Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) by Michael Chatfield Page A

knew one thing - no one killed EMF troopers and got away with it. Whether they knew the trooper or not.
                  “We can assume that we’re going to be in the middle of that mess. Nerva will have more for us,” Mark said, as he looked to them and saw understanding faces. “Dismissed.” Mark waited for them to get into motion before he headed for the bank of elevators that criss-crossed the carrier. He headed for one that would take him to his quarters.
                  “I’m gonna go see Alexis,” Tyler said.
                  “See you later,” Mark replied as he waved him off. Tyler disappeared into the mass of ambling troopers. Jerome appeared out from it.
                  “Smokes on the observatory?” Jerome asked.
                  “Yeah, gonna grab a shower quick,” Mark said. His pace didn’t slow as he got onto the elevator.
                  “You should, I can smell you even over my own stank!’ Jerome said as he joined Mark on the elevator, with a half-laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. He saw the same recording as Mark. This didn’t look like a battle that the EMF fought in their lifetime.
                  “Did you see the thing about Harmony?” Jerome asked, his voice quiet as they moved to the rear of the elevator.
                  “The video?”
                  “No their doctrine,” Jerome said.
                  “No,” Mark answered, and looked for Jerome to fill in the blanks for him.
                  “Looks like the rules cooked up in the crusades, and every other religious war. It’s going to get messy,” Jerome said.
                  “When isn’t it?” Mark sighed.
                  They got to their deck, and separated to shower. Mark got a new set of smart clothes on, and wandered over to Jerome’s section barracks.
                  “You good to go?” Mark asked as Jerome threw his shirt on, and pulled it into place. The shirt moved together, and arranged itself on his frame.
                  ‘Yeah, lead on,” Jerome said. Mark pulled a cigar from his chest pocket, and handed one to Jerome while he grabbed another.
                  “Thanks.” Jerome struck it alight on his pants, puffing on the concoction. New cigars didn’t give off the smoke smell that coated everything. Instead, they only activated when they came into contact with saliva. A simple drink of water would wash even that taste away.
                  Mark lit his, and the smell of strawberries filled the corridor. The scented cigars didn’t have the same system. After all, who didn’t like strawberries?
                  They greeted those they knew, and wandered past others they didn’t. Salutes were almost automatic, as they got to the armored glass of the observation room.
                  Mark sank into a chair, and felt the tension draw away from his body as he looked down on Earth.
                  It didn’t disappear. Troopers traditionally got time off between planet drops, and went to either Earth or Masoul. It allowed them time to decompress, and get their affairs in order. Mark was working since he got to Earth, and they were already back to training and off to a new battle.
                  It looks like they’ve got some damned planning behind them with the way they took out the station and the cryo-pod bunkers.
                  “What are you thinking?” Jerome asked. He didn’t look at Mark. He couldn’t sense his friend’s thoughts.
                  “How this doesn’t look to be just some start-up rebellion. This had planning. Planning that isn’t making me happy with our chances. Especially in a system as developed as Masoul,” Mark said, his eyes dark.
                  “Then we’re going to