Gateway (Gateway Series Book 1) (5 page)

Then another. And another.

As the first figure moved toward Stone, he recognized the unmistakable walk. The long, red hair bouncing back and forth in a ponytail was a dead giveaway too.

It was Captain Emily Martin and a platoon of her men.

“Captain Martin!” shouted Stone. “You could have let us know you were there before.”

“No time, Sir,” smiled Martin. “Besides, we wouldn’t have been able to get all of them if I hadn’t let them get out in the open.”

“Where’s the transport?” asked Lowstreet.

“Had it dip behind the clump of trees about four kilometers away along with the Hawk gunship in case we needed it,” reported Martin proudly.

“Good job, Captain,” acknowledged Stone. “Now let’s get the transport back and get out of here so we can get the cruiser out of orbit. This planet is crawling with Ters.”

***

As the troops buckled up in the transport for the return to
Sprite
, Stone saw Sergeant Kilgore smiling at Martin.

“What the hell are you looking at, Sergeant?” she demanded.

“Nothing, Ma’am. Just wanted to let you know that we may have found some competition for you down there in the Wilderness,” answered Kilgore, his smile growing as he glanced over at Lowstreet.

“What are you talking about?” she asked again, looking a little more irritated.

“Well, Ma’am, you’re no longer the only female to kick LT’s ass, and this one was only a farmer,” blurted Kilgore as he erupted into laughter at his own personal joke.

While the veteran Kilgore tormented Lowstreet and irritated Martin, Stone contemplated the success of the mission. He had uncovered a major Terillian operation and solid evidence of a violation of the Accords. His men had performed well, too. Stone only wished he could say the same for himself. He had lost the focus of his mission and placed Kilgore’s and Lowstreet’s lives in unnecessary danger. He still could not put his finger on what had driven him to investigate the slavers, and was equally unsettled about how the Terillian woman had distracted him.

Either way, they had made it back with valuable intelligence and, with the timely help of Martin, racked up a substantial body count. He could not focus too much on the past. There would be many more missions to come.

Chapter 4

Sitting in his stateroom onboard
Sprite
, Stone stared at the blank data screen in front of him. He hated paperwork of any kind and fitness reports were by far the most frustrating. Taking a sip of whiskey as he opened up the regimental record database, he prepared himself for the hours of tedium ahead of him.

“More elitist First Family shit,” he said to himself as he opened up the first record. Emily Martin had perfect scores of ten in tactical skill, leadership, fitness testing, loyalty, and combat performance. Unfortunately, due to her family’s status she could only receive a score of five in last category—suitability for major command. Even more frustrating, the final category was worth 20 points, skewing the entire fitness report.

An sigh escaped his lips as a yellow light illuminated at his desk, alerting him that someone was requesting to enter.

Stone activated the door mechanism. “Come in,” he shouted with his back to the entrance.

“Major Stone, do you have a moment?” asked Captain Arilius Tacitus.

Stone motioned for Arilius to enter. “Have a seat, Captain.”

As Arilius pulled a chair to Stone’s desk, the major pulled another glass from his top drawer and poured a drink for the captain. “How are things going, Captain?”

Arilius took the glass and, after a healthy drink, spoke. “Morale and efficiency are high throughout the battalion. Have you heard anything regarding our next mission?”

“So you came to get some information?” smiled Stone. “Not getting anything from your well-placed relatives?”

“They are always telling me things,” said Arilius dryly. “Unfortunately they are not military men and have no idea what is important and what is not. Besides they are too busy trying to elevate their position as all of Alpha Humana jumps on the war bandwagon. New regiments and brigades are being formed daily. Uncle Herodices informed me that two battle groups from the Dorans arrived at the Gateway and are conducting independent operations at the edge of the Dark Zone.”

“So you do get some good intel from your connections,” replied Stone as he held his glass to his lips.

“Some,” smiled Arilius as he took another drink.

