Uprising (Gateway Series Book 3)

by Brian Dorsey

  Sergeant Graves raised her hand as if she was a student asking a question for lecture. Martin thought this would be interesting.

  “Questions already, Sergeant?” she asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” replied Graves. “Will Shara have his own team?…I’m just asking because I’m guessing it will take a whole shuttle for him, his ego, and his fat ass.”

  “Don’t forget my porn,” added Shara.

  “Paladin Martin,” interrupted Oxia. “Can we please get to the assignments?”

  “Of course, Praetorian. We will have two teams. Alpha Team will be led by Captain Desro and consist of Lieutenant Plaxis, First Sergeant Shara, and—you’re welcome Graves—Sergeant Graves.”

  “And Bravo Team?” asked Oxia.

  “Well, that’ll be everyone else,” answered Martin sarcastically.

  “Who will command?”

  Martin let out an exasperated puff of air. “Lieutenant Messer is the senior officer on that team.”

  “So neither of the First Family officers are in a command position?” asked Oxia.

  Martin saw everyone turn toward Oxia. “This is effectively an Elite Guard unit, Praetorian…and as such, seniority and combat records dictate who commands, not family status.”

  “Is that really common practice—”

  “If you don’t like your assignment, Praetorian, you can always go back to babysitting the ProConsul.”

  The Praetorian stood silent.

  “Good,” continued Martin. “We’ll start going over possible locations to pick up his trail tomorrow, and I’ll expect each team leader to prepare tactical and environmental briefs based on the planets we may be visiting two standard days later.” Martin looked over the group. “Dismissed.”

  The group began to disperse and gather up their gear.

  “Captain Desro, Lieutenant Plaxis, and First Sergeant, I need you three to stick around…more admin crap with your transfers from your units.”

  “Do you need me?” asked Lieutenant Messer.

  “Your paperwork came through this morning,” replied Martin. “You’re off the hook.”

  “Aye, Major,” replied Messer. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he added with a salute before joining the others leaving.

  “I’m guessing this isn’t about paperwork,” asked Shara.

  “No,” replied Martin. “We need to talk about how we are going to deal with the others.”

  “We might as well start with the privileged elephant in the room…Oxia,” said Desro.

  “How the hell did he get on this team anyway?” asked Shara.

  “Courtesy of the ProConsul,” replied Martin. “He’s our official babysitter.”

  “Well that’s gonna be a problem for us, Ma’am,” said Shara.

  “But one we’re stuck with,” said Martin. “We just need to watch what we say around him, and if possible keep him on the team that will be chasing dead ends.”

  “So that’s the reason for two teams.”

  “Partially. I needed time to get this thing growing,” she said, raising her new hand slightly, “so I had to pick a number for the team that would take a while to reach.”

  “So what about the others?” asked Desro.

  “I don’t know enough about Messer,” said Martin. “But he volunteered and I couldn’t turn him down with his record…Varus would find out and ask questions.”

  “He’s a good officer,” replied Desro. “But I don’t know his politics.”

  “You said we could count on Graves?” said Martin to Shara.

  “We can. I’m just waiting for the word.”

  “The Marine will take some talking, but he will do the right thing,” said Martin. “But we need to wait until we are in the Dark Zone to tell them…I don’t want to take any risks in case we are wrong.”

  “And if they don’t go along?” asked Desro.

  “Then we deal with them,” said Martin, contemplating the possibility of tangling with both Graves and Mack if they didn’t go along with the plan.

  “So what’s our first move?” continued Desro.

  “The decoy team will head to Port Royal. It will get them out of the way while not raising any questions with the ProConsul,” replied Martin.

  “And us?” asked Plaxis.

  “We’re going to meet Stone.”

  “Where?” asked Shara.

  “I’m keeping that right here,” she answered, pressing her finger against her head, “until our first jump.”

  “Then what?”

