Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) (44 page)

              The real power of Earth and her colonies ran through the Ministry of Intelligence. Nivad was the emperor and the ministry was his tool to command the people of Earth and her colonies. Including the corporations. No one else came close to that sort of power.

              Her blood ran cold as she saw her future crumble and her past become worthless.

              She sat in her chair, looking at the hologram that rested in the center of the room showing Masoul Actual. Communications personnel ringed it on the opposite side, facing her and the hologram. Four tables were on either side of the hologram with meeting rooms and lounges that the higher-ups and her favorites relaxed in.

              Her thoughts of climbing the EMF ladder were gone, political positioning was gone. Messages started coming in on her personal messages, companies withdrawing their support from her. She stood numbly and walked out of the command center, barely hearing Domashev barking orders as the colonels moved from their tables to the hologram and started pouring over the reports from Masoul Actual.

***

             
“Seems that Mr. Selvra wants you to win this battle,
” NIDenise said in Nerva’s head.

             
“What did he do?”
Nerva asked.

             
“Called for Wai’s execution, but got her to step down, too many connections for that. As soon as the announcement went through the EMF’s back channels her backers disappeared. No one wants to piss Nivad off while he’s fighting this new war.”

              A military police officer came down the brig and unlocked the doors, releasing some pissed off officers.

              He opened Nerva’s pen.

              “Sorry, sir, I was under orders and…” the man started. Nerva raised a hand and walked out of the cell.

              “You were doing as you were ordered. Discipline and following orders keeps the EMF rolling, if we didn’t have that then we wouldn’t get anything done,” Nerva said, raising his voice so the other officers could hear him.

              “So, what we doing now, boss?” Ortiz asked, spitting tobacco juice into a bottle.

              “We get ready for Masoul Actual. I want reports from all your people by tomorrow night, same for you Demar and Sholtz. Take today and tomorrow off, our people deserve to sit this fight out, but we all know that’s not going to happen so we have to prepare as best as we can.” Nerva looked to his division’s officers and the other officers that had backed his play and would have been stuck in the brig with him if it weren’t for the fact Nivad Selvra needed them to fight his war for them.

             
This universe is a strange place.

             
“Tell me something new,”
NIDenise said in his head.

Chapter 40

             
Tower

             
Earth, Sol System

             
3/3242

              Nivad didn’t look at anyone from the EMF the entire meeting, instead he had the people from Osdal and Masoul lay out their information.

              “They understand that this isn’t just another rebellion now. And they don’t know what to do with themselves,” Wallace said, smoking a cigarette in Nivad’s office. Dalia also smoked in her own chair. This was the inner circle deciding the fate of Earth and her colonies.

              Nivad exhaled, back to his regular stim-cigarettes.

              “Good, then they will understand your appointment to them as ‘advisor’,” Nivad said.

              Wallace didn’t look pleased with the idea but he nodded.

              That’s what Nivad liked most about the man. When given a task, he’d put his head down and do it, no matter what the task might entail.

              “How is the supply freighter looking?” Nivad asked.

              “It’s on schedule with thirty-six more years to go until it reaches Osdal,” Dalia said.

              “Good, and the closest carrier?” Nivad took a drag of his cigarette.

              “Eighteen years,” she said, checking her surface.

              “Reclaimer is the best ship that we have right now, all forces are to reinforce them, so have the reinforcements slow down. I want Reclaimer to be the first on scene, they’ve shown that they’re capable of thinking outside the box. I expected that they would need to stop their advance already with numerical losses. If they can do this much with two carriers then I want to see what they can do with seven,” Nivad said, looking at the others. Reclaimer had already served more fighting hours than most other carriers had experienced.

              Reclaimer and Fearless had more months of active fighting than the rest of the EMF combined.

              Nivad wanted to use their veteran status as the core for the EMF in the upcoming war.

              “Population projections for Osdal?” Nivad asked, looking to Dalia.

              She exhaled slowly and looked at her surface.

              “Forty-three million,” she said, looking back up at him. Osdal was a labor intensive world, and with their great natural resources they refined and shipped most of the EHC’s compound materials; everything from the crystal matrix that made up the towers to the cermite pads cities were built on, and special materials used in freighter and carrier’s solar sails.

              It was one of the oldest colonies settled.

              Their processing and shipping center was bigger than Masoul’s Shipping Station. Most of their materials were sold to the rest of the sphere, being turned into various goods before getting shipped off to Earth and the other colonies.

