Gateway (Gateway Series Book 1) (2 page)

It pleased Stone to throw the political oaf off-step. That’s what he had hoped for with the request. After all, if he had to wear that damn uncomfortable uniform, he could at least share his pain with that jackass Cataline.

“Perhaps tomorrow we could review the protocols,” continued Cataline. “If your inspection included worker access processes, it should have been written in your precept message.”

“I plan to complete the inspection tonight, Colonel Tacitus,” said Stone. “And, as per the precepts, my mandate is to ‘verify security measures are adequate to the level commensurate with the tactical importance of the station.’ I believe that brings worker access under my purview. After all,” Stone continued, “the Gateway Station is the front line defense against an attack by the Terillian barbarians, were they to attack through the Neutral Quadrant.”

“I am sure we can meet your needs, Major,” interjected Captain Li. He had a light sheen of sweat collecting on his forehead and his face was still red from Cataline’s earlier statements. All Li needed was some pompous ass from one of Alpha Humana’s First Families to ruin his reputation.

“The shift turnover begins in an hour,” continued Li. “That would be the best time to view our practices.”

“Captain, I’m not sure that turnover is the most prudent time,” replied Cataline, showing obvious, almost unnecessary, concern.

“One hour it is, Captain,” said Stone bluntly.

‘What was the Colonel’s problem?’ wondered Stone. Li’s suggestion of observing the turnover was not only valid, but showed that he had faith in both his men and the process. Stone assumed Cataline was probably just worrying about looking bad to his buddies at High Command if there were to be negative comments in his report.

***

The turnover of maintenance workers and support personnel was organized chaos. Four thousand military personnel were billeted to the station, who only left for furloughs and leave, but the civilians were a different story. Three shifts of exactly eight hundred and thirty-four personnel transited through the civilian portal of Gateway station daily.

Stone, Li, Cataline, and a line of junior officers and sergeants as recorders monitored the streams of workers as they passed through the checkpoint. Security chips were displayed, retinal scans verified that the correct person had the correct chip, and locator pins were issued to track movement throughout the station.

“Do you have any questions regarding the process?” asked Li as they observed the turnover.

“Seems to be well organized, Captain,” commented Stone.

“Thank you, Sir. If there are any discrepancies, the turnstiles are shut down and all personnel already through report to assembly room seven,” reported Li.

Stone noticed the lights fade as the power grid transferred. After a few seconds, full power returned to the lighting and the terminal processors. The anomaly was not missed by Li either.

“That’s odd,” stated Li. “I will have one of my teams check the power grid and reactor control center.”

“Not necessary, Captain,” directed Cataline. “I authorized transfer station shifting to support maintenance on the executive levels.”

Li’s face again grew red and his head quickly swung in the direction of Cataline. “Colonel Tacitus…sir…power grid shifts during turnover is a bad idea,” said Li, looking embarrassed by the position in which Cataline had placed him. “These tasks should occur during non-peak hours, as is our practice.”

“That had been our normal practice, Captain,” sneered Cataline. “But several key officers and officials have complained that shifts reset their environmental controls and it takes hours to reach homeostasis again. For this reason I have authorized any work that may affect executive levels of the station to be performed during the first shift to allow time for stabilization of environmental controls before leadership retires for the evening.”

“Environmental controls,” barked Stone. “You mean air conditioning and hologram programming.”

Stone was floored. Cataline was allowing major shifts in the station’s power grid in the middle of shift turnover security procedures so he and a few other select elite wouldn’t have to have the temperature of their staterooms vary by a degree or interrupt viewing of home videos of themselves with their mistresses and Recreation Girls. This was definitely going in the report. “Colonel,” Stone added, “I highly recommend you return to your normal practice of grid shifts regardless of what areas are affected.”

Li was staring blankly at Cataline when Stone turned toward him. “You obviously were not aware of this change in policy, Captain?” Stone asked Li.

“No, sir,” commented Li, still locking his gaze on Cataline. “If I had known, I could have had portable power stations connected to mitigate the gaps. Then—”

Li was cut short by the Station’s general announcing system.

Colonel Tacitus, your presence is requested in the Information Center. Colonel Tacitus, your presence is requested in the Information Center
.

Li’s communicator sounded next. ‘
Captain Li, this is the security watch officer, Lieutenant Mosa. I am receiving reports that our network has been compromised and we’re seeing brief losses of input signals from satellite grids X76 and B7 through 10. I have informed Fleet Command and High Command watch officers. Recommend setting condition Alpha and manning all security stations
.’

