Osdal (Harmony War Series Book 3) (2 page)

Nivad smoked and looked to his view screen, staring down on mega city. “If we win, what will happen to the systems?”

Dalia hid her wince at his choice in words.

“There will be groups that will work for the new CEOs, but it will require a complete colonial reseeding to get the systems into production,” she said.

“Have the partnerships for Housapel and Fernix been approached yet?” Nivad asked.

“Through unofficial channels. They want to know how much this will cost them. They understand it will be high,” Dalia replied.

“They won’t have any profits until the new colonists and CEOs arrive. We should have them picked and transported to the systems, waiting and reseeding the systems as soon as the Troopers clear them. Still, it will take at least thirty years of profits to pay off our fees, so we will have to run them on credit.” To Nivad, the business side of these things was simplistic, relative to everything else. “What about the EMF?”

“Losses are expected to be high; we don’t know all of the tech Harmony is building, but Fernix builds freighters and was where a number of Carriers were made. They know the ships, their armor and armaments. Estimates put us at losing half to three quarters of our forces. We simply don’t know,” Dalia wasn’t optimistic.

“There’s something more than numbers we have to think on. What will the Troopers be like after surviving the war against Harmony?”

“I guess it is a war now, so what do you think, Wallace?” Nivad asked, throwing his cigarette into a disposal chute.

“We’re going to have heroes, and that’s something I think that we should embellish. We want people to get behind us and support our war? We want more people watching the feeds? We need heroes. Hell, that group that infiltrated Masoul… they’re already heroes. We need real leaders, none of the politicking CEOs in EMF uniforms. We’re going to have to remove most of that crust and let Trooper leaders, real leaders, step into that space.” Wallace paused. “But we have to remembered that these leaders will have their people’s loyalty, so we have to make sure that we always have a way to control the situation, some kind of charges, medical release, retirement and so on. We’re going to have to run a balance, there will be hundreds of thousands of Troopers working together. We need to make them as effective as possible as they face down millions. We also need to make sure they don’t turn that confidence against us.”

“So we balance the heroes with our strategies to remove them from the limelight, but we also have to deal with a disparity of forces, and the fact not many will be of use to us,” Nivad said.

“Essentially,” Wallace agreed.

“You said that they will be facing millions, on Osdal there are twelve million people. Housapel has fifty million and Fernix has twenty-seven. How do we know that any Troopers will survive?” Nivad asked.

“Look at EMFC Reclaimer, the carrier has gone through two bad systems, statistically those that survived Sacremon survived Masoul. Their overall survival rate, compared to EMFC Fearless, was higher - other than in units primarily staffed by Reclaimer Troopers that had been transferred,” Wallace said.

“It’s the reason that they are going to be reinforced, instead of reinforcing other units,” Dalia supplied, remembering the conversations they’d had on the subject.

“So if the Troopers survive their first engagements, then they should survive the later ones?” Nivad asked.

“It will get rid of the worst Troopers, only increasing the effectiveness of the units left behind. Accidents happen and they will die, but they will have a greater effect,” Wallace said.

They had all needed to learn about the EMF and their Troopers in order to combat the threat that Harmony posed to their system. Wallace had studied unit tactics as Dalia dealt with the numerical side of the situation.

Nivad trusted Wallace’s judgement. “Status of our carriers headed to Osdal?” he asked, and Dalia glanced to her surface.

“They are a year and a half away from the system. Five carriers are waiting.”

“The others?” Nivad asked.

“We need to make the decision to have them go to Osdal or hit Fernix and Housapel,” she said.

“Have forces move to Housapel and hide outside the system. We have limited intel coming from the ground, so having scans on the system will be of utmost importance. If we see a weakness, we’ll hit them, and I want forces stopping any traffic leaving or entering the system. However, I want the full force of our EMF focused on taking Fernix. We cannot let them get carriers and start attacking colonies,” Nivad said, pressing his finger on the table to punctuate his point. He sat back in his chair as he continued. “I want our carriers intercepting freighters to Fernix, and sending them to Masoul. Once we control Osdal, I want to shift all of our forces, except those around Housapel, to hit Fernix and then Housapel. We’re going to need freighters and carriers to revive the economy, we don’t need household goods and electronics.”

“Intercept all materials moving between the systems, and have forces gathering intel as we move forces to hit them en masse,” Wallace summarized.

“Exactly,” Nivad said.

“We’ve also shut down the connection to the banking system; the leaders will probably figure another system out, but it puts their funds now at our disposal to use against them,” Dalia said, pushing something up on her surface, and it appeared on the obsidian desk.

Nivad looked over the numbers; three systems’ worth of wealth at his fingertips.

The thrill he usually felt looking over the sheet was dulled by the reality that he would much rather have the systems back to the way they were instead of having all of that wealth at his disposal.

Chapter 2

EMFC Reclaimer

Moving from Masoul System to Osdal

1/3266

Mark woke up from cryo for the sixth time in his life and, unlike the last time, he wasn’t suffering from the effects of being ripped out of cryo by drugs.

He grabbed the bars of his pod and pulled himself out.

His platoon were all stretching, working their tongues and spitting on the floor to try and get rid of the cryo aftertaste. After Masoul, there weren’t even enough of them to make up a half platoon.

Not even Dashtund, the most vocal person in the platoon, tried to make a joke. For the universe, 23 years had passed since the EMF had cleared any resistance from Masoul System.

The Troopers that had been there got two weeks leave to get over their loss, pull themselves together, and walk into their cryo pods.

