Free Osdal (Harmony War Series Book 3) by Michael Chatfield

had been getting the most out of their workouts before they left. But that was half the reason, the other half was that gym allowed them to get away from thinking about their upcoming deadline.
     
     
    Chapter 9
    EMFC Reclaimer
    Osdal System outer limits
    7/3266
    Young, Yu and Bobbie had gone through the entire freighter and checked it all over at least three times in the last week. They did it again before their flight.
    Bobbi checked the work spaces and his cargo hold, Young ran electronic checks and probes, Yu wandered around the craft checking the engines, the ports that hid weapon systems that he only knew about because he’d seen the weapons deployed.
    He had four auto-cannons along the craft’s belly, and five auto-turrets; one on each side of the freighter, others at the forward and rear of the ships belly, and another on the roof.
    There were also two missile launchers fed by internal magazines, though he only had twelve missiles in total and their rate of fire was one every three seconds.
    He checked the wings. This inter-system freighter was rated to land on planets, and had nice sloped back wings and an aerodynamic frame.
    Yu knew it would be a bitch to fly in atmosphere, but the engines were as strong as a combat drop ship’s, which sounded nice, when you didn’t think of the fact it was nearly three times the size of a Combat Shuttle.
    “What the hell did we do to get stuck driving these buckets?” Yu growled as he saw Bobbie head deep into an ammunition bunker hidden under the decking.
    “We were too good at flying a Combat Shuttle, so giving us this tin can is higher ups idea of job satisfaction. You know, the whole, ‘we’re not happy unless we’re pissed off and complaining’ bit?” Bobbie said, climbing out of the bunker.
    “I hate driving this thing,” Yu said, wandering through the large cargo hold, which looked nearly the same as the Combat Shuttle’s, minus the drop hatches under the seats.
    He couldn’t think of piloting the freighter as anything more than driving; sure it entered atmosphere, which would be interesting, but was something Yu did not want to do with the lumbering beastie.
    Being in a Combat Shuttle was living, this, this was doing the goddamn milk run.
    “Looks like our passengers have arrived,” Bobbie said, looking past Yu.
    Yu looked behind, and saw the Triple Twos stepping across the hangar deck.
    A flash of memory surfaced, of seeing them walking across another hangar deck and climbing aboard a shuttle destined for Masoul Actual, at a time when he hadn’t known them that well.
    He waved, biting down his emotions. He’d come to know them all very well, which made seeing that there were three Troopers missing hurt all the more.
    Some of the Triple Twos waved back.
    Yu turned and wandered up to the cockpit where Young was checking her downloads on one screen and her diagnostics on another.
    Yu heard Bobbie close another work space and move to the power plant under the cockpit, his final check.
    The Troopers walked across the cargo decking, dropping bags and setting up their gear, and the hatch remained down, trying to get the last bits of fresher air inside the freighters.
    Bobbie came out of the power plant and mechanical center of the freighter.
    “Got room for our weapons?” Zukic asked, dragging a large green locker with him.
    “Right over here,” Bobbie guided Zukic, Mark, Dooks, Holm and Bairamov to deposit their lockers in compartments under the decking; once secure they looked like nothing but real flooring, but within them they held the entire platoon’s weapons, and a hefty amount of ammunition.
    Thankfully no one would be finding out that surprise, or the others built into the freighter, until the carriers were in the Harmony controlled planets and asteroid belts’ orbits.
    Moretti entered through the hangar’s air lock, wearing a ragtag space suit and duster combo like the rest of them.
    Yu, Young and Bobbie had put theirs into storage as they got