Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (14 page)

BOOK: Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1)
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Some thirty-three years and thirteen lightyears later…

           
“Move it troopers, it's about time you earned your damned pay!” Someone yelled as Mark's body came back online, he stepped out of his alcove feeling like a limp noodle. He pulled his smart clothes on with numb fingers as he looked around blearily.

           
His smart cloth and chip linked up, a one-line rank tab appeared on his shoulder as Victor scrawled across his nametape.

           
“Move it Victor, you’re damned big ass is holding everyone up!” Sergeant Pullo by his name tape and the two lines above a plain dot, said, he clearly wasn't happy with his performance.

           
“Yes sergeant,” Mark mumbling through the words as he got his legs moving through the flow of people.

           
A scrawl of written information appeared in his sight. While he had been sleeping the cryo chamber had done a full medical on him, and plugged in all the augments, implants and enhancements into his body.

           
Other people who clearly hadn't been listening to their training staff were howling in confusion as they started seeing things.

           
Veterans pushed past them as training staff barked them back into order. They would have time to adjust later, right now the EMF needed their slab of meat moving and ready to carry out orders.

           
“Fuck, I feel worse than that time at Barry's after the sanders gang,” Tyler said from behind Mark.

           
“Bout damned time you woke up,” Mark said, seeing that Alexis was also following him. “What squad you guys got?” He asked, not even pausing his jog.

           
“Second division, fourth regiment, Charlie company first platoon third section,” Tyler rattled off, Alexis was in the same Division but in second regiment.

           
Mark was in Bravo Company.

           
“Who’s in Charlie Company here?” Mark asked. A few heads turned and Mark moved to those people.

           
“What platoon are you in?' He asked, going from person to person.

           
It took some time before he found someone going to Tyler's section, when he did he used his implants to transfer orders with them. It was an odd feeling using his eyes to change commands.

           
“What the hell you do that for?” The person asked as their HUD updated with the new section they were reporting to.

           
“Just wanted to stay with my bro,” Mark shrugged running off.

           
“Get yah both damned killed anyway,” the man growled.

           
“Someone's not a morning person,” Tyler said, his voice quiet enough so it wouldn't carry as they moved on.

           
They moved out into the massive floor that was configured to look and act like Sacremons’ environment.

           
“See you guys at chow,” Alexis said, waving and going off to her platoon.

           
“Don't get too attached,” Mark warned.

           
“Well we're not exactly doing that ourselves,” Tyler said giving Mark a knowing look.

           
You did just force someone to change their orders with you so you could be with your bro.

           
Mark shrugged and moved into place.

           
The veterans looked at them as if they were some new kind of species that they had been told about, but were still wondering if they themselves were real.

           
“So nice for you to join us Victor and... Victor,” Sergeant Pullo said. He was the one who had been kicking Mark's ass out of the cryo chamber had somehow beaten them onto the main floor. Sergeant Pullo had light brown hair cut down to a fuzz, blue eyes and a strong chin. His body had the weight of someone that had gained their muscle through hard work.

           
Right now those blue eyes thinned as he was probably realizing that one of them had switched with someone else.

           
“Your big damned bastards, what CEO chucked you out of mega-city?” The sergeant asked.

           
Mark and Tyler thought themselves past that kind of name-calling, but here, just like in the slums they would have to prove themselves in order to get past the most annoying ribbing.

           
Neither of them rose to the bait and the Sergeant quickly moved on.

           
“First we're going to go down to the chow hall before everyone else crams in the damned thing, we'll continue our briefing there. Turn to your right, and we're jogging.” Everyone moved in a jogging column of three right into an elevator which took them to one of the three massive messes that served the three full-strength divisions aboard Reclaimer.

           
“You looked at the most recent tachyon transmissions?” One of the veterans, his name tape labelling him as Gupta, asked his friend Simmons.

           
Gupta was shorter than Mark, but he was heavily tanned with black hair, a plain face and had muscles that spoke of hard work.

           
Simmons had a similar physical build, but she was also taller than Gupta, had red hair pulled back in a ponytail and sharp features.

           
“Yeah, using fucking kid fighters, they're the worst. They can get in small spaces and will fight to the end,” Simmons remarked, she didn't sound upset about the enemy using kids, rather the fact that kids could be a bigger pain in the ass to kill than adults.

           
Mark shrugged it off. He had killed someone that was trying to stab him and Tyler in the night when he was nine. There was little room for political correctness within Earth and Her Colonies. Kids got used for labor and any jobs that cut costs for CEO's. Unions and labor laws, none of them were adhered to on the colonies, on Earth they were a forgotten memory.

           
The health and safety of the twentieth century had gone tits up when the economies of western nations tanked. The corporations sucked the nation’s dry and started setting up their own independent trading houses. When the rest of the world tried to take over the companies that were making more money than any other country, corporations shut off their companies products to their attackers.

