Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (19 page)

           
Mark remembered his training, and Gupta’s reminders when they'd got into their armor.

            “Be a goddamned fish, limp and useless, you don’t and the trap doors will take your arm, leg or whatever stupid appendage you put in the way. Got it?” Gupta said eyeing them as they yelled their agreement.

           
Mark had done simulated drops before but it was still terrifying. He let his body go limp, pointing his legs, when he hit he was as limp as a dead fish, the line ejected itself from the ship as soon as he landed, apparently the combat shuttle crew didn't want to wait around.

           
The last person touched down, their line clearing the combat shuttle's doors and the combat shuttle rose straight up. In the entire seven-minute drop the simulated combat shuttle had only gone down about forty feet and dropped the troopers another thirty.

           
“Move it troopers!” Pullo barked.

Mark slapped his harness, its explosive bolts separated it from his armor, falling off of him as he grabbed his repulsor, throwing its sling around his shoulders and powering up his belt at the same time to start feeding rounds into the gun's chamber.

           
He pulled the bolt, ejecting a round but making sure that the weapon was actually working, his feet pumping as Gupta waved for him to hurry the fuck up.

           
Oxygen pumped through Mark's mouth piece, his battle hormones weren't even needed to keep him alert.

           
He ran after his section, the others were getting shaken into formation following three section, they were back, to the right and left of three.

           
The city they were advancing on was the same design as every colony city. The first mega tower stood at the center, the other towers becoming shorter as they spiralled around that central tower. As time passed the swirl would get larger, and the modular towers would grow horizontally and vertically into mega towers.

           
It was cost efficient and showed the corporations power by putting them directly into center of the city in the largest building. Perfect for corporate Earth and her Colonies.

           
The towers were metals, glass and grey cermite super structures capable of being kilometers tall.

           
Weapon fire went off as the group in the towers opened fire.

           
It was the oddest thing because the glass didn't disintegrate or even have holes appear in it. This simulated area was supposed to be used again and again so it made sense that everything wouldn't be destroyed every-time a new group used it to train.

           
While the rounds weren't real, and nothing actually flew out of their barrels other than hot gasses, this was the closest someone could get to real-life.

           
“Get some damned cover,” Pullo yelled, switching to a different channel. Mark jumped for the nearest rise on what looked like grassy plains.

           
He fell on his back, keeping his weapon safe. He rolled, pulling the bipod out from the handguard, it sprung out and he braced the repulsor’s buttstock.

           
“Closest tower one o’clock, third floor. Fuck them up,” Gupta yelled.

           
The others in the section were laying fire into the building, the two following sections were pushing for better cover and trying to advance. Mark didn't think about that as he sighted his repulsor on the building, bracing the weapon as he let a stream of rounds fly.

           
“Good effect on target, keep those bastards down,” Gupta said.

           
“Alright we're going to keep them down and report on the enemy as the other sections move up along a ridge to our right.”

           
Mark had seen the 'ridge', it was little more than a depression in the ground.

           
Going to need some damned good covering fire.
Was Mark's only thought, he was one of the two main people that was going to be able to get them close to the target.

           
The E-12 was a great gun, but repulsor’s had the firepower and heavier round that would make any sane person duck.

           
“We're going to move in half section to get closer and make them pay more attention to us,” Pullo said. “My Section, prepare to move, move.”

Xiao and Pullo's six-man half-section moved up a few feet and slammed back down into the ground. Mark and the people with him kept firing in controlled bursts to keep the enemies’ heads down. Not many were risking looking out into the maelstrom of rounds hammering their tower.

           
Pullo didn't need to say when he was covering, his half's weapons did that job.

           
“My half, move,” Gupta yelled, waving his half forward. People rose and moved as Gupta fell.

           
“Man down,” Utkin yelled.

           
Mark moved to help automatically.

           
“Get that gun working, I've got him!” Utkin yelled, his voice reproving as Mark continued running forward.

           
Come on Mark, head in the fucking game.

           
“Got a sniper somewhere in the second building one row back to the right,” Tyler called out.

           
“Simmons take over for Gupta,” Pullo yelled.

           
“Gupta took a round in the neck,” Utkin said.

           
Whoever hit him is good, I wonder if they did it because he was waving people on. If it was, that's even more impressive.
None of Mark's thoughts made him any happier as he and Xiao were see sawing, one of them shooting a burst then the other.

           
There hadn't been a need to communicate as Xiao had started doing it to Mark's random bursts. Now with a few moments to understand what was going on, Mark was getting into the unspoken rhythm.

