Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) (56 page)

             
Yet we both know that it adds up. We’ve been in this business too long to not trust our gut instinct,
Nivad thought.

              “Which ones?” The question was light, belying the importance of the information.

              “Other than Osdal, Mintran, Fernix, and Housapel showed similar viewing behavior. The users were logged and regional heads are looking into it. They haven’t figured out that we think Harmony is at work there,” Dalia said.

              Nivad picked up on how she said ‘is’ instead of ‘may be’, or ‘could possibly be.’

              “Move the limbo carriers into position without raising alarms or suspicions,” he said.

              She didn’t try to argue, simply nodded. The amount of credits it would take to get those carriers moved, and the cost to wake up all those troopers, was more than some companies made in a decade.

             
I have a feeling that we’ll be needing only too many of them soon. This war has just started.
Nivad stood; it was time he got a shower and some sleep. The next round wouldn’t be for another twenty-four years.

Chapter 49

             
EMFC Reclaimer

             
Masoul Actual, Masoul System

             
7/3242

              Jerome looked around the room. None of the Triple-Twos wanted to be stuck in a briefing room, but they were.

              As soon as their powered armor was on its last hour of charge, they’d been ordered back to Reclaimer.

              The armorers were going over the powered armor as soon as they were out of it.

              Their hair was still wet from the shower they’d been ordered out of.

              Thankfully someone had had the insight to get real food delivered to them in the conference room.

              The situation on Masoul Actual was stable; the EMF controlled their levels. The resistance was still running around harassing them, but for the most part they were staying with the troopers and helping out.

              Troopers relaxed, watching their sensor feeds; if Chosen got too close to the blown-up access points, they threw grenades down.

              It was a callous way to win, and there was little honor in it, but the troopers cared little for honor and all about getting away from Masoul with all its Chosen and Harmony sympathizers.

              Most of the other towers outside of central had already blown their levels and were holding them easily.

              The Triple-Twos had been tasked with helping the troopers in contested towers disengage from the fight and blow their access points.

              Domo, Ma, and Obe’s bodies were still at Central Tower. After helping the other towers, there were only seven of the platoon not being seen to for injuries.

              Iliev, Ali, Dashtund, Dominguez, Jerome, Kojo, Young, and Haas had only suffered small scrapes and bruises.

              Zukic, Holm, Bairamov, Tal, Tyler, Ko, Yu, Niemi, Mark, Bobbie, Dooks, and Sasaki were in medical getting patched up.

              Ko looked stable, but it was too early to tell. His organs—ribs, lungs, most of it had to be replaced.

              He was alive through machines and sealant.

              If anyone could save him, it was Reclaimer’s medics.

              No one was as bad as Ko, but Bairamov and Sasaki had the worst.

              Missing limbs, severe concussions, and broken bones weren’t a big issue when a printer could pump a new one out in minutes and a few painful injections would send you right on your way to healing.

              The biggest injury was concussion; those helmets could stop rounds, but the force of impact fucking
hurt
.

              Mark could barely see straight, that much was evident as he threw up on the shuttle back. The big man had kept himself in the fight three hours after getting his bell rung.

              Jerome looked up as Moretti came through the door wearing blue smart-clothes without any nametape or insignia.

              A few smiled and waved; Moretti did so as well, relaxing as the room filled with white noise.

              He waved people to their seats and grabbed a sandwich from the food delivery.

              “First, I’m going to ask that none of you use my name, and pass the word on to the others. Call me M or DM in the presence of others; some have started calling me Eye,” he said, shooting a glance to Dashtund, who’d painted the eye on Moretti’s powered armor.

              “Can do,” Haas said, looking to the others. They nodded. Moretti had watched their backs, so if he didn’t want others knowing something, that was fine by them.

              “Thank you,” Moretti said, giving them a rare genuine smile.

              His hand went into his pocket and the white noise disappeared.

              “All of you will be asked to give a recollection of the events; this will be recorded and sent to the ministry. It might take a while, so I would expect you to return to Masoul Actual until the fighting is over,” Moretti said.

              “Will we be able to keep the powered armor?” Haas asked.

              “Yes. I have been talking to the higher-ups and they want you to get better acquainted with them. We might need them for our next engagement,” Moretti said.

              “M, where will this next engagement happen?” Iliev asked.

              “We have confirmed Chosen and Harmony personnel within Osdal. I would think that would be our next objective,” Moretti confirmed, nodding.

              He bit into his sandwich, whilst the others looked thoughtful.

              “Are they as bad as Masoul?” Kojo asked.

              “It doesn’t look like it, but a lot can change in twenty-four years,” Moretti said.

              “When you going back to Earth?” Jerome asked.

              Moretti finished his sandwich.

              “For the foreseeable future, I am attached to the EMFC Reclaimer as a Subject Matter Expert, or Schmee, as you people keep reminding me.” He looked at them severely, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

              It was still too early for people to give him a full-on smile.