  “We stay out for a bit, make some periodic reports, and when it’s close to the party starting, we jump back to our side so I can reassure those involved and get ready to make mischief when the shooting starts.” Martin noticed a troubled look on Plaxis’s face. “What is it?”

  “How are we going to deal with the pilot and navigator of our transport?” he asked.

  “I’ll be our pilot and navigator,” replied Martin.

  “You can fly a transport?” asked Plaxis.

  “She can definitely crash one; I can testify to that,” laughed Shara.

  “Let’s hope our future landings are much less exciting than that one,” said Martin.

  “And our support units?” asked Desro.

  “Won’t have any,” answered Martin. “Another benefit of a bigger team: no one should question not having a support unit. And if they do, I’ll just say they would slow us down.”

  “Any more info on the objectives of this…revolt…revolution…whatever?” asked Shara.

  “Not sharing that information yet, First Sergeant. If no one knows all the details, it’s less likely it will be compromised.”

  “Wonderful,” replied Shara. “Kept in the dark…just like the rest of my career.”

  “Then you should be used to it, First Sergeant,” said Martin. “Now, if that’s it, we should call it a night.”

  Plaxis and Shara began to move toward the exit.

  Martin noticed Desro hadn’t moved.

  “What is it, Venny?”

  “You better be right on this one, Emily.”

  “I am.”

  “If you’re wrong or this goes sideways, we’ll be lucky if they just crucify us…not to mention what they will do to our families…”

  “Don’t forget, Venny, our families—our entire civilization—is why we are doing this,” said Martin, placing her hand on his shoulder. She winced, the new flesh on her hand still tender.

  “You better get that hand healed fast,” warned Desro. “I’m thinking you’re gonna need ‘em both soon.”

  ***

  “Next round is on the Corps,” said Shara to Mack as he slammed a mug of beer in front of the Marine, causing a small amount to spill onto the table.

  Mack looked up disappointedly at Shara. “You can sure as hell bet a Marine wouldn’t waste a drop of this fine beverage,” he said with a smile.

  “Fine beverage?” replied Graves. “More like lukewarm piss.”

  “You Guardsmen sure are picky…didn’t peg you for the champagne type, Sergeant,” said Mack, mocking Graves.

  Graves laughed out loud. “Champagne is for those First Family bitches and their wives,” she said before putting the mug to her mouth and emptying it in a series of large gulps. “I’m more of a whiskey girl,” she added, standing to get another drink from the bar.

  “You keep your seat, Sergeant,” said Mack, extending his hand toward Graves. “The Corps can get this one,” he continued, glancing toward Shara.

  “Now that’s inter-service cooperation,” replied Shara. He could feel his face growing warm from the three previous rounds. “I’ll take—”

  “The sergeant said whiskey,” interrupted Mack. “So it’ll be whiskey.”

  “I’ll take a shot of whiskey,” declared Shara, pretending it was his decision.

  “I’ll be back,” said Mack as he stood and left for the bar.

  “He’s an odd one,” remarked Shara.

  “You mean he’s a mature, level-
headed, and professional soldier?” asked Graves, her lip curled and head tilted.

  “Yeah. Exactly. I thought Marines were supposed to be just a step above a merc when they were on liberty.”

  “Well, we can’t all be like you,” said Graves with another smirk before glancing toward Mack. “Besides, I’m sure he was a handful as a corporal back in the day.”

  “Looking for a little ‘hand-to-hand’ with the Master Guns,” joked Shara. As soon as he spoke, Shara winced as Graves punched his shoulder. “Damn, Sarah,” he grumbled. “I was just givin’ ya shit.” Even a half-drunken punch from a Guardsman still hurt.

  “Jackass,” replied Graves. “Sometimes I wonder how you made First Sergeant.”

  “I’m really good at shooting things and blowing shit up,” he replied with a smile.

  “I got something for you to blow.”

  “Dirty,” replied Shara. “And besides, I thought you were saving yourself for the jarhead.”

  He braced himself for the punch he knew was coming.

