Osdal (Harmony War Series Book 3) (22 page)

EMFC Reclaimer

Oort Cloud, Osdal System

6/3267

Nerva looked up at the priority report that came across his view, and he stepped back from the sparring that was happening.

He opened the message and scanned it quickly, his feet moving before he knew it. He turned from his class and started jogging.

“Gangway!” Nerva yelled, and people moved out of his way as he got to a lift. He punched in a priority code, and it shot down.

He got out of the lift and was running again. He got the to command center, looking to Provisionary General Domashev.

“Something up?” Domashev asked. Nerva was keeping tabs on the insertion teams and he updated Domashev and his staff every week. This couldn’t wait for the meeting.

“They’re moving the schedule up,” Nerva said, pinching the message from his view and throwing it at Domashev. His eyes went blank as he reviewed the message.

“Louise, connect me to the Captain of Reclaimer, priority one,” Domashev said, his eyes still unfocused.

Captain Conti came on screen in his bridge a few moments later.

“Nerva, Domashev,” Conti said, nodding to the two of them. He had got a lot of berating from the Troopers and learned his lesson from Masoul. Instead of getting reprimanded he was commended and made Captain of the ship, meaning he was the highest authority for operating the ship. He was then given tactical control of the fleet that was now hiding outside of Osdal.

“We have received a message from our operatives on the ground, it looks like they are moving into the final phases. Something has come up and they are accelerating their plan in case their cover is compromised. I suggest that you talk to the other Captains and have them and their crews ready for action within the next couple of months. I am going to wake up half of the Troopers on Reclaimer and I suggest they do the same. Once the plan is confirmed, and we are moving in system, we should wake up the remaining Troopers,” Domashev said, his eyes clearing.

“Very well, have there been any other developments that might affect our planning?” Conti asked.

“They have missiles, and a launcher grid that we can assume is linked to the sensor network. A group is investigating claims that there are shuttles with missile systems attached to them,” Nerva said.

Conti’s face was grave as he held his beard. “We will have half of the Combat Shuttles on offensive operations to keep the skies clear. As we’ve been perched on our asteroid I’ve had the engineers and Trooper volunteers filling up our ammunition stores. We’re back to a hundred percent on everything but missiles. We still have about a hundred locked away. I’m going to get those loaded and prepped; do you have anything else for me?” Conti didn’t need to tell them his plan, but it helped them to understand what the conditions were going to be like when they were carrying out their own operations. Conti had indeed learned more than the benefits of waking up his Troopers earlier. He’d learned to value their judgement.

“Not from us, we’ll keep you updated if the situation changes,” Domashev promised.

“Very well, then I have some Captain heads I need to knock together,” Conti said, closing the channel.

“You know that the plan Haas is presenting is promising a hell of a lot, but all he has is a company of miners,” Domashev said to Nerva. What he was really asking was
how in the hell are they going to pull this off, can they?

“Yes, and apparently Moretti has just the thing to light a fire under their asses,” Nerva replied.

Damn fucking right my people can pull this off. Especially with one on the line.

“Alright, I’m just saying that the asteroid miners have been perfectly fine with the Chosen staying out of their way and doing as they did under the companies,” Domashev said.

“I don’t know what Moretti has planned, but he did say that once he let it out of the bag it wasn’t going to be pretty,” Nerva said.

Chapter 27

Processing Station One

Osdal Actual, Osdal System

6/3267

Holm moved out of the vent, his pistol up and a silencer firmly attached. A Chosen tech was lounging in a chair with some television show blaring.

Holm kept an eye on the woman he held onto the edge of the vent he’d painstakingly removed, letting his body drop slowly. His pistol never wavering as he released his hand, dropping into a crouch. Only a thin see-through wall separated him and the tech.

The room was simple, at the front there was a workstation with a wall behind it, separating it from the multiple servers humming. He quickly made his way deeper into the servers. Keeping his ears open in case she decided to walk about.

Holm moved quickly his pistol ready as he studied the servers and the room.

There wasn’t anyone else on shift, and if Holm had his way, no one would know he was ever there. He moved into the server farm, which chugged away with fans whirring and cold air pumping through the entire area.

He couldn’t see the tech anymore but he still didn’t put the pistol away

He got to the third server stack, fourth from the left. He reached down between it and the next server, fans whirring beside his ear. He found a grip and twisted it in the floor. The grate opened and Holm felt footsteps through the decking.

He released the grip to the maintenance hatch and pulled back into the servers, then he turned around a server and saw a closet full of wiring.

Either this works, or I get enough juice running through me to turn me into human popcorn.
Holm hid in the wires, and held his pistol up as the woman came to the back of the servers, three meters from where he hid and went through a door.