           
“Utkin, get up here, relaying to higher, Simmons take over.”

           
“Sarge,” Simmons said, confirming she'd heard him.

           
“Dolche, Jaol, Garcia, get some fire on that second building, Xiao be ready to add the pressure if needed. Tyler, find me that fucking bastard!” Pullo ordered.

           
“You got it,” Tyler said, his voice serene and concentrated.

           
Utkin finally made it next to Mark.

           
“Ammo?” He asked through his helmet's speakers, so he didn't need to disrupt the main channel.

           
“Decent, down a box,” Mark said.

           
“Good stuff. I have Gupta’s and my own ammo, might as well fill up,” Utkin said, chucking a box over to Mark.

           
“Cross loading ammo,” Mark said, on his section’s channel.

           
“Understood,” Xiao answered, his gun adding to his words as he picked up his rate of fire.

           
Mark grabbed the ammo box, it was simple grey with a belt on the top of it like the one snaking from his ammunition reservoir on his back, he hooked the belt into a flap on the reservoir, his ammunition counter rolling upwards on his visor.

           
“Back in,” Mark said, letting the ammunition can drain itself as he fired his gun. Xiao's fire slackened.

           
“Two-one and two-two are moving into position for the final stretch of dead ground,” Pullo said, referring to second platoon one and two section that had moved up through the small ditch.

           
Jaol's suit redlined on the small display in the top left of Mark's HUD.

           
“Jaol's down, got hit in the head, he's a bit fucked up but I think I can move him if I need to,” Dolche called out.

           
“Got that sniper. I'm seeing movement on the ground, it looks like forces are pulling back from the first tower into the second row of towers.” Tyler's adapted E-12 could be heard barking as he talked.

           
“Six made it to the second tower, marking.” A symbol appeared on their HUD, showing where the under-strength section had fled to.

           
An odd noise screeched through the weapons fire.

           
“Artillery!” Simmons yelled.

           
“Move to tower at our two o’clock, three hundred meters, move and shoot!” Pullo said.

           
Staying out in the open with their positions probably already zeroed in by the dickheads in the tower was a losing proposition.

           
Mark stood, grabbing his repulsor’s carry handle, his HUD showed where it was aiming. He let out a stream of rounds as he started running for all he was worth. The gun jumped spraying rounds all over the place but all of the remaining section was firing, caring little for ammo conservation.

           
Mark glanced to his HUD, seeing Utkin was about twenty meters behind him.

           
“I want effective rounds on target, cover and move!” Pullo yelled.

           
Mark dove onto the ground, he flipped his gun, putting rounds into the newly marked building which the other sections had reported shots coming from. His gun hammered out more fire.

           
A simulated explosion went off, the ground shaking with from the impact. The noise was loud enough to make Mark's helmet dial down the audio intake, but no dirt flew into the air and there was no crater in the ground.

           
Mark looked back to where they had run from. He saw his brother stop and turn.

           
“Guess I'm hit.” Garcia sounded none too pleased with that.

           
“I've got Garcia,” Tyler said, slinging his rifle. “Put your leg out.” Garcia did so hesitantly. Mark grinned as he fired on his new target building.

           
The boss had shown Tyler and Mark the fastest way to get people out of the battlefield if they were wounded.

           
Grab the wounded person’s leg, drop your shoulder into their gut, using your momentum to get to your knees and run.

           
It was the fastest way to get someone on your back and get moving again.

           
Mark saw the other two sections were now booking it for the first building. Indirect fire wouldn't get them in the towers, the things were built to last for damned centuries.

           
“The other sections will cover us while we get into the first building. Tyler keep moving with Garcia to the ditch,” Pullo called out.

           
Mark pushed the casings that were falling out of his repulsor out of the way between bouts of firing.

           
“My half section will move through Simmons to the ditch at our eleven o’clock, fifty meters, in bounds. Moving,” Pullo said, exhaling the final word as he stood.

           
The same odd screeching of artillery could be heard.

           
Whizz-cracks of overhead made the entire section dive for the ground

           
Here they were bright flashes and the holographic ground shifted from green to black, simulating impacts. There was no way to simulate the hole it would leave, or the cone of shrapnel it left in its wake.

           
If anyone was said to be ‘dead’ or ‘wounded’ they laid down on the ground, just like training.

           
Xiao's fire team went down under fire, leaving just Pullo, and Dolche who was mostly carrying Jaol in their half section.

