Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) (11 page)

              “No, no I didn’t,” Mark said. He tried to sound calm, but Tyler could read him better than that. Shock quickly became outrage.

              “Yeah, I know you better than Lucille and I thought that you should know,” Qi said.

              “She said that she couldn’t be away from me, that she needed time to sort her stuff…        well, that’s fast,” Mark said, as he covered over the pain he felt.

              “Yeah, they started dating a few weeks ago, sorry I’m the one telling you. I thought that someone should,” Qi said.

              “No, don’t worry about it, thanks for telling me. Better for me to know than run into it sometime,” Mark said, as he continued to conceal his pain.

              “Alright, well talk to you later,” Qi said.

              “See ya,” Mark said.

              Tyler stood up, and Mark stood as he grinded his teeth. He was angrier than Tyler had seen him in years.

              “Gym?” Tyler asked.

              “Gym,” Mark said with a straight face, and eyes that were usually turned towards their enemy. The look sent a chill down Tyler’s back.

              Mark didn’t trust many people, but those he did, he trusted wholly. He would do anything to protect or help them. Now Lucille had broken that trust. Tyler was scared to see what happen to Mark.

              He looked to Alexis, and her look told him everything.

             
Stay with him and make sure that he’s okay
, it seemed to say. While she and Tyler became close and intimate, Mark always treated Alexis like a little sister. She felt the same kind of sadness for Mark that Tyler felt.

              ***

              “Alright!” Mark said getting his section’s attention. “We’re gonna get our gear sorted out. Anyone have any issues?” People shook their heads, and Mark stood with his tray. “Then let’s be about it,” he said.

              Nerva made his announcement a week ago, and Mark wanted to get prepared for what was coming.

              He learned he could trust three things - the fact life would keep going, himself, and the troopers he trained with. He didn’t try to meet new people. He spent his time reading, and getting lost in histories about other religious crusades. This knowledge helped him find an edge on Harmony.

              He mourned for those they lost, the faces he would never see again. He buried that pain deeper, and used it as fuel to keep going and make sure that he lost less people. But he knew he would lose people. If he didn’t admit that, it could break him as a leader.

              His section followed, and headed out of the mess. They already left Earth behind, and started the one hundred and seventeen-day cycle for them to get up to full power. The solar sails unfurled, and ringed the carrier with their gossamer-looking brilliance. The engines would help them get to forty percent the speed of light. When the speed was acquired, it would cut off.

              Mark wasn’t focused on that. His mind was already turning to Masoul.

              “Did everyone look over the information on Masoul?” he asked, as he looked at the section.

              “Yeah, friggin heads killing me. Shouldn’t have had that tequila,” Dashtund said. He looked a bit rough, even with his detox. Mark grinned, and the others laughed as they got to the elevator. Mark passed out the schedule through the net.

              “We’re to check our gear, replace anything that needs it. I want to get some shooting in, and some physical training to get the kinks of last week out,” Mark said.

              Groans and complaints were muttered through the ranks.

              “I know, don’t worry, it won’t be anything like the training here. It’s just to make sure that we’re all good. Along that thought, we’re going to get physicals done as well.” Mark hoped no one heard the catch in his voice.

              The elevator stopped at the armories.

              “Then we’re doing rounds in the different simulated landscapes of Masoul, from Platoon level up to Regiment level,” Mark said. The section listened, but they also greeted their friends in the area.

              They came up to their armories, and walked up to the armorer’s desk.

              Mark passed his wrist over the scanning area. The screen changed, and a new screen lit up the armorer’s face.

              “This way,” the armorer said, as he took them to their rack. He unlocked it, and pulled it out on its runners.

              Everyone had a cubby that held all of their equipment - from armor, to fresh packs, repulsors and their E-12s. The AMR’s were back in storage.

              Tyler sighed as he pulled out his E-12.

              “You still have all of those attachments to make that a sniper anyway,” Mark said with a grin.

              “Yes, but this one doesn’t punch through armor like it’s paper,” Tyler complained.

              “And when in the hell did you hit paper? All I saw was headless tanks,” Haas said, as he joined the section.

              As the Platoon’s Warrant, he made sure the things in the background kept ticking.

              The Section greeted their old Sergeant in their various ways.

              “So what you doing down here? Missing us all?” Dashtund joked.

              “I’m here to talk to Tyler and some of you. Now we’re not on Earth, it makes sense to remake two-section. Tyler you’ll be in command, Smith from Jerome’s will be your second, Sal, Iliev, Obe and Ali will round you out. When we get more people from
Fearless,
then we’ll patch the holes in our structure. Orders have come from Earth. We’re to put our people in positions of strength. A sergeant from
Fearless
might be under a Master Corporal from
Reclaimer
. It’s going to make things interesting, so we best look to showing
why
we’re getting that honor.” Haas looked to them all, and it reminded Mark of when he was in command of the section.

              “When will I start working with my section?” Tyler asked.

              “No time like the present! Jerome should be down here shortly. When he gets down here, I want you to grab your new section mates and get all of your kit onto your rack,” Haas said.

              “Understood, Warrant,” Tyler said. He looked to the people who were being pulled into his section.

              “Alright, if you’re with me, grab your gear and get it to second sections rack. I’ll get it opened.” He made sure everyone acknowledged his order before he headed to the armorer.

              Mark wished they could just pull the racks out like they did when they were going to be dropped on the planet. When they were in-flight or training, they locked them up - probably to make sure no one got any really dumb ideas.