“Do it. I am on the way,” Li commanded into the communicator as he started moving toward the nearest elevator. “Tell High Command to scramble Alert Package Delta in response to possible degradation of Gateway function. Recommend the Gateway fleet set wartime cruising watch stations.”

“Son of a bitch,” added Li as he and Stone ran toward the elevator, closely followed by Cataline. “If we lose the Gateway, the Terillians could be orbiting Alpha Humana within the month.”

“I will report to the communications room to make a report to High Command after I am finished in the Information Center,” said Cataline as he struggled to keep up with Stone and Li. “Captain…” puffed Cataline. “…Li, I place you in charge of tactical decisions…” huffed Cataline “…keep me informed while I contact Command.” He slowed his pace as the two healthier men drew farther away.

As Stone and Li entered the elevator to the security branch, they heard Li’s orders being carried out throughout the station.

ALL NON-MILITARY PERSONNEL REPORT TO ASSEMBLY AREA SEVEN. ALL OFF-WATCH PERSONNEL REPORT TO YOUR MUSTER STATIONS. NOW SET CONDITION ALPHA. MAN ALL SECURITY STATIONS. ALL PILOTS REPORT TO READY ROOMS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

It would be a long time before Stone would have to worry about inspections and lint again.

Chapter 2

Stone stood in the corner of the crowded and muggy briefing room onboard the light frigate
Sprite
deep inside the Neutral Quadrant. As the Gateway virus continued to deteriorate the operation of the satellites, the Xen Empire had begun to mobilize. Being the closest Xen Alliance planet to the Gateway Station, all Alpha Humana fleets were in route to the Gateway boundary and reserve units had been called into action. But for the Elite Guard, it was business as usual—another secret mission deep in the Dark Zone.

He looked on as flat-panel displays projected data about Sierra 7. Environmental conditions, natural hazards, and climate information flashed across the screens.

Stone did not need to review data slides; this would not be his battalion’s first trip to Sierra 7, or “The Wilderness” as the planet was called to those who had been there and survived. The nickname came from a lack of large civilized settlements and the abundance of various flora and fauna—a large portion of which were poisonous, aggressive, or just plain deadly.

The Intel Officer began the briefing.

“Sierra 7 has a variety of deadly indigenous animals of both reptilian and mammalian species…”

As the Intel Officer droned on, Stone struggled to focus.

“Blah, blah, blah,” whispered Captain Emily Martin as she leaned toward Stone.

Martin continued to talk over the brief. “We’re finally gonna stop dicking around with the Ters and all this jackass can talk about is little fuzzy tree monkeys…seriously.”

“Captain, please?” asked a transport pilot feverishly trying to take notes.

“You actually have to get out of your environmentally controlled cock-pit for any of this to matter,” she shot back. “Just shut up and take your little notes…actually, I’ll give you a hand…”  Martin snatched the notebook out of the pilot’s hand and wrote a note:

1. Drop off the Guard and get my pansy-ass back to the ship

2. Watch some movies, jerk off, watch some more movies, sleep

3. Pick up the Guard

4. Repeat

“There ya go, pumpkin,” smiled Martin as she handed the pad back to the embarrassed pilot. “That’s ALL you need to know about this mission.” 

Stone cracked a little smile. Captain Martin was known throughout the Guard for her aggressiveness, skill, and her inability to control her mouth. In addition to her less than politically-correct attitude, Martin had several things working against her. First of all, she was a woman—and a beautiful one at that. As one of only three women, and the only officer, in the Elite Guard, she was always under a microscope. She had to be smarter and better than the men she was rated against—which she was. Second, she was from a family that had only risen to middling status in the last few generations. When she should have been trying to “marry up” to a higher family, she was crawling through the mud and muck on remote, desolate planets. Despite all of this, she had struggled to gain a reputation as a brave and dependable officer—a reputation she was not afraid to defend with her fists or sword if need be. “Those little fuzzy monkeys are tasty though,” he whispered.

Martin smiled as they turned their attention back to the briefing.

“…The Red Moss fields are visually stunning but pose several dangers. Bright red moss covers the ground for miles, broken by dark-blue pools of water from underground springs. The only trees are Orchid trees with black bark and bright white-pedaled leaves, which constantly fall and replenish themselves. The falling petals rapidly decay on the moss and provide nutrients to both the moss and Orchid trees…”

“Shoot me now,” mouthed Martin to Stone.

