Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (20 page)

           
Another few rounds got him in the leg.

           
A grenade put the person waiting outside Dolche's entrance down.

           
Only one person turned for the doorway, Dolche put a burst into them, following up with three grenades in their middle.

           
“Fuck yes man! Oi, someone gimme fucking cover!” Dolche said over the platoon wide channel, he fired into the enemies building. Tyler seemed to have got into the act with a vengeance, those that moved to the windows were not having a good time.

           
“What's wrong with you?” Dolche asked, his phrase pitched in worry.

           
“Left arm and leg. Grab my back and pull me, I can still shoot.” Mark pushed himself over with his good arm, sticking the buttstock under his arm and holding the handle with his remaining functional arm.

           
He set a command on the gun and gritted his teeth, his implants relayed the set command for his weapon. His repulsor fired at it's highest rate of fire.

           
Dolche was there now, grabbing his ammunition pack and heaving. Mark helped him as much as possible with one foot, his gun roving the enemy building as he continued to fire at them.

           
“I need a fucking medic! Leg and shoulder injuries, bleeding pretty good too,” Dolche called out, reading the description that told him Mark's simulated injuries.

           
“On their way,” the second lieutenant said as the two sections attached to Mark and Tyler's opened fire from their positions, they'd cleared the apartment and were now raining fire down into the enemy building.

           
Dolche heaved heavily and Mark's gun went silent as they were now back inside the building.

           
Both of them were panting as they rested where they were.

           
“Woo! Now that was a fucking rush!” Dolche said through laboured breaths.

           
Mark turned off gritting his teeth as the signal for his gun to fire.

           
“You just got to save my ass and look all cool. I only got shot,” Mark complained.

           
Dolche laughed.

           
“You'll get some time with the medics, who are a damned sight better looking than most of the trooper ladies. I'd get thrown back into it,” Dolche said. The sounds of weapons fire above them and across the few hundred meters in the enemy tower seemed to punctuate his point.

           
“Thanks for coming out to save my ass,” Dolche said, hitting Mark's armored shoulder as a sign of thanks instead of trying to inflict pain. “I'm sorry for that shit the other night. I was out of line; you'll make a decent trooper yet.”

           
Mark didn't know what to say, hoping that whatever lesson Dolche had wanted to teach him the other night was truly forgotten.

           
“Thanks.” He was finally able to get out as the medics came.

           
“Change out our gear, we're going to need that repulsor out here,” Dolche said.

           
They pulled off Mark's ammunition pack and his gun. Dolche put his in Mark's good hand, strapping the ammunition pack into place and checking the gun.

           
Mark was dragged off to the casualty area, finding Garcia, Jaol, and a selection of others from different sections.

           
“Hey,” one of the wounded said waving a hand, obviously bored with lying down as a casualty.

           
“Hey,” Mark replied as medics pulled off armored plates and started applying different things to him that would get him back in the fight in real-life.

           
“How's it going out there?” The man asked, the medic giving them a reproving look.

           
“Dunno, they tried to rush us with a section and we just took them out. It seemed like their friends popped out of their hiding spots in the other tower, to give them support fire, only to have our guys open up on them. I think this tower is clear at least.” Mark shrugged, the medic now giving him a displeased look.

           
“Sorry,” Mark said, laying still.

           
“Hmm, should be over soon. I think I hear our guys getting ready to run over to the other building,” the other person said. Mark couldn't see their rank or name, but repulsors did seem to increase their rate of fire and a slew of E-12's fired off, sounding further and further away.

           
Mark used his new implants which were now nearly completely online and were going to need a few hours, or maybe days to get used to.

           
His HUD turned into a map of the city, friendly markers moving from one tower to the other, enemy markers flashing up as people tagged their positions.

           
Then the sections that had dropped in with Pullo's section swarmed up the tower, fifteen had made it into the enemy building, there were only five of the enemy left able to wield a weapon.

           
The repulsor's stopped firing as their comrades made it into the tower, shooting now would only put them in danger.

           
There was a single shot, Mark grinned in his helmet, his brother taking down the enemy to four.

           
There was some fast and fierce fighting, two were taken out on the attacker’s side, but all the defenders were killed.

           
“Simulation over, attackers have won.” The emotionless voice of the simulation said over speakers built in the tower.

           
Mark put his armor back on, standing and slinging once everything was back in place.

           
He hit the release on his helmet, pulling it off of his sweaty head.

           
“Everyone out between the two towers for an After Action Review,” the second lieutenant in charge of the attackers said.

           
Helmets came off and sweaty faces and heads appeared, people welcomed their friends back to their sections, Mark went through the main lobby, Tyler who had been sitting on a desk grinned.

           
“You're supposed to give others something to shoot at, at least,” Mark growled.

           
Tyler gave Mark one of the shrugs he himself so famously gave out.