“Things are moving fast,” replied Stone. “It’s only been a few weeks since the Sierra 7 mission and the whole planet is ratcheting up for war.” After a slight pause and another drink he continued. “I understand the need for rapid mobilization but we’re going to pay for it in the short term. New recruits are undisciplined and have no idea what they are in for. And new units mean new commanders. These positions won’t just be filled by career officers but political appointees as well.” Stone paused again, lowered his drink slightly, and smiled at Arilius. “No offense to the political elite.”

“None taken,” said Arilius. “Most of them are idiots.”

“They will cost lives but I fear it is inevitable in the political-military structure of Humana society. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Astra’s father tried to obtain a field grade commission for one of his teenage nephews.” 

“Maybe,” said Arilius with a wry smile.

“Don’t tell me he already has,” replied Stone as he unintentionally allowed his glass to overflow. “Damn it,” he laughed. “Look what you’ve made me do.”

“You can’t blame me for what the Varus family does,” replied Arilius, his grin growing larger.

“You definitely know something.”

“I know nothing about Dominotra’s nephews,” answered Arilius, still holding his playful smirk. He took another drink and swallowed loudly followed by a satisfying “Ahhh” Arilius placed the glass on Stone’s desk. “Enough about Varus family politics,” he continued. “I’m sure you will soon have your fill of that. Have you caught the new media links? They are really focusing on Terillian belief in primitive religion as a foundation for their aggressive nature. One report made links between their religious zeal and the illogical beliefs of our ancestors during the religious wars.”

“Zealots or not,” replied Stone. “The Scout Rangers are more than competent warriors.”

“Speaking of warriors,” smiled Arilius, “I also saw another presentation on Agrippa Lucius Stone and the battle of Echo 10.”

“It figures they would bring him up.”

“Well your great-great-grandfather was one of the heroes of the last war. And you seem to have fared pretty well carrying such a common name.”

“I guess he went a long way to make up for my ancestor marrying a commoner,” replied Stone, a little irritated.

Arilius realized he may have said too much. “Regardless, the Stone name seems to be on the comeback.”

“Enough to be a political tool for the Senator Dominotra Varus,” said Stone as he threw back another drink. “And besides, it’s more about the Lucius family erasing the Stone part of my line. It’s like every one of my ancestors since Martin Stone have been trying to bring honor to the Stone name in order to have it absorbed by the Lucius—and now Varus—families.”

“It is a good move for them,” said Arilius in a matter-of-fact manner. “The Varus family has always been powerful and influential, but they are not warriors. Dominotra knows that is what has kept his family out of the ProConsul’s chair.”

“I guess that’s where I come in—a decorated warrior from a line of warriors,” Stone replied as he held his glass up in a toast to no one.

“It will add military credentials to the Varus name. I’m sure Dominotra envisions his grandson sitting as ProConsul.”

“A Stone sitting as ProConsul—I don’t think I’ll live to see that.”

“Not a Stone…” said Arilius, “…a Lucius-Varus.”

“True. Stones can defend the planet, they just can’t rule it.”

“Pretty much. But I don’t think you have much to complain about, Sir. With all the political bullshit comes the Lady Astra.”

A reminiscent smile replaced the frustration that had been growing on Stone’s face. “I guess you have a point there. Even though she can be a handful.”

“I’m sure she can,” laughed Arilius. “But what a pretty handful.”

“Astra is ambitious and can be an overbearing…but she is intelligent, exciting, and one of the most beautiful women on the planet. I guess if you had to have baggage, it might as well be pretty baggage.”

“Pretty, indeed.”

“And a challenge,” smiled Stone as he took another sip, “And you know how I like a challenge.”

Their discussion was cut short by the ship’s announcing circuit. “Major Stone, your presence is requested in Colonel Hastings’s stateroom.”

“I guess it’s last call,” said Stone, just before polishing off the rest of the whiskey in his glass.

“Enjoy your chat with the colonel,” smiled Arilius.

Stone looked puzzled. “You know something, don’t you?”