           
“Book it to the tower and zig zag!” Pullo yelled.

           
Mark was already running; he was catching up with Tyler quickly.

           
Utkin and Simmons were close behind.

           
Mark had forgotten about the extra ammunition can as it flew off, empty as Earth's oceans.

           
Mark ran passed Tyler and kept going till he reached the ditch.

           
He flipped his repulsor, sliding into the small ditch as he activated his augments.

           
He flipped over, slamming his bipod into the ditch's rise. He pulled the trigger, raking the enemy which were taking pot-shots.

           
Simmons went down with a grunt.

           
“Utkin, Simmons,” Mark barked.

           
“Got it, cover me damnit!”

            “
I got you man,” Mark said, his gun raked across the unsuspecting enemy sections.

           
It seems like it was a platoon not just a section. Thankfully they can't hear shit over their own incoming fire.
Mark's grin was dark as people fell in those towers.

           
He tapped a command in his glove, indicating enemy forces everywhere he saw them.

           
Tyler crashed through the ditch, looking like he was gonna stop.

           
“Keep moving, get him inside. I'll cover the other two,” Mark said, not even looking up as he shifted his body, the spent cases of the repulsor jangling against his body as he fired again.

           
Tyler grunted and kept going.

           
Utkin was dragging Simmons who was spraying into the windows.

           
“Dry!” She ejected her old mag, slapping in a new one, she fired off a few grenade rounds into the building, more people dropped.

           
Mark slung his repulsor and ran out to them.

           
“I got her, arm up Simmons.” She did so, Utkin covered them. Mark grabbed her arm, using the same rolling technique as Tyler.

He grunted with the extra weight, grabbing his repulsor with one hand and started running for the tower.

           
Utkin popped off grenades at the upper floors with his under-barrel launcher.

           
Tyler had reached the building, the sections that had made it there first were pulling Garcia into cover, they had the medics with them.

           
Mark saw a flash on the floor above, rounds started coming down around him and Utkin.

           
“Hold on,” Mark said. Simmons arms around Mark's left shoulder tightened as he grabbed his repulsor's trigger, his fire wasn't aimed, but it got whoever was still in the upper part of the tower to get their damned head down long enough for Mark, Simmons and Utkin to make it to relative safety.

           
Mark's helmet was going at full tilt to supply him with oxygen.

           
Someone helped to get Simmons off of his back, the second medic attended to her, she had apparently caught a round to the leg.

           
With some painkillers and a splint, she would be able to keep fighting while what they injected knitted her body back together.

           
Tyler came over to Mark one wrist extended, they tapped and slammed into one another's shoulder, hard. Mark laughed, relief flowing over his body as he checked his weapon.

           
Dolche, Pullo and Jaol slammed into the wall through the doorway, right next to Tyler and Mark.

           
They helped get Jaol and Dolche untangled as the two of them caught their breath from their much longer run.

           
“How's that gun Mark?” Pullo asked.

           
“She looks good, low on ammo though.”

           
“Well that's why I'm here,” Utkin said, pulling a can from his back and tossing it to Mark. He caught it with one arm and his body, he let his weapon dangle and tried to attach it to his pack.

           
“Here, let me,” Dolche said, taking the belt feeder and slapping it into place.

           
“Thanks,” Mark said tentatively, a bit unsure of Dolche still.

           
“Don't worry about it.” Dolche still didn't sound like he was too happy himself.

           
But hopefully, just hopefully we can put that bullshit night behind us.
Mark thought.

           
An officer marched into the room, his silver star showing all that he was a second lieutenant. He took a scan of the room, finding Pullo and moving to him.

           
“Good work Sergeant, your section did damned well. My people are clearing this building and we should be ready to move onto the other building your people tagged with hostiles soon enough.” The officer's words were punctuated with more incoming rounds.

           
“Get away from the doors and windows!” He barked.

           
“Grab the casualties and move them further into the building!” Pullo said as the ground started shaking from rounds that found their mark.

           
The officer turned his head as if to listen to something.

           
“Fuck, look after the people down here Sergeant, I'm needed upstairs.”

           
“Yes sir.” He turned to everyone else, “You heard the Lieutenant, get these casualties moved into the tower’s operations center.” Everyone grabbed a patient, shifting them as medics ran around, grabbing gear and moving ahead of them to get setup. They had all been in these identical towers on a number of planets, so much so that they were like a second home.

           
The operations center was located on the tower’s first floor. It was the control center for the entire tower.

           
An area was cleared in the middle of the cubicles, the medics descended on their patients once again.

