Osdal (Harmony War Series Book 3) (40 page)

In the long corridor it was a bloodbath.

They didn’t have time to sit around hitting their objectives was more important than killing the Chosen right now.

Hama and Dooks finished their labor and they filed back into the conveyor belt areas.

“We’re grouping together and hitting central tower, the hope is that we can get control of the computer systems and control the rest of the city,” Mark said.

If you could get to a tower you could control it, and only it. If you got to the central tower of a city, you could control the entire thing. The lockouts were on the first floor, right in the middle of hundreds of Chosen that used the central tower as their barracks, and were trying to kill the Troopers above.

Well, shit.

***

Mark’s three platoon were to the rear, two was ahead, and one platoon was up in front. All of them were running full out along the platforms.

The first PACs made it into the conveyor area behind the Troopers. Mark didn’t need to say anything, Jaz’s three section turned and fired on them.

“Covering!” Dominguez yelled out as her section fired past Jaz’s section.

Hama’s fourth planted, three section running past them and giving them clear sight.

“Covering!” Hama barked, his section firing.

“Moving!” Dominguez said, her section running back. So it went, the sections covering one another and running, their fire keeping the PACs back.

Most of the PACs still not used to being affected in their powered armor ran into the fire, and were getting cut down. They were learning though, and too fast for Mark’s liking.

“Two platoon is making entry,” Mark called out, passing information to his Troopers.

“Keep moving and keep that fire up,” Kumer added.

It was a slow process, pulling back and keeping the pressure up on the PACs. They were firing their metal storm rifles, but they didn’t have the power to get through the Troopers’ additional armor.

Mark could see that they were already under contact, and even the lower areas of the building were a hectic mess of Chosen.

“Any combat shuttle, this is Captain Sook requesting fire support mission on these coordinates,” Mark heard the conversation, but didn’t see where she wanted the air support to come in.

“Understood Captain, inbound on your position, hold out,” a pilot replied.

“One section hold your position, three get up next to them. Four and two be ready to assist,” Kumer said. The sections made two lines, firing at the PACs that were still rushing them.

Someone in three section got winged in their shoulder joint. The section behind was already pulling them out and looking at the damage. Mark could tell from the readings that as long as the Trooper wasn’t wounded then they should be good to go. They would need to cut the helmet off though.

There was a rumbling from above as heavy ordinance hit the tower, and Mark was thankful he was under the tower instead of at its peak.

“Move in!” Captain Sook barked.

“Three section move up, mine the area behind you,” Haas added.

“Two, four section, get moving, Mark coordinate, tell me when you’re clear,” Kumer said.

“Sir!” Two and Four Section followed Mark and up the stairs. “Clear!”

“Coming in!” Kumer said, and the rest of the platoon rushed in. Jerome’s section stayed in the rear, tossing down mines to make whoever came in behind them have a very nasty day.

Mark continued up after two and four platoon.

The lobby and the first floor were chaos. There were Troopers and PACs everywhere, the Troopers were in firing lines holding the PACs back, and slaughtering the Chosen not in PA.

Tracers ripped through the twenty or so meters between people. Troopers were falling, not even their armor could withstand that much firepower so close. Joints were being wrecked and people were fighting with whatever was still functional.

Two and four section made to reinforce one platoon and, just as they pulled out their blades, the PACs hurled themselves at the lines. Their fists caved in armor, but so did the Troopers’.

Vibra swords came free and it turned into a violent frenzy of hammering on one another’s armored shells or plunging a blade into them to try and kill the human inside.

Mark fired on the PACs closest to him, pushing some of them back. He got hit by a fist, sending him tumbling, and ripping his Repulsor’s ammunition feed.

He threw the weapon away and grabbed his blade, rushing his attacker, and they punched him again, but he buried his sword in their gut and pulled it upwards.

He turned, letting the PAC fall, punching another PAC in the face.

They rocked back with the vicious attack and Mark sliced across their front, opening their ribcage and dropping them to the ground.

The melee on the first floor didn’t look anything like a modern battle, it looked like a medieval battle of armor hammering on one another until the enemy gave in.

Vibra swords were a clear advantage, slicing through the armor instead of just denting it.

A PAC tackled him from the side, and it felt like a Combat Shuttle had run into him. The breath went out of him as he felt his ribs crack against the armor. He hit the ground, his head fuzzy from the impact. There was no time to recover as the PAC mounted him.

Blows raining on his armor, denting it. Mark used his left arm, hammering on the bastard’s knee. The PAC just continued to hit his forearm, not even the joint. His instincts were taking over rather than his brain.

Mark broke through the armor and smashed the PAC’s kneecap. They stopped beating on him, moving to protect their knee. Mark grabbed their helmet, viciously chopping into their neck-helmet joint, powered by the frenzy of survival. The PAC hit on him again, panicked now, but unable to land any good hits.

Blood fell on Mark’s helmet and the PAC went limp as his hand broke through the join and pierced the Chosen’s neck.

Mark tossed the PAC away, bashing into another PAC that was winding up their attack and grabbing his blade again.

They came in again and Mark slapped them away, the PA turning them. He stabbed with his blade, catching them in the helmet and pulling out quickly, their lifeless body dropping to the ground.

There was a rumbling explosion, and Mark knew that it was the cryo-bunker being hit with chargers.

Mark shook off the pain, his augments giving him a perfect mix of chemicals to keep him in top fighting condition. Then he checked his platoon; five were dead, four wounded, and Kumer was one of the dead, making him platoon commander.

