brought his rudimentary skills from barely useful to knowing a medics bag intimately, he would make a good assistant.

              He applied sealant to the tube, making sure the opening was free and attached an oxygen bag with a drain.

              Blood came out, oxygen went in. Supplying air directly to his lungs instead of going down his mangled neck.

              Qi was next to Jerome, his hands checking his work.

              “Well done,” Qi said, his voice cold and clinical. A glance to Jerome’s HUD showed that Qi hadn’t been as lucky with stabilizing the last wounded.

              There was no air in the carrier and while it meant explosive blow out wasn’t going to happen, basic medical aid became magnitudes harder.

              “Gonna need help,” Zukic said, an explosion blew a hole in the barriers and two troopers went flying back, both red with suit breaches.

              “Dooks, Huang, Bair, you good to advance?” Jerome asked.

              “Yes sergeant,” they said while other similar agreements came back. “Huang, Dooks, your fire team two, Bair with me, move!” Jerome pushed through the opening in the barrier, Bair on his trail.

              Jerome held down his trigger, the advancing Harmony rebels were caught off guard as the enemy advanced on them.

              Fifteen dropped under Jerome and Bair’s fire as if they had been punched by bloody battering rams.

              “Covering!” Jerome called the rebels off balance and reeling.

             
Keep the pressure up no matter what, when the enemy is attacking they only expect you to defend. No plan survives engagement with the enemy, make the enemy regret ever hearing that rule.
Nerva had pressed that into them as they went through his tactical lectures.

              Dooks and Huang moved to Jerome’s left, firing.

              “Covering!” Dooks yelled.

              “Moving,” Bair yelled as Jerome reloaded, then he was up running, but then falling back down onto the bodies of dead rebels.Jerome fired a burst from his gun, sending a grenade around the corridor.

              Jerome didn’t need to say anything as soon as he and Bair were firing, Dooks and Huang were moving up.

              A few brave rebels tried to get a bead on them.

              Blue and red blood flew from them, holes appearing in their thin space suits.

              Zukic and Mark rushed up next to Jerome’s right.

              “Zukic, Daniels, high-low on that corner,” Jerome said.

              Zukic and Daniels got up and moved to the corner, another rebel peeked out, rounds smashing through their helmet, gore flowing back out of it.

              Daniels kneeled as he went around the corner, Zukic stayed high, right above him.

              Red Haloes filled the corridor and started disappearing.

              Daniels was hit on his plates a few times, but they were there for this very reason. He didn’t even pause as a ricochet hit his inner forearm, cutting a groove in it.

              “Dooks, Huang, Bair, stack up behind,” Jerome said, getting to his feet and moving behind Zukic and Daniels, the red halos were in chaos.

              Zukic switched from shooting the E-12 to it’s grenade launcher with a pause so slight that Jerome barely believed it to have happened. The halls shook and red halos evaporated.

              “Got you covered, move past,” Zukic said, he and Daniels watching the hall to make sure no surprises followed.

              Jerome flowed around them, Bair, Huang and Dooks flowed with him.

              Huang’s gun was also up and searching for threats while the other’s eyes searched for anywhere a threat might come from.

              They moved through the dull grey painted and utilitarian hull. Handholds were on the walls and ceiling, and on the rubberized decking and various systems below their feet.

              Explosions had blackened the dull walls, warped it in places and opened a hole into what looked like a storage closet to the right.

              “Huang, Dooks, right, simo,” Jerome said as they closed the distance to the end of the corridor that turned into a T-junction.

              “Rog,” Huang said, moving off of Bair’s back and pushed to the left wall.

              “Set,” Jerome said.

              “Set,” Huang agreed.

              “Three, two, one!” Jerome called, they stepped out, facing down their respective corridors, no reds appeared.

              “Okay we’ll pull back, throw mines into the bodies and the fucked up decking,” Jerome said, pulling back into the corridor.

              Mines were thrown over the ground as they pulled back.

              Daniels had a strip of sealant on his arm, as soon as the foursome were to their side, their weapons came up, covering their backs.

              They sowed mines all the way to the corridor that ran outside the bridge.

              Techs were covering their rudimentary defenses with spray-ite, a sprayed on version of cermite that bonded to everything. It turned tables into bullet proof walls, as long as someone didn’t hit it with something frequent or powerful enough to crack it.

              Like a repulsor or E-12 grenade launcher.

             
Just like that shipment they’re supposed to have.

              ***

              On the outside Nerva looked as calm and collected as ever, on the inside he was in the mind to walk up to the bridge and deck the Captain in the face. Maybe it was easy for him to get his people and his ship under control what with their cryo-pods being so close to the bridge, but it took considerably longer for troopers to get up, get into their gear and start moving. It took about a day for the after-effects of being in cryo to wear off.

              Apparently
Fearless
’ troopers were up a few days ago, though it looked like they assumed the crew of
Reclaimer
were already awake.

             
Now’s not the time to be thinking of how we got here, it’s time to figure out how the hell we’re going to keep this ship, let the navy pound the fuck out of Harmony ships and then move to secure the facilities within the gas planet.
Sure Nerva was just a Major in the grand scheme of things but Colonel Nyugyen would back his plan, and unlike other Colonels he was right with his troopers getting them into armor and moving.

              There was also the minor fact the Nerva was the reason they had all got extra training. If there was something that the staff didn’t understand they went to Nerva. He might be a Major, but one that all the others looked to for the go ahead. The colonels other than Nyugyen were too far away for them to truly respect.

              Thus Nerva was the effective commander of all
Reclaimer
’s troopers.

              Thankfully a few words in the right medic’s ears and the higher ups were feeling like they had just come to after a month long binge. None of them were going to be very effective in the near future. Giving Nerva the time he needed to set up a defense.