  This time, Graves drove her fist into his thigh.

  Caressing his thigh under the table, he conceded. “Fine. You win.”

  “Whatever,” replied Graves, feigning anger.

  Shara had known Graves for four years; he knew she liked the ribbing because it was the way the enlisted in the Guard talked to one another. When she first joined, Shara remembered a First Family lieutenant who had treated her with kid gloves…until she broke his nose in a sparring match.

  And he knew she really did want the Marine. Graves wouldn’t touch a fellow Guardsman and rarely found a man or woman she felt up to the task, but when she did, she went after them like a lioness goes after a gazelle. “So…I’m gonna head out after this next round and leave you two kids alone,” he said.

  “Do what you want,” replied Graves. “Makes no matter to me.”

  Shara smiled.

  “Shut up!” she demanded. “Just finish your drink.”

  “You’re the boss, Sergeant,” said Shara, gulping down the rest of his beer. “Happy hunting,” he added as he stood from the table.

  “Where are you going?” asked Mack, standing in front of Shara with three shots of whiskey in his hands.

  “Sorry, Master Guns,” said Shara as he took one of the glasses and threw the shot down his throat. Swallowing again as his body warmed from the whiskey, he continued. “It’s past my bedtime.”

  He glanced toward Graves, who avoided eye contact. “I’ll leave the pillaging to you two tonight.”

  ***

  “Funny,” posed Mack as Shara walked away. “I heard he was a handful on liberty…seems pretty tame to me.”

  “Oh, he has his moments,” laughed Graves.

  She took the glass from Mack and dipped her finger into the whiskey. Swirling her finger slightly, she then placed it in her mouth and sucked it dry as she looked up toward Mack. “Tasty.”

  “I’m sure it is,” replied Mack with a knowing smile.

  “Wanna head out, Master Guns?” she asked.

  “Lead the way,” he replied. “And you can call me Stephen.”

  “No,” she replied before throwing the shot back and slamming the glass onto the table. “I prefer Master Guns.”

  “And what should I call you?” asked Mack, leaning across the table toward her.

  “You can call me Sergeant Graves for now,” she replied, standing and tossing a credit chip onto the table. “But you can call me whatever the fuck you want to in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Ooh-rah,” said Mack with a smile as he stood.

  “Ooh-fuckin’-rah,” replied Graves.

  Chapter 11

  “Let’s hear the numbers,” ordered Stone as he sat across from his commanders. He had been in command of the troops on Kilo 7 for five months, and his plan had slowly begun to win over the population and turn the tide of the war.

  Colonel Scarus stood and pressed a keypad illuminating a 3-D map. “We have stopped all progress of the enemy’s main military forces and have begun to push them back in sectors three and six while holding steady in five. We have also transferred several villages over to local military forces as the enemy is pushed back.”

  “And my brigade has begun to expand to sectors one and four, with very good results,” added General Winterbird.

  “Casualties?” asked Stone.

  “They aren’t very tactically minded, but are fearless. Between First and Third Brigades, we have sustained 105 casualties, including 15 killed in the last three standard weeks, while inflicting approximately two to three thousand casualties.”

  “Civilian casualties?” Stone knew a lot of the fighting had ended up in the villages.

  Scarus selected another button on his keypad and several lights illuminated around various villages on the map. “Several villages in the path of our main push have received moderate damage. Luckily, most were depopulated at the time of the fighting.” Scarus paused. “A few were not so lucky.”

  “What are the numbers?” asked Stone. “Don’t sugar-coat it.”

  “We think casualties are in the low hundreds.”

  “And how many have been moved into safe zones?”

  “We believe close to 30,000.”

  “Our intake numbers support that, Sir,” added Vae. “Last night our total register of intakes was just under 29,000 for the last three weeks.”

  “Internal problems?” asked Stone.

  “We’ve had three attacks within our lines in the last three weeks. Eleven wounded and three killed. The local authorities have also captured about 100 Followers of the Word. Our teams supported three of their raids,” answered Vae.