              “I still don’t like the lack of information coming from Osdal. The population is big enough that Harmony operatives can hide in the general population and they have none of the command and control abilities that we have here on Earth. Something that I want to change as soon as possible,” Nivad said, looking to Dalia who was typing out a reminder with one hand, and holding a smoking cigarette in the other.

              “Just three days until the EMF reach Masoul Actual,” Nivad said, looking at the screens.

              “At least Colonel Domashev is listening to the advice of the operatives on the ground. They might be useful for further operations,” Wallace said, looking at Nivad.

              “Yes, they might. Keep tabs on them, though. From reports, they already have quite the following, called the Triple Two’s, they’re Nerva’s people, and he’s groomed three of their four section commanders. If that man was given enough time he could turn Reclaimer into something terrible,” Nivad said.

              “Knife edge,” Dalia warned.

              “Quite, he is useful for winning this war, but he’s dedicated to his troopers. That’s useful for now, but if he’s still alive after the war then it could become a big issue. We don’t want people caring about those below them too much. If they started doing that then they might stop agreeing to missions. We will not make the mistakes of other intelligence ministries in the past. If we give someone power and means we must also have an option to remove them from the equation; we can’t have people thinking that they’re able to act without our orders,” Nivad said.

              “That’s why General Wai was put on ice and relieved of her position but not removed from the EMF. She and the other officers are kept at bay for now, but if he acts out then you release their collars,” Dalia said, new understanding in her eyes.

              “Exactly, we sharpen our blade because we must, but we make sure that there is something to stop the blade being sharpened on both ends and pointed towards us,” Nivad said.

Chapter 41

             
Landing City

             
Masoul Actual, Masoul System

             
6/3242

              Moretti was in the command center with Mark and Ali standing behind him, and everyone else was with the powered armor, lounging around the development area.

              Harper was looking over reports from his command chair and not looking at all bothered with the two Earth Military Force Carriers that were now in Masoul Actual’s orbit.

              There was tension and anger in the air, and more than one fight had broken out in the Chosen’s barracks as the carriers moved from Shipping Station to the planet.

              “The carriers are rotating,” someone said, sounding confused as everyone watched the main screen which showed Reclaimer in the planet’s sky.

              Lightning crackled in the background causing the image to dull.

              Mark fought to keep the grin and hungry look from his eyes; instead he was displaying a sneer that most Chosen and enforcers had adopted.

             
They might think that their dark looks and threats will have an effect on the carrier, I doubt anyone has ever seen a carrier do an orbital bombardment before a landing in years.

              “We’re getting reports of weapons fire!” someone said, their voice squeaking in alarm.

              As they talked, projectiles made lines through the planet’s atmosphere, connecting with the ground and hammering targets across Landing City.

              The pounding could be felt in the command center as railgun rods as big as a table smashed into the ground.

              “Weapon emplacements on the surface are being destroyed, our hangars and sensors are also getting pounded,” someone said, as if they couldn't quite believe the reports.

              As if hearing their words, the sensor feed saw a flash of bright light, a high density rod from Reclaimer’s cannons turning into a meteor as it hit the sensor and cut it off.

              The room was in panic as damage reports came in from the surface.

              People were yelling and ordering others around, trying to get some kind of report out of the surface batteries and people.

              Then the rumbling from the impacting rounds stopped as Reclaimer passed out of range.

              People looked upwards, as if trying to understand what was going on.

              Red lights and warnings blared on screens but people were stunned into silence, many of them probably hoping it was over.

             
It’s just started,
Mark thought. Fearless took a few minutes to get into range.

              Alerts doubled as more installations were rendered useless.

              Mark saw Harper out of the corner of his eye; the man looked at the screens, his left hand holding his chin as chaos took over the command center.

              Mark knew that they would get used to the bombing, people adapted quickly, but afterwards there wouldn’t be much left to threaten the combat shuttles, other than the planet’s really terrible weather. That would get cleared up as well if the higher-ups were finally listening to Haas’ ideas.

              Mark almost laughed as he remembered the brainstorming session when they talked about how deadly the planet’s storms were. Their answer was on the destructive side of things, but if it worked then not many would be complaining. Well EMF people; the Chosen would be pretty fucked up.

              “
Go dark,”
Haas ordered, using his sub vocals so no words came out of his mouth. Everyone turned off their implants and augments.

              “We have reports of resistance fighters attacking sections of the city,” someone reported.

              “Dispatch Chosen to hunt them down, tell people to report to their positions. From now on we’re on a war setting. I want enforcers out in the streets making sure that no one tries to go against the rules,” Harper said, still holding his chin and looking over everything, like a man might look out on a fresh new day that would turn out nicely.