No time passed in their cryo pods, so they woke with the losses of their friends still fresh.

Tyler caught Mark’s eye, and even he looked downcast as he nodded.

No one yelled to get people moving, like they had on Mark’s first deployment. There weren’t any new recruits, only veterans with hard eyes and lined features.

Mark turned his implants on, his view showing the same Heads Up Display his helmet would. Everyone was healthy, and the battle net confirmed that there were no enemy locations in the area of Reclaimer.

Mark turned to the net where information and orders were passed through, and where there was a chat room for all Troopers.

The post he was looking for was at the very top.

Orders:

Check Troopers’ status.

Prepare for reinforcements.

Commence training.

Proceed to Osdal System.

Mark let out a sigh as they exited the spine in a press of bodies. The spine held all of the enlisted Troopers in a central area, running the length of the ship.

“’Sup?” Jerome asked, sounding tired and bored.

“No indication of how much time we’ve got to train, or how long it will take to get to Osdal,” Mark said.

Jerome was a shorter, tanned man, but training and augments had turned him into a hefty slab of corded muscle. He could easily carry his armor, ammo
and
two other Troopers with the same load out.

Mark and Tyler had accepted him into their brotherhood; they’d fought together on Sacremon and that friendship had only grown with time.

“Awesome,” Jerome said, his eyes smoldering as he ground his teeth in annoyance.

Second Lieutenant Haas turned as they were walking so he could include the 18 Trooper platoon in his announcement. “Captain Ortiz wants to see us.” Haas was a solid man, heavyset like everyone else, with sandy blonde hair and eyes that had been dulled by loss, anger and fatigue.

The platoon didn’t ask questions, but straightened as they followed.

People talked here and there, but there was little to talk about. They were only ever woken up to fight someone. They all knew that the group calling themselves Harmony had been using Masoul as a testing ground, and it had taken two Earth Military Force Carriers to destroy Harmony in Masoul.

Some eighty thousand Troopers had died to secure the system.

If that was just their testing ground, Osdal’s going to be hell,
Mark thought as the lift stopped.

Their platoon had lost thirty-two people in Masoul.

Second Lieutenant Haas sat at the front of the conference room, and Warrant Zukic sat next to him. Their entire Platoon was arranged around the conference table, waiting for their orders.

Captain Ortiz was a fire-plug; short, strong as a tank, always pissed off and just waiting to snap. Yet, under all that, he was a good tactician, and he knew when to stow the anger and look at the situation in front of him.

He cared about his Troopers first and foremost, and people respected the man.

“Smoke them if you got them,” he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Others did the same, if for no other reason than to remove the taste in their mouths.

Mark chewed on gum and pulled out a pack of chewing tobacco.

Ortiz sank into a chair, and Mark had his chew encased in gum when Ortiz started talking.

“Osdal is in open uprising; thing’s a shit show.” His eyes unfocused before a hologram appeared in the center of the table, showing the Osdal system. There was a sun, five planets and a thick Oort cloud. The first two planets from the sun were uninhabitable. The third planet was covered in organic materials - it was called - and the fifth was an iron-based planet, high in rare metals, called Osdal Actual. Refining facilities lay across the planet, and in-orbit processing stations took the materials from Osdal3, Osdal Actual and the Oort cloud, and then turned them into whatever their clients needed.

The whole system had been turned into one massive material supplier.

“Been doing it in the open for Twenty-One years. They didn’t spread like they did in Masoul; they were already in every area across the system. The entire fucking thing is hostile.” He took a drag of his cigarette. “There are twelve million people in all of Osdal. The cryo facilities were the first things to be destroyed. We are getting some information, but it’s slim; they control all of the information here. We know that they have powered armor and they can use it to bully people, but I don’t know if they’re any good with it in a fight.”

Mark pulled an empty water pouch from his leg and spat into it.

Here’s why he called us up here.
Mark thought,

The whole room was focused on Ortiz. “Your platoon is the only group of Troopers that have used powered armor, ever. We will be linking up with five other carriers, not including Fearless and Reclaimer. Higher wants people to be trained to take down powered armor. We’re supposed to get more in a few years, but it will probably be too late.”

“So you want us to train people to take down powered armor?” Haas confirmed.

“Yes. Be prepared to be used for clandestine operations, and bring your platoon up to strength. Nerva’s cooking up something,” Ortiz said, pausing, looking conflicted by what else he had to say. He looked up at the men and women in the room.

“You need to understand that these are five different carriers, that’s five new generals and sets of people we need to deal with. Nerva is going to be doing his best to get us the best Troopers. Reclaimer and our people have shown that we’re good, time and time again. We look good. That makes other generals and Troopers look bad, so be ready for hostilities,” Ortiz’s voice was light, but all of them saw the warning in his eyes.

***

Tyler ran his finger over Alexis’ new stripes on her smart clothes, two bronze lines over a bronze dot, identical to the insignia on his own arm.

She wandered out of the shower drying her hair, naked as the day she was born.

She was the most beautiful woman Tyler had ever met, and not just for her body, but for her mind and smile too.

“Husband, clothes,” she said, towelling herself and holding her hand open.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down.

“Will you two please get a room!” Waz, her second in command called; the rest of her section were out and taking in the last of their leave, sleeping, reading or playing a card game.

Alexis hit Tyler’s arm.

“Way to make me look like a sergeant,” she said. She got off of him, putting on the shirt and pulling her pants out from under him.