by Brian Dorsey
Cold Planet
A Gateway Universe Story
Brian Dorsey
Copyright © 2016 by Brian Dorsey
www.briandorseybooks.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission from the author.
Glossary
The following glossary is provided for those unfamiliar with the Gateway novel series. More information on the series and the Gateway Universe in general is available at www.briandorseybooks.com
Alpha Humana: The most remote planet in the vast Xennite Empire.
Elite Guard: Alpha Humana’s most elite military unit. Since the Peace Accords, the Elite Guard has carried out a clandestine war against the Terillian Scout Rangers in the Neutral Quadrant (commonly called the Dark Zone), the Demilitarized Zone between the Xen Empire and the Terillian Confederation.
First Families: Ruling elite of Alpha Humana. 150 families control all land on the planet and select representatives to the Senate which serves as the ruling body under control of the ProConsul.
Gateway Station: Communications station on the Humani side of the Neutral Quadrant. It controls a vast series of satellites and smaller stations that act as an early warning system if the Terillian’s were to enter Xen space.
Neutral Quadrant: Also known in common language as the Dark Zone. Many of the planets in this quadrant were devastated by the long war and with the signing of the Peace Accords, the rest fell into decay. Their original names replaced with alpha-numeric identifiers during the Accords, dozens of habitable worlds fell under control of warlords, tyrants, and mercenaries. Others still try to scrape out an existence while at the same time defend themselves from raiders, slaver traders, and would-be rulers in the now isolated section of the galaxy between the two superpowers. Although no large military operations are authorized as part of the Accords, both the Xen (through the Humani Elite Guard) and the Terillian Scout Rangers have carried out a clandestine war against each other for generations with the Dark Zone.
Peace Accords: Cease fire signed by the Xen Empire and the Terillian Confederation over 150 years ago. It created the Neutral Quadrant.
Praetorians: The ProConsul’s personal military unit.
Scout Rangers: The Terillian Confederations most elite unit and sworn enemies of the Humani Elite Guard.
Terillian Confederation: Historical enemies of the Xennite Empire, particularly the Humani civilization.
Xennite Empire: An alliance of three civilizations under the rule of the Xen Emperor. These civilizations are the Xen, the Dorans, and the Humani.
Chapter 1
Lieutenant Emily Martin turned her head away from the force of the transport’s thrusters and closed her eyes against the stinging cloud of dirt enveloping her and her platoon.
The loud thud of the ship impacting the ground followed by the spinning down of the thrusters, signaled to her they could move. “Load up!” she ordered to her men over the rumble of the idling transport’s engines.
Stepping into the transport did little to improve the environment as the gritty, airborne dirt of Sierra 7 was replaced by the smoky haze of the engines’ exhaust filling the troop compartment. Martin ignored the burning sensation in her nose as she walked mechanically to an open seat in the troop compartment, slamming herself into the chair with a groan of frustration “1st Platoon onboard,” she grumbled into the intercom.
“Good mission, LT,” yelled Corporal Shara over the thrusters as they again began to roar.
Martin glowered at Shara. A typical Elite Guard soldier, Shara was well-trained, dedicated, and enthusiastic. But not self-critical thought Martin.
“What’s so good about it, Corporal?” she replied coldly.
“Well, Ma’am,” replied Shara, not understanding the question was rhetorical. “We did—”
“Let’s stop talking about what we did,” interrupted Martin abruptly. “Instead, let’s talk about what we didn’t do.”
She unlocked her restraint and stood, balancing her body as the transport bounced and rattled toward the upper atmosphere. “Everybody listen!” she shouted. “We didn’t set up a good perimeter for the entry team. Frederick and Moore, you guys left an uncovered lane so damn big I could have driven a hover tank through it. And we didn’t act quick enough to block in those Rangers—Rogers and Young—that’s probably why second platoon took those casualties. And we didn’t police our camp the first night in the Red Moss Fields. I found an empty food pack and a half-used medical bag; we might as well leave a map for the Ters.”
“LT,” interrupted Yates, her platoon sergeant.
“We didn’t…” she continued with a short, cold glance toward Yates. “…attack aggressively enough when we hit that last Ranger platoon. If we had our shit together, we wouldn’t have needed to call for support.”
The compartment was silent except for the low rumble of the engines as the vessel pulled out of the planet’s atmosphere.
“Anybody else want to pat themselves on the back?” she challenged her platoon.
Again silence.
Convinced she had shamed her men enough, Martin sat back in her chair and returned to critiquing her own actions. She’d hesitated before redirecting Frederick and Moore into better position. She’d almost stepped on a damned viper in the Red Moss Fields because she was watching the forest without looking where she was stepping periodically. And her platoon just hadn’t performed to the level she expected of them.
“A word, Lieutenant Martin,” asked Sergeant Yates, bringing her out of her haze of self-criticism.
“What is it, Yates?” she asked briskly.
“Away from the men, if possible, ma’am?”
“Fine,” huffed Martin as she again unhooked her restraint and stood. “Cargo hold two,” she ordered and started walking.
