Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (48 page)

           
Then the deep thuds of auto-turrets filled the air. The combat shuttles had been positioned with clear lines of sight through the factories Mark and the remainders of fourth regiment were holed up.

           
They’d used already made holes of entry, widened with the help of some natural force, that they would never tell anyone higher that they’d helped,
alter
Sacremons property.

           
Three shuttles stood to the rear of the factory, as the walls fell, their guns opened up, repulsors had heavy rounds and incredible rate of fire. Auto-turrets fired rounds four times bigger and with a hell of a lot more velocity. People disintegrated under repulsor fire, they
disappeared
if a round from an auto-turret hit them.

           
Mark didn’t realize when it happened and he released his trigger.

           
The colonists had stopped, along the factory walls weapons went silent and the combat shuttle’s weapons ground to a halt.

           
Fire could be heard in the distance, mortars still screamed through the air and the occasional missile lit up the sky which was quickly turning from day into night.

           
We’ve been fighting all day.
It seemed as if it had been just minutes since the battle started, but it also felt like it had taken months.

           
“Shit, you think we did it?’ Jerome asked.

           
“I don’t know, I hope so,” Tyler said, sounding as tired as Mark felt.

           
“Only district three and five were overrun, Divisions are being moved to reinforce them,” Sergeant Don said.

           
“Then we know who they’re going to send in there to find out if all the colonists are dead or not,” Jerome said with a sour note to his voice.

           
Sergeant Don didn’t try to rebuff him; they all knew it was true.

Chapter 21

           
Processing City

           
Sacremon Actual, Sacremon System

           
4/3173

           
Mark sunk onto a desk heavily, it made noise but held together. He pulled his helmet off, looking over the massive elevators that went from the bottom of the tower to the different warehouse levels and onto the landing pads of the roof.

           
His eyes drifted to the hole in the tower which had once housed a gun emplacement.

           
Tyler sank on to his own desk, Mark reached into his armor, pulling out three tubes. He held one out to Tyler who took it with a confused look.

           
He tossed one to Jerome who took it with a nod of thanks.

           
“What is it,” Tyler asked, looking at the tube.

           
“Cohelans cigars,” Mark said, seeing memories flicker behind Tyler’s eyes as he pushed one end of the tube off with his thumb and extracted the cigar that was inside.

           
Mark did the same, flicking a blade down to use it to cut the tips. Tyler followed suit as Jerome used hit teeth to do the job and was in the process of puffing his cigar into life.

           
Mark took his time lighting his, taking a good puff before tossing the lighter to Tyler.

           
Troopers sat or lay on every surface of the towers levels. There was thirteen thousand of them. There was another three thousand getting medical aid up on Reclaimer. Nearly one-hundred-thousand troopers and support personnel had lost their lives on Sacremon.

           
Mark cast his eye to the ruins of Processing City. The grey cleaners moved throughout, collecting casings, weapons, armor and smart clothes.

           
The higher ups tried to get the troopers out of the area when the cleaners came through after a battle. They stripped troopers of everything on them. It was all owned by the EMF, they were just collecting gear that they could use on a later campaign.

           
It made sense in a cold sort of way. Mark just watched with bleak eyes as those machines moved from corpse to corpse, stripping them of anything that would identify them.

           
“Fucking cleaners,” Mark spat.

           
Those around them nodded.

           
Alexis found her way over to them, her friend Pablo from basic had died in some manner. Only forty-three of the three hundred recruits had survived past being boots.

           
On your first drop you land on a planet that even the veterans call one of the worst bloodbaths ever.

           
He shifted on the desk so he was laying on it with his ammunition pack propped against a wall.

           
“So what are you going to do when we get back to Earth?” Alexis asked, looking to the others.

           
Jerome shrugged, he had worked at the docks but it had been the only way he could make enough credits to survive. He had no attachments to the place and he didn’t have anything like a family back there.

           
“We’re going to go to Westerly Complex,” Mark said, looking to Jerome, advancing the invitation.

           
Jerome gave a terse nod of awkward appreciation before looking away. Mark could see the signs of emotion seeping into his eyes before he his face.

           
“How about you?” Tyler asked.

           
“I don’t know, if my information was good enough then Hell’s own is gone,” Alexis shrugged.

           
“Come with us,” Tyler offered.

           
“You sure?”

           
“Yeah, no one fucks with a trooper on leave anyway,” Tyler said, his expression turning dark at the thought of anyone attacking any one of the troopers he had just fought beside.

           
“I heard that we’re going to get a big bonus for this one,” Alexis said, probably trying to steer their minds away from their grim thoughts.