Stone made a motion toward the briefing screen in a halfhearted attempt to show concern for what the Intel Officer was saying.

“…Several animals inhabit the fields as well. Albino primates about half a meter tall live in the orchid trees…”

Martin laughed out loud, forcing the Intel Officer to pause and regain his composure.

“…The red fields also provide excellent cover for Red Moss vipers. They blend in almost perfectly with the moss and their venom is potent enough to bring down a sable tiger, or a man…”

“Ugh,” added an exasperated Martin as she lightly, repetitively banged the back of her head off the bulkhead.

“Shhh!” directed a combat system officer in Martin’s direction.

Martin stood straight from her position leaning against the bulkhead and smiled at the complaining officer.  Slowly, she raised her right fist and extended her middle finger to the officer.  Leisurely shifting her smile to a scowl, she returned to her reclined position against the bulkhead.

Martin turned her head back toward Stone. “This is just a freakin’ show for higher-ups who are finally getting their chance at playing soldier. I guess now they are realizing they might actually have to do something for once in their privileged careers.”

***

A light fog crept over the gently flowing river as an occasional flickering reflection of light bounced off the water, hinting that the first star was beginning to rise. The harmonic chirp of a bird could be heard over the light bubbling of the water as it passed over the rocks protruding from the stream. A tiger wasp lay resting on a large leaf, soaking up the first rays of light. In a flash, the wasp disappeared as it became breakfast for the striped dragon lizard on the log below. The lizard, having filled its belly, took its turn in the cyclic flashes of starlight.

Beyond the lizard, a small disturbance formed in the water. A head slowly broke through the surface as the lizard vanished into the undergrowth with a flash of its red tail. The Guardsman’s torso emerged from the water and began moving toward the bank followed by a second, and finally dozens of Guard soldiers. The first wave quickly exited the water and took up defensive positions. Others rapidly stowed their water respirators and vanished into the undergrowth to take up positions as point and flankers.

Stone, water dripping from his camouflaged face, took a deep breath of fresh air. He and his men had been breathing recycled air through their water respirators for over an hour and the damp, clean air felt refreshing. After a quick second to enjoy the moment, Stone called for his company commanders over his communicator. Once they were assembled, Stone gave his orders.

“Captain Tacitus and Alpha Company have already established a defensive position anchored on the opposite bank. Bravo Company will reconnoiter to the North, Charlie to the South, and I will accompany Captain Desro with Delta and move west. If anyone makes contact or retrieves intel, relay back to Alpha who will then relay back to REGCOM for electron spin data transfer to Red Fleet. Rendezvous time will be 1400 in fifteen days. We have support from 2nd Battalion at REGCOM via Hawk attack ships if needed. Follow your instincts and don’t forget Terillian Scout troops aren’t the only deadly things out there.”

“Aye, Sir,” replied Captain Martin of Bravo Company as she tucked the digital map into her pocket. “It’s good to be back in action,” she added as she turned to rejoin her company.

“Hey, Emily,” called out Charlie Company Commander Hugh Jackson as he squatted next to Stone. Leaning on his rife, Jackson was tall and muscular with a shaved head and an out-of-regulation thick black goatee covering his square jawline.

“Bet my company gets more Ters than yours,” taunted Jackson as he looked up toward Martin, eagerly awaiting her reply.

Stone subconsciously stepped away from Jackson as Martin stopped, exhaled, and turned once again to face him.

“Maybe you can find some Ters in the mud,” she said as she gave Jackson a shove with her boot, sending him backwards into a large puddle of mud.

“Damn it!” cursed Jackson as he looked up at Martin.

“Oh, wait, one more thing,” said Martin as she displayed her middle finger to Jackson.

She turned back to Stone. “Sorry for that, Sir, but…”

“Happy hunting, Emily,” interjected Stone.

“Happy hunting, Sir,” said Martin with a smile.

She gave a quick salute and ran off to join her company.

Stone had high hopes for this mission. His men were well trained and ready to get to work, and he was confident of his company commanders as well. Captain Arilius Tacitus was his senior officer and most likely would take Stone’s place should promotion or death create the vacancy.