  “Special Operations?”

  Still seated, Mori activated another key. Several locations on the map illuminated.

  “Scout Rangers from Alpha Company have conducted ten raids internal to the safe zones on both high value and heavily armed targets. All raids were successful with two wounded. We have also responded to three boundary incidents and Bravo Company has carried out six raids in support of First Brigade offensive operation. Total casualties for Alpha are one killed and three wounded.”

  “And how are Captains Rain and Springfall?” asked Stone.

  “They are doing well. Captain Rain has returned to duty and Springfall should very soon.”

  “Good to hear,” replied Stone. “Any word on Maxa?”

  “Nothing since the sniper attack,” replied Mori. “His trail has gone dead.”

  Stone nodded. He had made yet another enemy in Brand Maxa, but he couldn’t think about that too much now. Stone let the numbers provided by his subordinates run through his mind. Attacks inside the safe zone were down, and villagers continued to move into their perimeter for protection. The loss of several villages, and hundreds of civilians, was regrettable, but overall, it could have been much worse. His troops were moving forward, Followers of the Word were retreating, and the villages thought the safe zones were safe. “What about the other sectors?”

  “Although we have little presence there,” replied Winterbird, “we have been contacted by several local authorities and, as a result, have begun to provide technical and logistical support to those resisting the Word. We have also heard rumors of uprisings from within territory under control of the Followers of the Word.”

  “This is good news,” replied Stone.

  “Also, local leaders have reported that significant numbers of inhabitants have come forward and asked to volunteer to join our forces.”

  “Haven’t the local military authorities enlisted them?”

  “Well, Sir,” said Vae, “they have enlisted close to 7,000 new recruits, but these want to fight with us…and not just on this planet.”

  “So they want to enlist in the Akota army?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Stone stood silent.

  “What should we do about them?” asked Winterbird.

  “How many are there?”

  “About 3,000.”

/>   “Son of a bitch,” declared Mori from across the table.

  “That many?”

  “Yes, Sir,” answered Winterbird.

  “Detach Major Juli from Third Brigade. Have him select a company-sized unit to act as trainers for the volunteers. They will be attached to Colonel Vae for administrative purposes. Once we see how they are performing, I will notify the Akota command and request they formally be added to our unit.”

  “Yes, Sir,” replied Winterbird.

  “They have seen the way of their long-lost cousins and want to join us in the Great Circle,” said Mori. “And it is due to your efforts, Magakisca.”

  “You keep this up, Sir,” added Vae, “and our little division will end up a Corps.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” replied Stone. “I’m not even sure we should let them join us. Don’t forget that long after we leave, the locals will still be fighting against the remnants of the Word.”

  “Yes, Sir,” replied Vae.

  “Any oh-by-the-ways?” asked Stone.

  “Yes,” replied Mori. “I will be transferring command to Captain Shay for the next few weeks, as I have a priority mission to complete.”

  “I’d like you to stay behind and discuss your assignment.” Stone knew it was the long-awaited meeting with Martin which Mori was speaking of—a meeting he was supposed to attend.

  Mori nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Now,” continued Stone as he rose to his feet, “if that’s it, everyone is dismissed. Have a good evening.”

  As the last of the officers left the room. Mori moved toward Stone, embracing him. Even though they were in the same command, the last few months had been hectic and both of them had stayed focused on the mission. The two had rarely been alone. He had barely touched her and ached to do so.

  “That feels good,” he said, holding her close.

  “It does,” she replied, looking up toward him. “I wish I could stay here to help finish what you’ve started.”

  “One of us has to meet Martin; she won’t give the information to anyone else.”

  “Are you sure she’ll accept it if you're not there? It’s not like she and I are friends.”

  “She will,” replied Stone. “She’ll have to. I can’t leave my command when we are so close to something tangible here, and you are the only Akota she has met…and not killed.”