           
“Yeah, three times the pay, plus it looks like we’re going to become the EMF’s new trouble-shooter carrier. After some leave we’re going to be training like dogs. Higher ups want everyone to be like Alpha Company. Cost benefit ratio exercise I heard them saying,” Jerome said.

           
Mark wondered how the man was able to gather so much information but being in the docks for so long he had probably heard more than one rumor, or dug it up. His skills had gone to work with the various information channels within the EMF.

           
“That’s good right? We’re going to use a few years of our contract up without being in some kind of battle like this,” she said, her hand indicating Sacremon.

           
“Yeah,” Tyler said smoking his cigar.

           
“Where do you think they’re going to put their best trained and equipped carrier?” Jerome said, heat entering his voice as anger made him chew on the end of his cigar. “Right in the fucking middle of the biggest and worst rebellions.” He pulled the cigar from his mouth and spat out the chewed cigar that had filled his mouth.

           
Mark puffed on his cigar in the new silence.

           
“You think that’s true?” Someone that had overheard them asked, looking to them.

           
“Why not? We’re just cogs,” Jerome said using a term that only older troopers used now. “There’s plenty of us. They’re only looking for some magical formula that will give them the best fighting force for the lowest cost. Look down there, they’re going to strip our people of everything they’re wearing but not take their bodies home because moving bodies is probably inefficient in their minds.” Jerome stood and walked away, his face dark.

           
The room was quiet with Jerome’s outburst.

           
“Fuck cost-benefit ratios, fuck these colonist pricks and fuck anyone that thinks they can beat us. We might die before thirty-five years of service, we might be left on a planet we weren’t born on, but we, we the troopers will know, we’ll remember and we’ll make anyone that thinks of rebelling so goddamn fucking scared that even thinking about it will make them piss themselves,” Mark said, his voice deadly with the acid tang of resolution.

           
Hardened faces nodded, turning from confusion and fear for the future into resolution.

           
Mark got off of the table and headed for Jerome.

           
He found him looking out of a hole carved into the side of the tower, just staring over the planet blankly.

           
Mark left his helmet next to Jerome’s as he walked up, looking at the ruins of processing city.

           
“What now?” Jerome asked.

           
“We go home,” Mark said in a solemn voice.

           
“And what about when we get called to go serve again?” Jerome asked.

           
“Then we train, and we make the bastards that meet us regret ever even thinking of rebellion,” Mark said, his voice catching with a heated edge.

           
Jerome nodded and the two of them smoked their cigars until their implants alerted them that their shuttle had arrived.

           
They didn’t say anything as they flowed with other units up to the landing pads. They dropped their cigars into their holding tubes and walked up the ramp. Mark looked back seeing the planet through the windows of the tower.

           
He brought his helmet over his head and walked to Tyler who had already found a seat in the shuttle.

           
“Goodbye Sacremon,” Tyler sing-songed, his voice tired as he sat back in his seat.

           
Mark let the shuttles movements send him to sleep.

           
He awoke on Reclaimer, the lack of movement making him blink with bleary eyes.

           
They walked off of the combat shuttle, the carrier looked pristine with it’s unmarred metal and rows of shuttles.

           
They walked to the armories, returning the weapons that had become part of their person for the last twelve months.

           
He unloaded and pulled his mag pouches off, tossing them into the right chutes to be sorted.

           
He checked his weapon and put it into his rack with care. He did the same with his pistol, moving to the second part of the armories that held armor.

           
Everyone helped one another get off their armor.

           
It felt odd removing the plates. Mark, like the rest of the troopers felt practically naked without that layer of protection.

           
Officers and veterans guided them to the medical bays to make sure that no injuries had been missed.

           
Everyone was bone weary and no one was up for shouting out orders.

           
Mark walked into a curtained off room.

           
Lucille, the implanter who had put at least three augments into his body came in.

           
“Hey!” She said with a bright smile.

           
“Hey,” Mark answered, his dull eyes finding her. Their was a brief flash of recognition marred by dark green eyes of someone that had aged years in only months.

           
She bit her lip, something flicking behind her eyes. Mark didn’t pay it attention, he wanted to shower and go to sleep.

           
She looked over information on a data slate, scrolling through a mess of information.

           
“I’m going to run some scans and if everything’s good then you’ll be free to go,” she said, something like concern in her eyes.

           
“Alright,” Mark replied, the word like the sigh of a tree falling.

           
She ran a scanner over him, watching her data slate as she did so.

           
“Okay it looks like most of your injuries are healed or on their way to recovering. I’m going to give you a few boosters to help that along. I’m also picking up a decent amount of scarring. I can remove that as well,” she said moving to the curtain to go and grab the necessary supplies.

           
“I’ll keep them,” Mark said.