“I know nothing, Major,” replied Arilius as he sipped his whiskey. “You shouldn’t keep the colonel waiting. I’m sure it’s important.”

***

Standing outside Colonel Hastings’s office, Stone wondered why he had been called at such an hour. Rumors spread like viruses in the fleets and he had at least ten outlandish stories running through his head when the light outside Hastings’s door turned from red to green, signaling he could enter.

“Request to enter, Sir!”

“Come in, Stone. Have a seat.”

As he sat in front of Hastings’s desk, he noticed stacks of personnel files on his desk and flat screens displaying officer profiles. He also noticed the harried look on Hastings’s face as he spoke.

“Now that we’re in a real war, as the politicians call it,” said Hastings, still shuffling papers and scrolling through data screens, “we have been directed to make significant changes to the structure of our special forces.”

“What do you mean, Colonel?” asked Stone, realizing he was squirming in the chair that had suddenly become very uncomfortable.

“The Elite Guard is to be temporarily reduced to one regiment. Our brilliant leaders in the Forum and High Command feel that, as we move to a more conventional war, the role of clandestine operations will be diminished and that our experience will be of better use if spread throughout our rapidly growing ranks.”

“How is it to be done? Who is staying?”

“The majority of field grade officers will be transferred to regular units. Our captains will be split between regular units and staff duty to support new commanders. Our junior officers will be detailed to new regiments to create scout reconnaissance units embedded at the regimental level. Our enlisted will be transferred to training commands, offered temporary commissions—if their family standing warrants—or act as senior enlisted advisors to new officers.”

“Which regiment is staying?” asked Stone again. He was trying not to be disrespectful or seem anxious, but was failing miserably.

“The 1st will remain intact.”

A wave of relief flowed over Stone. He would stay with his men.

“Except for you,” continued Hastings.

Stone felt his stomach tighten. “But Colonel—”

“It’s not my decision, Major. You can thank your political connections for your good fortune.”

“Good fortune, Sir?” said Stone, rising from his chair. “How is losing my command good fortune?”

“You may be losing your battalion, Stone, but you are gaining a regiment.”

“A regiment? I can’t command a regiment as a major. It’s—”

“I know, not in accordance with regulations. That’s probably why your soon-to-be father-in-law somehow obtained a colonelcy for you.”

“A colonelcy? I don’t…”

“Well, it’s done, and you will be given a standing unit,” stated Hastings, with what Stone realized was a bit of jealousy. Hastings had served in the Guard for thirty-five years and was still one of the best soldiers in the unit. His family status was not much better than Stone’s, however, and he was the first in his family to gain true military honors. In one giant leap, Stone had jumped past the rank of Senior Major and straight to Colonel. Furthermore, he was to be given a standing unit, not one of the mobs of new recruits.

“Which unit, sir?”

“The 25th Air Assault. Not a bad unit; they actually have some limited combat experience. They took part in putting down that revolt of miners on Alpha Satellite 12 about five years ago. They weren’t facing Scout Rangers, but at least they know what it feels like to be shot at.”

“Sir, I am grateful for the opportunity, but can I—”

“No, you cannot turn down the assignment,” blurted Hastings. “The political wheels are turning and they are taking you to high places, son. You’re a Colonel of the Line now and I’m sure with your talent and your new family’s connections I’ll soon be saluting you.”

Hastings paused in what Stone interpreted as a moment of reflection on what could have been. Stone knew Hastings should be a general, but it would never happen.

“Your orders are prepared and a transport is ready to take you to the Twenty-Fifth’s headquarters back on Alpha Humana. I have temporarily assigned you an aide until you can pick one from your unit. He will be waiting for you outside your quarters with your uniforms.”

“Sir, I don’t know what to say,” stammered Stone. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“Don’t worry, Colonel,” replied Hastings in a calming voice. “Just keep in mind the slings and arrows of the battlefield are usually much easier to avoid than the intrigue of politics. Watch your backside on the field and at home. Good luck, Colonel Stone.”