Fuck.

“Jerome, I want a casualty area where the command center is, see that the wounded get there. Dominguez, I want you covering the lobby, Jaz assist. Hama, you’re reserve,” Mark said, giving his section’s tasks as he looked at the battle. The other platoons were fighting in a rough circle around the command center, one taking the pressure off two as they returned from their tasks.

It was close and dirty fighting, the PACs rushing in taking down Troopers with their charges. Troopers fired back until the last possible moment before drawing their blades, most were holding their blades in one hand, using their forearm to steady their gun in case they needed their blade.

Mark looked over the sections, but his ammunition feed was broken and messed up. He moved to Kumer, accessing his ammunition pack’s controls, unlocking it from his back.

Mark’s pack slumped off and he hooked Kumer’s on, locking it to him.

He pulled out the old ammunition feed and threw in the one to Kumer’s pack.

“Contact!” Dominguez called out. The lobby was the easiest and biggest open area on the first floor, making it easy for anyone on the second floor to throw a ton of PACs down it. Dominguez and Jaz acted as a stopper in the bottle.

“Coming to you,” Mark said, opening a channel to Haas. “I am in control of third platoon, contact in the lobby, second floor.”

“Understood,” Haas said, cutting the channel. He was dealing with all of the platoons, keeping them together and firing on the enemy.

Their 152 strong company was down to 135. Somehow, they had to hold out for a rescue.

Mark pushed that from his mind as he rushed to meet Dominguez and Jaz who were up the lobby’s main sweeping staircase. Dominguez’s section was facing the left corridor, Jaz to the right.

Mark moved to Jaz’s line, he didn’t know the man as much as he wanted to, and he knew Dominguez could handle herself.

Mark laid down on his belly next to a support column at the corner of the stairs and the corridor. He held his fire, the Repulsors were keeping what primarily looked like Chosen regulars back, three guns focusing their fire on any PACs that showed up.

For now, it was manageable. Mark checked ammunition counts. They were conserving their ammo as much as possible, but it wouldn’t last forever.

He heard auto-cannons firing on the floors above and missiles detonating. The Combat Shuttles were trying to take as much pressure off them. Mark knew that they were delaying the inevitable, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

One more dead Chosen was one less that could hurt his fellow Troopers.

***

Moretti’s implants pinged a piece of news from the battle net he was tied into, and he pulled it up. He took a sharp breath as he looked at the information: the Triple Twos were pinned down. They had successfully hit a number of charging stations, and their last attack had been on the charging stations in central tower.

Information was flooding in from mining City Twenty-One’s servers, and the Troopers had control of the entire city now.

However, it looked like the company of PA Troopers was not going to get out of the area.

There has to be something we have!
Moretti searched frantically, looking for something to help the Troopers, then something to just kill the Chosen. Other than an EMP, he couldn’t take down the powered armor, because that would take down the Trooper’s armor as well.

He absently scrolled through the munitions aboard the fleet, and he sat up as he started seeing items that weren’t on the official list. Not just the nuclear missiles, but ones with biological payloads, tailored to kill everything but Troopers.

Moretti remembered the stories about Sacremon, how they had used gas to turn Processing City into a cemetery. The city was the barracks and headquarters of Harmony, anyone that wasn’t a Trooper would be killed. Leaving them alive was a liability.

He set up a message and sent it to the FTL network. It had a very long way to go, and Moretti just hoped that it was in time.

Chapter 58

Tower

Earth, Sol System

9/3267

Nivad’s implants blinked incessantly, it was a message from Dalia. He had left the office to spend some time congratulating himself with some female company, but he waved the girl away. She had been trained well, and she gave him a sultry look as she got off him and headed to the bathroom connected to the lavish room.

“We have a priority message from Osdal,” Dalia led with as their implants connected.

“Go on,” he said, knowing that there was only one person capable of reaching them direct: the agent that had been on Masoul Actual.

“They’re asking to use the biological weapons.”

“For what purpose, when and where?”

“He wants to use the ones that are attuned to the Trooper’s immunizations. It will only kill people that are not in the EMF. He wants to get the authorization to hit Mining City Twenty-One with the weapons.” She held her breath waiting for his response.

“Thoughts?” he asked, knowing that she had already looked the situation over, knowing he would ask her for her input.

“I believe it’s a stroke of genius. Mining City Twenty-One is a Harmony refuge. In one stroke we can take out the majority of their military forces and then turn to have our forces re-dedicated to taking out the remaining Chosen in system.”

Her thoughts were in line with his and Nivad looked over the attached plan that had come with the call. “Very well, he has authorization.”

“Understood sir. I will have a report ready in your inbox with updates,” she said, making it clear she wouldn’t disturb him unless something of vital importance came up.

“Good.” Nivad cut the channel and clicked his fingers. The woman that was Nivad’s company for the night came out of the bathroom, hugging the doorway, showing off her assets and giving him a look to ask if he wanted her.

Few things could get Nivad’s blood racing anymore, but this woman was very good at her art. He motioned for her to come over, a small smile playing on his lips.

The smile had less to do with the woman and more to do with the fact that possibly millions of Chosen would die in just a matter of hours.

He was looking forward to the reports.

Chapter 59

EMFC Dauntless

Osdal Actual, Osdal System

9/3267

General Jones was looking over the various screens that showed the battles happening from Osdal Actual’s Mining cities, to their processing stations and Osdal Three’s Organic cultivation areas.