              Ministry of Intelligence, but if needs must, I will be attached to your unit on excursions.” He looked to Haas, who nodded. “It looks like there will be some carriers meeting us along the way; instead of having Reclaimer’s units dissolve, they will be reinforced by the carriers. I’ve heard noise of promotions in the air,” Moretti warned, his eyes looking around the room.

              “Fuck me, right?” Dashtund sighed, sitting back in his chair. “I like being a corporal!” he complained.

              “There will be more than enough occasions for you to get your ass busted down to corporal,” Haas promised.

              “There better be!” Dashtund said.

              Jerome shook his head at Dashtund’s antics, the mood feeling lighter already.

Chapter 50

             
EMFC Reclaimer

             
Masoul Actual, Masoul System

             
9/3242

              Mark headed through his section’s barracks before flopping down on his bed.

              “That good?” Ko said from his own bed.

              It had been two months since they’d been recalled to Reclaimer. The oxygen levels on the troopers’ controlled levels were too low for humans to survive for five days.

              Troopers were moving down again, looking to make sure the towers were clear.

              Gas Planet and Shipping Station needed workers, and the resistance were only too happy to leave Masoul Actual. No one wanted to live on the planet. Maybe someone would in the future, but until then it would be left in its current state.

              Ko had made it through surgery; his side was a mass of fresh pink skin, but he’d escaped medical and spent most of his time reading or walking to the cafeteria. He was still too weak to use weights and try to recover his strength.

              “Just amended my recording for the
fifth
time. M didn’t even try to tell me it should be the last one now. Those Ministry of Intelligence types have so many damned questions,” Mark said into his pillow.

              “Did you get the message about combat operations?” Ko asked, looking over from his bunk.

              “Nope,” Mark said. He opened up his implants and saw his messages and reports cascade; it was almost enough to make him turn it back off.

              “They’ve secured Central Tower and the powered armor we left behind, all intact and just like we left it. The other towers are looking clear as well. Shouldn’t be long until we’re headed for Osdal,” Ko said.

              “Yeah,” Mark said, that one word encompassing just how tired he felt. His life had been nothing but fighting for survival, and it didn’t look like it would change anytime soon. Only now he had lost people he saw as brothers and sisters; it took a toll that couldn’t ever be put into numbers or words.

              “I’m gonna grab a beer,” Mark said, pushing away the images his brain dredged up from Sacremon and Masoul.

              “Give me a hand, I’ll come too. Got to test out this new liver and kidney,” Ko said.

              Mark picked himself up and helped Ko to his feet. He was good once standing; it was the bending at the waist that did him in.

              “Thought the liver was regrowing itself?” Mark asked.

              “Yeah, but the kidney is new,” Ko said. They made for the door in companionable silence.

              The walk to the mess was a quick one. Troopers in the halls were just coming back from Masoul Actual. They needed a shower, but they’d been able to get sleep and food while they were on Masoul.

              They nodded to Mark and Ko as they walked, most talking to one another in hushed tones and taking second glances at them.

               “I even remembered to do my flies up,” he said, getting a weak laugh from Mark and grinning at his own joke.

              They got to the mess to find troopers there already, and before they could get to the bar, someone passed them each a beer.

              “Thanks,” Mark said to the regimental sergeant major.

              “Yousaved a lot of people’s asses. Never seen anything like that drop. The Chosen would have crushed us if it wasn’t for your platoon’s preparations. I don’t know how you pulled off the grenade thing in the Chosen’s frontlines, but I have a good number of buddies that are around because of that.” The warrant held up her beer; Ko and Mark tapped it, accepting the praise and getting a good mouthful of their beers.

              “I doubt you lot will be paying for beers for some time. You ever need anything, find me. Regimental Sergeant Major Kumar,” she said by way of introduction.

              “Will do, RSM,” Mark said. Ko nodded.

              With that, she gave them a nod and headed off, beer in hand and wearing grimy smart clothes.

              Mark and Ko found a couch and sat down on it. They talked about their recordings, about what might await them on Osdal, and after another couple of free beers, they started talking about those they’d lost.

***

               It had been a few weeks since the interviews had ended, and a week since the memorial services had been held.

              Fearless and Reclaimer were heading out from Masoul at their fastest speed. Freighters and shuttles were shipping the last resistance fighters out across the system.

              Tyler remembered the hope he’d seen in the eyes of Jolie and the other resistance fighters. They just wanted to have something steady.

              Tyler saw all too much of himself in their eyes.

              That was what he had hoped for when joining the EMF. Things were more regular: he woke up in a system, donned his gear, and went to war; his friends died, cleaner bots stripped them of gear, and he was shipped back to his carrier.

              He sighed, finding a finger in his ribs.

              “Stop thinking,” Alexis whispered, throwing popcorn into her mouth and giving him a look that she would not have been happy with if he’d done it in return.

              “Sorry, babe,” he said, smiling at her and giving her a kiss. She melted and nestled under his arm.

              He let out a small laugh. He was a killer, there was no getting around it. His wife, brothers and sisters, they were all killers.