***

              Fearless and Reclaimer had been pounding the absolute crap out of Landing City; there weren’t any viable weapons emplacements left on the surface, sensors had been cut down, and shuttle bays were smoldering ruins.

              Tyler looked over the information feeds from the computers in the tech wing’s control room.

              All of the powered armor was charged, weapons ready, and loaded in their positions.

              Tyler looked over to where Bobbie, Yu, Jerome, and Dashtund stood; those four were standing next to a supply closet playing euchre.

              In the supply closet was a welder and extra armor plates. While they hadn’t told the techs of the changes they wanted to bring about, it didn’t mean they weren’t prepared to fix them themselves.

              Tyler’s eyes looked over the techs, Chosen, and other powered armor users around. Everyone was tense, a few looking up while none of the carriers had a bead on Landing City.

              Like clockwork another carrier rotated into position, firing over the horizon and hammering the ground once again.

              The others complained that Moretti’s enforcers were able to sleep through it all.

              Tyler put it down to nerves, they were anxious as the infamous troopers were finally coming down to Masoul Actual; the troopers that had taken two-hundred and twenty thousand of their own people and killed nearly six times their number on Gas Planet and Shipping Station.

              Tyler and his platoon didn’t have those same nerves, they were excited to see their brothers and sisters. A few had trouble sleeping because they were so excited to be putting their plans into action.

              Waiting for Reclaimer and Fearless to pound the shit out of Landing City’s surface ate away at them; it was almost time for them to get into action.

              “What the hell?” Stan said, bringing Tyler’s attention back to the room they were in.

              “Are those missiles?” someone else asked.

              “But why would they be using… shit those must be nukes! And we don’t have a fucking thing that can shoot them down!” Stan said, his eyes widening as he stared at the screen in panic.

              Tyler let his arms drop to his sides as he looked to Ali, Obe, and Kojo. They all nodded to him.

              They pulled their weapons out from under their dusters, no one was watching they were so focused on the screens.

              “Yeah, they are nukes, welcome to the reckoning, fuckers,” Tyler said, as the four opened fire. The techs and Chosen in the room didn’t have time to react as the silenced weapons fired. The door was sealed so no sound escaped the room.

              “Check them,” Tyler said. Only the troopers were left standing. He moved to the doorway, opening it, and let out a high-pitched whistle.

***

              Mark heard the whistle, and his hands that were resting on his pistols came up, shooting as soon as they were free from their holsters; the silencers made two
phut phuts,
and Tony and the other enforcer with Mark fell to the ground. Mark turned, aiming with his right pistol. Everyone was looking towards the noise, or at the enforcers that were pulling weapons from their dusters.

              Mark fired at the non-troopers, his implants showing red halos dropping.

              His right pistol was empty and he started firing with his left.

              Mark saw light in the command room as weapons fired.

              His second pistol ran out of ammo and he jumped for the doorway, dropping his pistols, and grabbing the E-12 he’d stolen from the armory just hours earlier.

              His hands found the familiar weapon.

              “Dashtund move right, Sasa…” Mark was cut off as fire clipped his cover. “Get me some covering fire!” Mark said.

              Weapons responded, the familiar E-12s deafening.

              Mark ran from his cover, firing and diving for a computer console, and tracers ripped through the air. The troopers controlled the area around the powered armor, but there were still Chosen in the catwalks to the rear of the powered armor’s training area.

              Mark fired at Chosen, he was just meters from the training area really close to where they stored the armors.

              Troopers were yelling all over the place, but his training enabled Mark to only tune in to what was important to him.

              “Moving!” he barked, as his people’s firing rate went up, tracers ripping through the catwalks, red halos falling away, and others ducking.

              Mark ran, pulling off his duster and dropping his rifle.

              He went tumbling as his leg caught a round.

              The thing was a mess, but it worked.

              “Mother fuckers!” he said into the ground, pushing himself up, and ignoring the cuts on his arms and hands.

              He got into the powered armor, locking it and powering up.

              It took a few seconds, rounds pinging off his armor.

              The armor plates locked around him and the cradle released, and he grabbed the repulsor on a wheeled cart in front of the powered armor.

              He fired, and the repulsor beat out even the E-12s as a solid line of tracers connected him to the catwalks.

              Chosen ran for their lives, and troopers cut them down as Mark changed from continuous fire to bursts.

              Another repulsor opened up to Mark’s side. Dooks had a repulsor in his hands and was servicing targets.

              “Fucking crazy man!” Mark shouted.

              “Can’t all be using fancy armor like you, sarge!” Dooks shot back, not even looking away from his targets as he put lengthy bursts into any targets he could find.