He waited, his legs starting to tremble thanks to his awkward position. He didn’t dare move.

He embraced the pain, waiting. A toilet flushed and the woman came out a few moments later, heading back for the desk.

Holm put his left hand on the decking, feeling the footsteps disappear and hearing the door close to the work area.

Holm moved forward carefully pushing the wires out of his way.

He moved back to the maintenance hatch, pulling it off, revealing piping and wiring. Holm took large grey lines of putty out of a plastic bag, and put them around the pipes the wires went through. He attached a circuit board with an antenna to the putty, then did the same to five other bundles.

He checked his handiwork before moving to the grate he’d opened.

He pulled out a block of the grey putty with a circuit board and antennae on it and found the tube labeled COOLANT. He spread the putty under the tube, out of sight. The maintenance hatch went back on and he locked it with a quick twist.

He went to three other hatches with the same COOLANT pipe in them and repeated the process. Then he opened up a server and pulled out what looked like a cooling coil wrapped into a ball, with a big battery underneath.

Home made EMP grenade, never leave home without one,
he thought, tucking it away in the far reaches of the server.

“Complete, am I clear?”
Holm asked.

“We’re on the move. We’ll tell you when we’re in place,”
Tal replied.

Holm grabbed his pistol and moved back out of the server farm. The Chosen tech was still watching her show. He scaled a server to get back into the vents.

He put the vent covering back in place and started crawling. Using his hands and padded feet to grab the sides of the air duct and climb upwards. It was difficult and slow, Holm was breathing hard and sweating by the time it leveled out.

He moved through the straight air duct by careful inches, his knees, elbows hands and feet moving slowly and carefully so as to not scrape the air duct or bang it.

He came over a grate agonizing minutes later.

It was in a corridor, and up ahead there was a 30ft climb up to his original entry point. That was out, as the office they’d used was now occupied. So they’d improvise.

A big cleaning car appeared, and Iliev was dancing like crazy, pulling out a broom and a step ladder.

“Good, hurry,”
Bairamov vocalized.

Holm kicked the grate open from under him and let himself drop he fell into the thick yellow material garbage bag.

He hit his right elbow on the side, cradling it as he internalized the pain.

“Right on the fucking funny bone!”
he sub-vocalized, He grabbed the vent covering and held it above his head. Iliev grabbed it, closing the lid on the garbage container Holm was now in, nursing his elbow.

“The hell did you do?” a woman asked, getting closer.

Holm carefully pulled out his pistol with his good arm.

“Sorry, hit the grate off, damn thing is
filthy,”
Iliev said.

“The hell are you using
mop
for?”

“Looks like one of those big old dusters, thought it might get some of the grime that I saw on the grate.”

“Just put it back in place and try not to break anything else,” the woman sighing as they wandered away.

“Sure thing boss lady!” Iliev replied.

Holm heard Iliev’s ladder creaking and the grate being put in place.

Iliev put his tools away, and then Holm was moving.

Chapter 28

Mining City Twenty-One

Osdal Actual, Osdal System

7/3267

Mark had quickly learned to get as much sleep as possible. In that respect, working in the camp was similar to being a Trooper; get whatever sleep you can, whenever you can. He tucked his food away and passed out; he could eat between working the next day.

He was already losing mass, but that was to be expected. He and Caroline still hung out, looking out for one another, and they had been working in the maintenance yard for the past month. They were pulling the massive battery racks from the older machines and replacing them with new ones.

Tires and brakes were also getting replaced because they didn’t work any more. While the Chosen didn’t seem to care one way or another, it looked like they were following orders from on high. The mines were meant to keep running, having faulty equipment meant that it would only decrease production.

Mark had barely closed his eyes when someone ripped open the plastic sheeting. He couldn’t be alert all the time and he started to look around as a shock stick hit him in the head. He let out a piercing yell as his vision danced and he thought they’d burned his eyes out for a minute. The Chosen kicked and beat him, and he felt bones breaking under their batons and boots. Someone got a loop around his leg and he was pulled through the side of the lean-to plastic sheeting, whipping around as he was dragged on the ground. The Chosen laughed as his back was cut ragged on the metal ground.

The air car kept moving, with Mark being thrown around like a pendulum on the end of a rope.

The Chosen called out, but Mark couldn’t make out the words as he twisted and yelled out, metal cutting through his back, shredding it.

He could tell from their tone they were laughing at him, enjoying torturing him and calling him names.

Then they swung him again, and this time he hit a parked air car and he blacked out.

He came to later to find they’d dropped him off somewhere; he could see the camp. A bullet kicked up the dust around Mark’s feet.

His head was pounding, his skull felt fragile and his augments were focusing on reducing the brain bleed he had going on.

“Seems you lost your way Earther, get back to camp!” A Chosen called out to the snickers of the others.