           
“You're supposed to stay in cover instead of putting your ass in the middle of the damn street spraying people,” Tyler said, shouldering his brother.

           
Mark made a noncommittal noise as they walked outside and went to join their section. Dolche walked over to them, his face tight as if he were deep in thought and he'd eaten a lemon.

           
He stopped in front of the Victor brothers looking like he was struggling with getting his thoughts into words.

           
“I fucked up, I, I'm sorry,” Dolche said, admitting someone was wrong in any group that dealt with high stress was a hard thing to do. It gave people a chink in your armor, something to poke at and make fun. The EMF were supposed to never fuck up, so when someone did, they usually compounded their issues or walked away from it. Actually saying sorry, well that was rare and something that a person could be expected to be made fun of for.

           
Mark and Tyler were very still watching Dolche to see if there was any part of him that would give an indication that he was hiding any other feelings.

           
“No worries, you made a pretty decent dent in Garcia's bunk anyway,” Mark said, his grin removing anything sinister about his words.

           
“We cool?” Dolche asked, looking to them both.

           
“We're cool,” Mark replied, Tyler nodding his agreement. “Though you can still carry that damned thing around.” Mark gestured to his repulsor in Dolche's hands.

           
Tyler snorted at his brother's antics.

           
“Try getting tossed into Jaol's bunk, that sucks,” Garcia said from behind the brothers, a grin on his face, he wasn't going to come out and say sorry, but it looked like he wanted to gloss over that particular night.

           
“Aww man, I always try to keep it nice and fragrant for you,” Jaol said from behind him, letting a fart go.

           
“Damn it Jaol!” Garcia said, moving away from the other man.

           
“You gonna wait till we're coming back from Sacremon to get your assess over here?” Pullo didn't yell but his voice carried over to the five as they hurried over to join the rest of their section.

           
Pullo's eyes looked over them in interest before turning to the circle of sections with the two officers at the head.

           
People talked about what went well and what didn't, breaking down the overall to the different forces and then sections.

           
Pullo pulled his people to the lobby that they had been fighting in, people finding places to sit or lean as he talked.

           
“Simmons, good work on taking over so fast, good individual drills and getting the damned wounded out of the way. Everyone reacted well to quick changes, that shit is going to happen fast. Dolche, Mark that was some good team work at the end, but Mark if you're behind a ripper, you need to keep that gun up and running, hammering people. You can't go charging out into the open, get yourself killed and then leave us without the support of that weapon.” Pullo's look was severe.

           
“Yes Sarge,” Mark said from his position leaning against a counter.

           
Pullo nodded, his eyes turning to Tyler who was sitting on the counter Mark leaned on.

           
“Tyler,” Pullo shook his head. “You took down eight people out of the seventeen this section killed. Our section had the highest number of kills and one of the hardest jobs, especially with that artillery.”

           
Xiao and his section didn't look too pleased about that reminder, but you couldn't predict where artillery was going to land.

           
“Now let’s get a damned shower and food, then we're going to spend the afternoon in lectures on Sacremon.”

           
The groans were subdued but still there.

           
“After the mess that got us the attention of Captain Nerva we need to know the planet as well as its own inhabitants. They've been building themselves up for
twenty-five,
almost
twenty-six
years.”

           
The others accepted that knowledge easily, Mark and Tyler's faces both went pale, sure it was sixteen light years from Earth, but they'd been going at forty percent the speed of light! Twenty-five years, it felt unreal to think that time had gone past.

           
You went to sleep and woke up when you should be forty-three years old.
Mark felt a shiver go down his spine. He caught some of the glances from the rest of the squad, they understood what he was going through, they'd been through it.

           
How long have they been doing this while their friends and family back home are fading away? Stop thinking like that, you at least have Tyler. Sure it's fucked, but it's time to focus on making sure you make it back to Earth alive. No matter how many decades have slipped away.

           
“Because of rotations we were the only ship that was in-system and ready to deal with the threat quickest. They're going to have guns, they're going to have artillery, booby traps and a good damned military. What they don't have is the purpose-built military tech we have, our medical abilities to get troopers back in the fight in a few days as long as their brain survives, and the information we have access to. That information could keep us alive down there. You veterans should know this, or else you're not going to remain veterans very long,” Pullo said, looking to the privates and corporals in the formation.

Privates had dropped onto a hostile planet once, Corporals had done it twice, or spent enough damned time in the shit, or been given the rank on merit. Getting it on merit was rare since most people didn't look at them the same as those that had spent their time ground-side.

           
Grim faces with lips pressed together nodded back at Pullo.

           
“Good, on to showering and eating, because you smell as bad as Jaol does after he's swooned a cafeteria lady for a burrito!”

           
Grim faces cracked into smiles and laughs as Jaol looked around raising his eyebrows comically.

           
Even Mark let a smile slip while Tyler laughed.