           
“Mark get out in the Lobby and make sure no one gets in through there, Dolche west side, Utkin East, I'll take the South where we just came in. Tyler get your ass out in the Lobby too, I want you to make sure that they remember we're still in here.” Pullo yelled.

           
“Yes Sarge.” Tyler's visor hid his expression but from the jaunty way he held his rifle aloft and his voice, he was grinning, it was a simulation after all.

           
Mark pulled the ammunition can from his pack. It had drained itself and put him at about the three hundred thousand mark.

           
He hefted his gun and moved towards the main lobby.

           
The lobby was shaped like a half moon, on either rounded side there were greeting desks, in the center there was the main desk, between them were open areas which led to the lines of elevators that would take people to their living quarters. Twin stairs curved down into the lobby that would take people to the floor above and to the elevators that were designated workspaces.

           
Mark was nestled to the right of the main doors, peeking out of the lobby desk. Tyler jogged up the stairs to the second floor using the large three story windows he ducked into an office. He moved a work table into the hallway, taking off his backpack, using it as a rest for his E-12.

           
Mark had spent his time watching the enemies building, using the zoom feature on his goggles to get a closer look on any movement he saw.

           
“You ready yet?” Mark asked.

           
“Just about, you able to see anything?”

           
“I think they're mostly on the third floor, probably thinking about bugging out if they need to. They're about four offices in from the left, a light blue looking one.”

           
“Mhmm,” Tyler said, concentrated and taking in the information.

           
There were a few quiet minutes before the E-12 barked, pausing for just a few moments and firing again, then again. Five rounds rang out before Mark heard Tyler moving.

           
“This rifle is going to make me lazy, auto-range finder, shows me the data on the environment and the rounds charge is so high that it would take some damned far ranges before the round starts dropping,” Tyler said as he moved through another office, sighting a new position, laying down his bag and nestling behind his gun.

           
“Show off. I've got people on the fourth floor running about,” Mark said.

           
“Got them.” Tyler's gun barked twice before he was moving again.

           
“Seems they're getting a bit wary of the windows now.”

           
“I wonder why,” Tyler said dryly.

           
Mark looked at the enemy combatants, they were dragging themselves or crying out for help, except for the second lieutenant that had two rounds through his re-breather, his HUD reported all of this in quick succession.

           
Tyler had turned them into walking wounded, meaning they were pretty useless in a fight, but their comrades would need to help them out for the duration of the simulation.

           
“I hope I'm hearing good things,” Pullo asked over the communications channel.

           
“Tyler's fucking with the enemy, four wounded, one El-Tee dead,” Mark answered.

           
“Good job, keep it...” Pullo's sentence died in his throat. “I'm getting markers showing the enemy moving to you Dolche. Mark, get over there and help him out.”

           
Mark grabbed his gun and got moving, the same markers Pullo was seeing now populating his HUD.

           
He ran for Dolche's position that was highlighted on his HUD's map.

           
He crashed through a room, seeing the tail end of a section his augment dumped adrenaline right into his bloodstream, he steadied his repulsor and squeezed the trigger, the repulsor buzzed and rounds fell as Mark drew a line through the stragglers. Three went down, including one of the section's repulsor gunners.

           
He withdrew from the room, holding his gun ready instead of just carrying it by the handle.

           
Rounds sounded as if they were flying into the room while he ran on.

           
“Under fire,” Dolche reported. Mark could now hear Dolche's torrent of fire added into the melee.

           
Grenade launchers made Mark lurch in an attempt to stay upright.

           
“Fuckers!” Dolche said, replying with his own grenade launcher.

           
Mark saw that going into the room Dolche was covering would put him right in the line of fire, he turned, heading for an emergency exit. He barrelled through it, his repulsor came up and fired a stream of rounds through the section. They'd bunched up on the wall covered from Dolche's attacks and from anyone that might shoot down from above.

           
Making them a nice packed target for Mark.

           
Seven were left alive of the twelve-person section. Four were left after Mark's burst.

           
He dove on the ground, grunting with the pain that came with falling on cermite.

           
He didn't have time to think of that as he flipped his gun and fired at the section. They were using potted plants, like those Mark had seen around the citadel, for cover.

           
He kept firing keeping their heads down.

           
“I'll swing in behind them,” Dolche said, almost forgotten.

           
“There's one waiting to the left of the door,” Mark said gritting his teeth as a round hit his left arm, thankfully he didn't need it since the bipod was taking the majority of the recoil.