Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (35 page)

           
He let another burst go down the rest of the wall. Gupta followed up with a grenade, opening the hall up to show the section of colonists that had been hiding behind it. Mark tried to not look at them, seeing the people that he had killed would just add to the nightmares he already had from the slums.

Dolche opened up on Colonists trying to flee Pullo and Nerva's sections of troopers pushing them back.

           
Jerome opened up with Abdul and Dalha supporting them. Mark wanted to look behind but he knew that would be a mistake.

           
Explosions ripped into the elevator, Mark sent a burst at where the fire had come from, it quickly fell away.

           
Eyes front, you keep them covered and they'll cover you.
Mark thought, focusing on his side. The kind of trust it took to put his life completely in another’s was something else. Before this he would have only trusted Tyler and a handful of people from W3C, now he would trust nearly every trooper to do their job while he did his.

           
Troopers moved up to their position, reinforcing them.

           
Pullo and his section reached them first, Captain Nerva's section pushed through the defenders.

           
"Jerome, Mark, switch out with my gunners their low on rounds, Mark get down there, my half section move up, Nigam follow with your half and Jerome,” Nerva said.

           
"Sir,” Master Corporal Nigam said.

           
Mark didn't need to be told twice he got up, took a few steps back and then ran forward, dropping into a slide down the tables which had been turned into a ramp. He checked around him as he fell down. He fired a burst at some colonists that had showed their faces.

           
"Grenades to the right two offices back!" Mark yelled, the second man firing grenades at the location.

           
"Good shot,” Mark said, standing and scanning

           
"Thank you Mark,” Nerva said dryly.

           
Most would have felt a cold shiver run down their back at the Captain's words, Mark was getting used to the old man and let out a laugh. He was still pissed about how Alpha company had been running around when they could have been supporting the cobbled together company that had been holding the tower. That said he understood it and if it paid off then the city would be theirs in a few days.

           
Enough of that shit, focus and clear out this tower, get Tyler up and take a damned nap.
He thought, not even letting his brain think of the possibility that he could die in the next few seconds. That's how hard men were brave in the face of impossible odds, they lied to themselves and one another. There was always the possibility that they could get out of anything alive, admitting that they couldn't would defeat them as bad as the enemy overrunning them.

           
He understood it could happen to him but he wasn't planning on it, or letting them take him out easily.

           
"Mark swing right, Nigam take yours left, move out,” Nerva said his voice crisp and calm as Mark heaved his repulsor along where it should be aiming, he walked down the centre of the hallway, troopers on either side covering down the length of the corridor.

           
Mark saw a grenade bounce off the wall to his left, coming right at him. The colonists had grabbed a Troopers grenade and figured out how to arm it.

           
Mark moved to the side and swung his repulsor as hard as he could, connecting with the grenade and sending it right down the corridor. He fired a burst at the wall it had been thrown from and it went off.

           
The standard grenade in the EMF was a small item about the size of an unaltered apple. It was packed with the most cost efficient explosive that the CEO's could come up with. They had found that more was better than less, like with the E-12 and repulsor rounds. This meant that a small grenade packed one hell of a punch and sent out crap that covered the floor in every direction.

           
Mark was thankfully facing the explosion; his plates took most of the damage but bits got through gaps.

           
Mark looked up in confusion wondering how he was on the floor.

           
Shit, my helmet's visor is cracked again.
He was able to flip his gun and shoot from where he lay. E-12's were already firing their grenades and those that had been to either side of Mark were now pressing forward with angered ferocity.

           
A medic rushed up to his side, someone else helping to get Mark into an empty office.

           
Needles darted into his thigh, a spray dousing the different opened areas between armor. Mark caught enough letters still on the medic’s name tape. Their was armor covered in blood and showing hasty repairs like his own.

           
"Fuck Ferguson, you love those damned fucking needles!" He complained, looking up to the sky.

           
"Well you like to get yourself in a lot of shit, nice hit with the grenade though.”

           
"Didn't get much with it,” Mark said, pissed that they had got their hands on EMF hardware.

           
E-12's ripped through the wall, telling him that the grenades weren't the only thing the colonists were finding and using from the fallen troopers on the floor.

           
"Got to get going,” Mark said, the augments dulling the pain as he checked his weapon and struggled to his feet. Ferguson helped him to his feet, his partner was checking down the corridor. The medic was one of the most important people, if not
the
most important person to any group of troopers.

           
"Thanks,” Mark said.

           
"No worries, come see me when we're done this, that's going to need some more work. I'm only letting you go because those damned augments will keep you alive better than your own actions,” Ferguson said to Marks back as he cocked his repulsor and moved into the hallway.

           
"Back in Captain,” Mark said over the section's channel. There were a few laughs and chuckles.

           
"Well seems that the devil doesn't even want to claim you, up at the front Mark!" Nerva said. People moved out of the way, they had pushed up and were now engaged with the enemy hiding in an office room.

           
Mark checked his implants, squaring himself off with the office room, leaning out and firing a burst into it. He shifted fire, bringing it across the room. His weapon clicked.