              They checked their armor and harnesses, and pulled their weapons apart. They made sure that the cleaning machine had done its job. There was always a spot of rust, or dry surface that needed lubricant on it.

              Target practice went well. Mark didn’t have to say anything to his people as Wen and Haas wandered around, and checked on everyone.

              Then, all of Alpha Companies’ second platoon went to get checked over medically.

              Mark forced his anxiousness down.

              He couldn’t stop thinking about how Lucille found someone else so fast, and how she didn’t just cut it off with him. She strung him along with the possibility that she might come back.

              He told her things that he didn’t share with anyone, and it left him vulnerable. Those vulnerabilities were tossed out the window, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

              “Please remove your shirt, and get under the scanner,” said one of the medics who tended Mark.

              Mark followed their instructions, and heard a sharp intake of air as the shadowing medic saw the number of scars from various burns, grenades, explosives weapon fire, blades and everything else that tried to kill Mark Victor.

              They hooked him up, ran tests, and checked with his augments.

              “Everything looks good. The rest of your section will be done shortly,” the medic said.

              Mark gave a terse nod, and muttered his thanks as he pulled on his shirt and walked out of the room.

              He looked up and saw a group of medics who glanced at him and talked.

              “
That’s
why you don’t fuck the monkeys,” one of them said, as he looked to Mark and gave him a disgusted look.

              It said Keller on his shirt.

              Mark’s right hand shot down and then out. A knife came out of the medic’s shoulder.

              That medic, who was talking shit, stared at his white robe turning red in shock. He screamed like was just disembowelled. Mark had heard it before.

              The others cried out in alarm as Mark walked over, and grabbed the blade.

              “You have something to say POT?” Mark asked, as his face got within inches from the medic’s. Veins bulged from his neck as he spat the acronym at the medic.

              “No, no, nothing at all!” they said, as their voice went high and tight.

              Mark grunted and pulled the blade out, and flicked it up into its holster.

              “Something the matter?” Haas asked, as he came around the corner.

              “Called us monkeys,” Mark said, as he walked past him and out of the medical ward.

              “I want to file a charge against that man!” yelled Keller, who was the one that had the knife buried in his arm.

              “You’re alive, aren’t you? I’d be thanking your lucky stars at this point,” Haas growled. “Get him fixed up, and mind that you don’t start talking about my troopers that way again. Maybe you should spend some time in the field working with us, instead of fucking around in your high tower!” Haas spat, and turned away from the medics.

              Mark found a place out of the medical ward, and leaned against the wall.

              “What’s up?” Haas asked.

              “Bit fucked up,” Mark said. He didn’t want to get into the acidic feelings that ran through his body and gut.

              “See, that anger is turned towards Harmony and the fuckers that want to turn Masoul into a bloodbath,” Haas said, his voice gentle despite his message.
Pull it the fuck together.

              “Yeah, got it, thanks,” Mark looked to Haas, as they locked eyes.

              Haas looked as if he was searching for something before he clapped a hand on Mark’s shoulder, and sighed.

              “We’ve got a couple of months to get ready for Masoul. Focus on that. Once we’re done with Masoul, we’ll go back to Earth and I’ll buy a round,” Haas said.

              “I’ll hold you to that, Warrant,” Mark said with a smile, even as his mind wondered if either of them would be alive by that time. Harmony didn’t look to be a pushover.

              Other Divisions worked tirelessly through the decks that were changed, according to Masoul’s refining and mining facilities. It was a cross-section of a station, and the underground towers on Masoul actual.

              Nerva had everyone go through the floors a number of times before he brought them in for lectures.

              Those that were part of his earlier Regiment were tirelessly questioned as to why they were going to a damned lecture instead of training.

              Now they would get their answer. The lecture halls were made like an old-fashioned stadium, and were primarily used by the training cadre when new recruits were brought onboard. Seats ringed around a central stage, and screens helped the people on the upper levels see the person who presented.

              “As you have all been learning over the past couple of days, Masoul and its various environments are rather confusing and annoying.” A mutter of agreement rose from the people in the seats.

              “In this class, we will look over the makeup of the stations, the basis of the refining facilities, as well as the underground tunnels.”

              Confused and annoyed whispers went through the crowd.

             
Why the hell were they learning about how something was built? All they needed to know was how to get close to the bastards, and make them ever regret falling out from between their momma’s legs!
Mark hid his grin, and remembered the long months that Jerome, Alexis, Tyler and he had spent with Nerva. Most people looked at a group’s tactics. That was good, but looking at their motivations - the thought process that brought them to those tactics - could make someone almost anticipate their enemies’ thoughts.

              Nerva cleared his throat, and the whispers died as a hologram of an odd looking upside down tower appeared.

              “To start, we will look at the towers on Masoul prime. Not only are they dug into the planet’s surface rather than on it because of the weather systems, they are also connected via tunnels across various levels. This means that people do not need to run across the surface. Knowing this maze of tunnels can get one from one side of the five cities to the other. Also the lower you are, the better respected you are, instead of up in all cities on the surface. While there are five cities on Masoul, they house more than twenty-one-million people. The CEOs live in the stations, and leave the people to care for their cities. It’s easier to dig where people already are, than move the equipment to a new site and start a city, or tower. Most towers are built as deep as possible before moving onto the next one. As one reaches a hundred stories, then the next one is started. They do not grow in tandem, and look to be shorter than the neighboring towers. Now while the further down the towers are, the more prestigious. At the bottom levels there are heat converters, exchangers, water processing centers and such. The towers use the planet’s natural heat to help power and heat the towers.” There were no whispers anymore as annotations filled the holographic representation of the tower.