“Come on Earther, time to get moving,” another said.

Mark felt pain killers flooding his system his augments were going full out, but the damage was severe, His back was a deep open wound, with only strips of skin left. Metal shavings filled the wounds. His legs were in better shape just because they’d been up in the air. The skin around his legs was bleeding from the rope.

His arms and hands were open and bleeding, and his chest and stomach also showed bleeding. He could feel teeth were missing and his face was a mess.

“Don’t worry I have the bastards in my sights,”
Niemi said.

“No, I’m okay, hold your fire,”
Mark said, his voice harsh and odd due to his broken face.

It took a herculean effort to free himself from the rope around his legs. A bullet went past his head, one of the chosen was shooting at him. He twitched at the bullet’s near-miss.

Mark’s head swam and his implants angrily told him to get the fuck back down and let the augments work.

“Holy shit Mark,”
Niemi sounded like she was close to tears as rage built in her.

“You hold your fire Corporal.”
The painkillers were slurring his words.

Slowly he got to his feet, and he heard the air car power up. He didn’t look around as his head swam, and the air car hit his back.

He grunted in new pain as he fell to the ground again, his kneecaps complaining as his ruined hands sunk into the ground, and he noticed he was missing two fingers.

Metal dust filled his wounds. It was a familiar feeling, and it reminded him of Earth. The air car was already away as Mark got himself to his feet again and shuffled forward. His hip felt weird, his ribs were smashed, and metal dust shifted in his bloody wounds like someone was rubbing a metal pad into his flesh.

The painkillers made him woozy as he walked towards the camp.

The Chosen laughed and commented, and more in air cars cajoled around, yelling and shooting. Mark was their night’s entertainment. Randomly they’d fire at Mark or hit him with an air car, sending him crashing to his knees.

He got up and continued on.

The continued to hit him, and yell insults, and some gathered metal dust in buckets and poured it on him. He couldn’t look for a time when they did that, and had to shake his concussed head else the dust would get in his eyes and start scratching them away.

He had learned the lessons about what to do and not to do with metal dust on Earth. He stumbled on, blind with pain and the occasional metal dust cloud.

Soon the Chosen lost interest and a few flew on.

Mark continued his walk, and found out that at some time he’d bitten into his tongue.

But I’m alive - and they’re gonna fucking regret that.

***

Caroline heard the shooting, she heard the yells, and she felt it as Mark was ripped out of the shack from beside her.

She had no more tears as she heard the Chosen playing with Mark. She heard something hit an air car. She went outside, she didn’t want to, but Mark had been nice, and she didn’t want him to die alone.

Mark was tied up to the back of an air car, and the chosen were milling around. He’d hit another air car and was out cold. The Chosen made up their minds, and the air car took off, dragging Mark away from the camp.

She heard a gunshot some minutes later, and other air cars went out there to go and watch their entertainment.

Mark got up; she couldn’t believe it; she was sure he was dead.

An air car hit him from behind, just as they had done with Ellie.

No, not again, why does everyone die around me?
She watched as Mark got up and walked on, bullets hit the ground around him and he walked on, other air cars hit him down, yet every time he got back to his feet and kept walking.

He ignored them as if they were nothing but a bad wind.

Caroline felt herself chanting for him as he stumbled on defiantly, half alive and wounded badly.

Other camp workers watched Mark’s progress. The Chosen were also watching with interest and joking.

Caroline wasn’t joking, she was gripped by the sight before her. Mark should have been crying on the ground and begging for death with those injuries. He cried out in pain as he hit the ground again.

Then he got up again and continued walking. Mark had made his peace with death, he would die or he wouldn’t, but he wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction of killing him.

She felt resolve harden in her. She had thought him as a protector, for his muscles and those dark eyes which watched the Chosen when they didn’t know it.

But his strength wasn’t his body; it was his determination. Pure and utter anger and hatred pushed him forward. She wondered what had happened to him to make him this way.

Maybe nothing happened to him, but he was just done watching others suffer.
She didn’t know when her thoughts changed from hoping the Chosen would give him a quick death, to her silent encouragement.

***

Niemi didn’t think she had wanted to kill so much. She knew which Chosen she would take out and in what order, and her magazines were ready but her finger stayed off of the trigger.

Only Mark’s words kept her scanning instead of killing.

Ko took a pained breath, just watching through his spotting goggles. Niemi knew he wanted to kill the bastards as badly as she did.

She glanced to Mark’s side, they were up on an abandoned floor of Mining City Twenty-One’s towers. They’d been watching Mark and the Chosen, and figuring out how to best mess up the Chosen’s defense. Mining City Twenty-One was the chosen’s biggest area of operations, and no one but Chosen lived in the city.