           
"Jam!" He said, running to the other side, the colonists fired off a grenade launcher, putting a hole through a wall. Mark ran to the other side of the corridor, yanking on his charging handle that didn't seem like it wanted to come free.

           
One of the Troopers returned the Colonists fire with a grenade of their own. The difference was that they had trained with these weapons and had come to care for them more than a lover over the past two weeks. The grenade sailed through the doorway, exploding inside.

           
Mark pulled out his ammunition feed belt, it looked good after a cursory glance, he told it to feed through his implants and rounds fell out. He stopped it and looked to the gun, there was a damned round all bent to shit in his weapon.

           
Of all the fucking times!
He unslung it, and put its butt on the ground and pointed the barrel away.

           
He slammed his boot into the charging handle, it didn't budge the first time, the second time it racked backwards, a round spinning out. The charging handle had been left in the weapon for just this very reason. Mark opened the feed up on the gun, clearing it of crap with a coupled quick brushes of his hand. He slapped it back together, connected the ammunition belt which poured rounds into the gun. He pointed through the wall and pulled the trigger, the repulsor responded by sending a stream through the wall.

           
 He slapped his sling back over his shoulder.

           
"Hold here, the rest of the regiment are running through the third floor,” Nerva said, physically putting out his arm to stop people moving forward.

           
Mark turned his gun over, putting the bipod down and making sure his belt wouldn't get caught on anything. Troopers moved to cover different entry points, Ferguson was moved back a bit and more troopers moved down from the fifth floor to reinforce them.

           
Dolche took the other side of the corridor.

           
"Good to see you again Mark,” Dolche said as he got into position.

           
"Same for you, how's the hand?"

           
"Hmm, kind of odd, can't feel a damn thing for some reason,” Dolche said, waving it around.

           
Mark laughed at Dolche's antics. A colonist entered the corridor, both of them fired, the laugher died on Mark's lips as they turned to red mist and fell to the ground.

           
Those that had been behind the deceased colonist hesitated for a while. Finally, they broke their nerve and started firing explosives at the troopers with some confiscated E-12 mounted launchers and some weapons from their own side. They pressed forward with a renewed fury. The troopers fired back with controlled destructive force.

           
 “Dolche hit the corner, Mark fire along the length, Aliyeva, Chi, grenades in the wall Mark is firing at. Nigam take half the section, clear from here to the other section, I want you on roving security ready to hit anything that makes it through,” Nerva said, popping off his grenades with quick precise shots.

           
"Sir,” Nigam answered.

           
The Colonists had no choice but to pull back or be killed, their guns going silent as the half-section moved out.

           
Mark could hear and feel the fighting below him now. He kept moving his helmet trying to see out of it better, the cracked pattern made visibility a bitch. Thankfully the electronic functions of the HUD worked.

           
The colonists came around a corner in a hail of rounds. Mark pointed and fired in their direction, after a few minutes his, Dolche's, and the half-sections fire slowed again.

           
It kept going like that, someone would run into the repulsors sights, or try to take them. Chi took a couple of hits but Ferguson had her back on her feet in a few minutes. Weapons fire came closer and moved around underneath them.

           
Then suddenly it seemed as if the walls were pouring out colonists. Mark fired, pulling his helmet off so he could see better, he continued firing until his weapon clicked empty. He smacked his pack release and pulled the pistol from his holster.

           
He had trained with a pistol identical to this one in W3C, he had only checked it out at the range a few times but it had been enough for him to see that switching from his old pistol to the new one wasn't going to be very hard.

           
He fired with one hand, grabbing a magazine with the other. As soon as he ran out he slapped in a new mag.

           
Dolche ran out of ammunition and the Colonists pushed harder. They were too close to use their weapons and charged the troopers. Mark stood, firing his pistol with his right, his left hand coming out to his side, his blade appearing in his hand, which then appeared into a colonist's neck. He continued shooting at point blank range, using his blade with devastating effect. He slapped the pistol into its holster, his other blade snaking into his hand.

           
Augments went full tilt and he dove into the colonists. The troopers were down to hand-to-hand. The colonists had lived in the growing towers, field, and processing centers across the planet.

The troopers had been born fighting on Earth, fighting to survive for every second, with everything they had. It was a slaughter, this was many of the colonists first fight against an enemy where they were breathing the same air. In slums, well that was a daily occurrence and twice on Sunday. Blades, melee weapons and armored fists smashed into the colonists and their advance halted.

Now the colonists were in the trooper’s playground.

           
Mark drove his knife through one's neck and up into their brain, his other blade cutting an arm that was raising a rifle and coming back to jab out into their temple. Mark's first victim fell as he kicked out another attacker's knee, his elbow found their face. That same hand drove through another's chest, his blade finding their heart, he kicked them away from him as they gazed down hopelessly at the fatal wound.

           
"Well come the fuck on you mother fuckers.” Mark slashed, punched and moved through the attackers. The other troopers fought taking down the amateur but frantic attackers as fast as possible. That frantic energy made them a bigger pain in the ass, but still unbloodied and new to close combat.