Arilius was the ideal soldier. He was tall, powerful, formal, and proud. He was also a relative of Cataline Tacitus, so there would be no roadblocks to his career progression. In addition to his family name, he had the rugged look the elite of Alpha Humana idealized. With perfectly cut dark black hair and caramel-colored skin inherited from his mother’s line, he was also one of the most eligible bachelors among First Family daughters. Although Stone did not care for most of the “chosen ones,” as Martin called members of the First Families, Arilius had proven himself to be a skilled officer, having saved Stone’s bacon more than once.

Jackson, still cleaning the mud off his face, had spilled his share of blood for his people as well. Jackson had lost his right hand to a Terillian major and his left eye to a Brackien raider; both had been genetically reconstructed. He had also lost two wives to his love of Montar wine and Recreation Girls. Unfortunately, Captain Emily Martin had been his first wife, and when she caught him with the Recreation Girls he had to have his left eye reconstructed a second time, along with half of his teeth. Stone knew he could always count on Jackson, not only for his abilities in the field but also to lighten the mood when things got too serious.

Captain Venarus Desro had served well as a platoon commander and had been promoted when Captain Colter was killed by a Red Moss viper during the battalion’s last visit to Sierra 7. Desro was pale, tall, and wiry, with his light-brown hair cut high and close. Despite his stature, however, his body always seemed to be tightly coiled, ready to spring into action. Similar to Stone, Desro had connections to a First Family, but his line had long ago been wiped from the Venarus lineage.

Desro had done little to help his status by taking a barmaid for a bride. Stone remembered feeling sorry for Lana, his wife, at the last regimental banquet. The enlisted wives would not speak to her because she had married an officer and the majority of officers’ wives were elitist social climbers always trying to prove their superiority. She had held up well, though, and eventually became good friends with Captain Martin—their mutual hatred for snotty, over-privileged bitches being a common bond.

Confident, but cautious of the mission, Stone took up a position beside Desro as his men fanned into the wilderness.

***

A week had passed since the battalion had dispersed to conduct reconnaissance operations, and Stone was pleased. No contact reports had been received from the other companies and things were going well in Delta. The company had been in the moss fields for a day and a half, and there had been no major problems. Aside from the headaches caused by the toxic red moss and the bites from blood beetles, things were almost going too well. The company was deployed in its normal formation. Second platoon, under Lieutenant Alister Lowstreet, was assigned to the scout patrol operating a thousand meters ahead of the main body.

“Any reports from the other companies?” Stone asked Delta Company’s communications officer.

“Nothing other than required checks, Sir,” the young lieutenant replied.

As he moved along in the formation, Stone strained his eyes to focus. Orchid petals drifted slowly to the ground, partially suspended in air by the constant gentle breeze blowing over the red moss fields. As the petals floated toward the red moss below, the scene reminded Stone of the mid-winter snowfall in the Northern Hills of Alpha Humana. He had warned his men, as he always did, about becoming complacent in the visually stunning environment, but he often found himself being lulled by its deceitful beauty.

‘
Contact two hundred meters ahead
,’ came through the comms link into Lieutenant Lowstreet’s earpiece.

“Terillian patrol; squad size, approaching from 025.”

‘
Roger. 2nd squad, take position for ambush
,’ responded Lowstreet, after activating the command frequency so the Desro and Stone would hear his platoon’s comms. 

2nd Squad took up positions quickly and quietly. In a matter of seconds they had blended into the landscape completely.

***

Lying prone near the trunk of an orchid tree, Lowstreet steeled himself as the noxious spores from the red moss burned his nostrils and throat. His position gave a perfect vantage from which to watch the approaching Terillians. After freezing momentarily to allow a viper to slither over his rifle, he slowly shouldered his weapon and brought the scope to his eye. Through the white haze of the orchid blossoms, Lowstreet saw the Terillian patrol gradually materialize. He gently rubbed his index and middle fingers against his thumb and then placed his finger in the trigger guard and listened over the comms circuit.

‘
Last man
,’ was whispered over the circuit, telling Lowstreet that it was now his call.

Lowstreet selected his target, breathed out his stabilizing breath, and passed the word, “Fire. Fire. Fire.”

With the third order, the field erupted with the sound of gunfire. Out of the corner of his eye, Lowstreet saw a tiger break across the field for cover in a dense copse of orchid trees. He had apparently been lying in wait and had been startled by the Elite Guard depriving him of a meal.