           
The attacks died overnight and corporations used their new-found power to do what they had always done, get politicians to see the world according to their view.

           
With their new power and wealth, many politicians saw how things were going and let their greed take them. Governments that had been enemies for as long as history could remember, played nice and Earth's government came into fruition.

           
The corporations were so entwined with government that 'elections' were basically companies trying to find someone that would be agreeable to helping their economy grow. Every CEO tried to get their person on Earth's throne to get them a position of power and open to the most lucrative contracts that Earth and Her Colonies offered.

           
Mark and Tyler heaped food onto their plates and started to look around for a free table.

           
“Sit with the section,” Gupta said, heading for the section's table, people were already lining up at the multiple dinner lines while the mess filled up.

           
Sergeant Pullo sat in the middle of the table, people dug into their food with gusto.

           
“Nothing like deep sleep to give a man an appetite!” Xiao said, shovelling food into his face.

           
“Pssht, would hardly call you a man,” Simmons said, grins appearing while Xiao was unable to retaliate because of his mouth full of food.

           
Mark and Tyler sunk into their food, taking their time, both of them remembered their first meal on Reclaimer, they'd never seen so much food before and people had gorged themselves so much that they'd thrown up. The run after that meal had been a disgusting affair.

           
Tyler and Mark's stomachs were now accustomed to change, and their growing bodies needed every damned calorie they could pack in.

           
“Alright, listen in,” Pullo said swallowing whatever he'd been munching on.

           
“We're going through standard training,” there were groans from everyone as he continued. “We'll do some shooting tests, all systems from E-12s to Repulsors. Then its drills, I want to know how everyone's gear is by tomorrow. We'll be doing maintenance till we make planet fall. We've got a week to go before we're above Sacremon.” His head swiveled to Mark and Tyler who hadn't stopped putting food in their faces as they listened.

           
“Listen to everything this lot says, most of its crap, but sometimes they pull something out of their asses.” That got a few laughs from around the table.

           
Mark just nodded.

           
“First thing. There ain't no gangs up here, there's just us looking out for one another and everyone else trying to kill us. This is your life now, get used to it quick. If I hear you starting shit I will come down on you like a goddamn orbital strike, am I understood?” Pullo's voice had a hint of iron to it. This was not a man to cross.

           
“Understood Sergeant,” Tyler said, Mark nodding his agreement.

           
“Good, I don't know how you both got in my section but I don't care, you pull your weight and you might make it to a full line after this mess.”

           
“What's the situation looking like on the ground. I heard that they've been working on training up the kids,” Gupta asked, Mark realized that he was a master corporal, the second in command of this merry little section.

           
The atmosphere was tense as Pullo nodded.

           
“Yeah they've got ankle biters, they've also been working on making better weapons and they're hiding in the factories,” Complaints rose from around the table.

           
“Soo no orbital bombardment,” Simmons said.

           
“That is a big N-O,” Pullo said. “Most times we don’t even drop on the planet. These guys seem to have a bone to pick with the corporations so we're going to be dropping in. Probably hot and then it's our job to subdue the local population.” There were sounds of annoyance. They just wanted to visit a system, get them back in line and piss off. Having to fight it out, that was a hassle.

           
“Hopefully we can pull an Eridani, secure the food production areas and starve them out,” Pullo said, talking about the only other action that Reclaimer had been involved in since being created. To the people of Reclaimer it had been just a few months ago. To the rest of the universe it had been nearly seventy years ago.

            The reason they needed recruits was to make up their losses from the planet. They’d gone off and drank at Resolute station then gone right back into cryo-pods, sleeping the thirty-two years it took to get to Sacremon.

           
No one disagreed, but no one seemed to try and agree with him immediately.

           
“Anyway the higher ups are figuring out a plan and we should have our marching orders soon enough. We've got another ten minutes till we've got to report for weapon training.” People doubled the speed at which they ate. Pullo quickly joined them.

           
An annoying warning note went off on their implants. They vacated the table, other sections did the same, dumping their uneaten food into one receptacle and putting their trays on a conveyor belt.

           
It still hurt Mark to see that food being dumped into the chute, though he'd been told by his training Sergeant that there were more things to worry about than food while in the service to the EMF.

           
“Grab your assigned rifle and get up on the firing line,” a bored looking Company Sergeant Major said, they were signified by a circle on their arm with a 'C' in its centre.

            “
Gupta get them going through drills. I'll observe.” Pullo's eyes fell to Mark and Tyler, making clear that his 'observing' was going to be making sure that they weren't crap.

           
Tyler grinned to Mark mischievously as if asking Mark if he wanted to show Pullo their real skills.

           
Mark let out a small laugh.

           
“Guns aren't something to laugh about Mark,” Pullo said, his tone warning and his arms crossed as he tried to impress how displeased he was with their performance so far.

           
“No Sergeant,” Mark said grabbing his rifle, checking it with quick and precise actions of someone that had been handling weapons for almost as long as he could remember.

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