“Yes, Ma’am,” replied Yates.
Martin walked quickly toward the cargo hold. Slamming her hand over the access panel to open the door, she stepped inside and turned toward Yates. “What’s so damned important, Yates?”
“Ma’am, request to speak free—”
“Seriously, Yates,” she interrupted. “I’m not one of those First Family assholes. Say what you’re gonna say and if I think it’s B.S., I’ll tell you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” replied Yates with a slight shake of his head. “Lieutenant Martin, you’re an amazing warrior, probably one of the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes,” acknowledged Martin. “What’s the point?”
Yates inhaled deeply. “Okay. You’re a great warrior but you’ve got a lot to learn about leadership.”
“Really?” she replied. She could feel her face growing warm.
“Ma’am, I’m just—”
“Seems like the Mt. Castra Academy thought I was a good leader. Seems like Major Stone thinks I’m a good leader. Seems like—”
“Damn it, Lieutenant!” shouted Yates. “Will you please just shut your mouth and stop trying to prove you’re the best at everything for five minutes and listen for once.”
Martin saw red. “Did you really just say that?” she asked as a wave of anger washed over her.
“I did,” replied Yates. “How long have your been in the Guard, Lieutenant?”
“Two years,” she answered angrily.
“And how many missions?”
“Three.”
“I’ve been in the Guard for 22 years and have completed close to 50 missions. Don’t you think
I might, just maybe, have something to say that is worth your time?”
Still seething, she rested her hands on her belt. “What then?”
“In those 22 years I have seen my share of hot-headed, pissed off, common-family officers with chips on their shoulder come and go?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
“It means they’ve either gotten themselves killed or flushed out if they didn’t get it.”
“What the fuck is ‘it’?” she asked.
“It, Lieutenant Martin,” answered Yates, “is the difference between being a great fighter and a great leader. Like I said, you’re good, maybe the best natural warrior I’ve seen…”
‘A good start,’ Martin thought to herself.
“…but you’re not a private. You’re an officer and you need to learn that leadership isn’t just about being the first, fastest, and loudest all the time.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” replied Martin with frustrating shake of her head. “If you’re the best then you need to be the first one there and the fastest is the first one there.”
Yates let out a long, labored breath before continuing. “It doesn’t matter if you’re the first one there if you turn around and no one has followed you…then you’re just some asshole on a hill by yourself.”
“Then everyone else needs to speed the fuck up.”
“No,” stated Yates to Martin’s surprise. “You need to realize leadership isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon and a team marathon at that. Even if you’re fastest, sometimes you have to turn around and come back to help the slower ones. If you show them you care about the team, about them, then you’re all running the same race. That’s when you’ll really see what they can do.”
“Well,” retorted Martin, “if they show me what they can do, then I’ll trust them.”
“You’re not getting it, LT,” sighed Yates. “It’s not them that need to prove themselves.”
Martin wished she had stayed in the troop compartment. “Look, Sergeant,” she replied after letting out a long breath. “These guys took the same Oath I did. And they are Humani so they definitely understand hierarchy.”
“Yes, Ma—”
“So…” interrupted Martin again, “…they need to get their shit together. When they do that, I’ll back off.” She paused for a second as she stared into Yates’ eyes, her mouth curled in anticipation of a response that didn’t come. “Good. We’re done here,” she concluded as she stepped toward the exit. She felt Yate’s hand on her shoulder. “I said—”
“Just one request, Lieutenant,” asked Yates.
Martin saw a determined expression replace the frustration on Yate’s face. “That’s all I’m asking…I’ve dropped the ball with them. Been too soft. I take full responsibility,” he conceded. “I’ll ramp it up and get them up to your standards.”
“Well that’s your job isn’t it?”
“Yes, Ma’am. And I’ll do it.” He stepped toward Martin. “Just like I’ve done since I was given my first squad 17 years ago.”
“Good,” acknowledged Martin, hoping the conversation was over.
“But—”
“Damn it, Yates,” exhaled an exasperated Martin. “What now?”
“Let me correct them. Tell me if they’re not meeting your standard or if I miss something and I’ll fix it—not you—me. You just give the orders and I’ll make sure they follow them quickly, efficiently, and effectively. Do this and I’ll make 1st Platoon a platoon you can be proud to call your own…but let me do it.”
“Fair enough,” replied Martin, partially out of exhaustion and partially from her happiness at Yates willingness to step up. “Can we be done now?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Martin returned to the troop compartment and took her seat. As she locked in her belt, the frustrated young officer looked over to Corporal Ibri and his war dog, Daemon. The size of a mountain wolf and bred for war, the massive dog sat silently waiting for its next order. ‘If only more soldiers were like him,’ she thought to herself.
Her attention was drawn back toward the entrance as Yates returned. She looked up toward the platoon sergeant as he scanned the compartment.
“All sergeants meet me in the cargo hold on Draxius 30 minutes after off load,” ordered Yates. “And you will be prepared to tell me what you’re gonna do to unfuck yourselves after this mission.”
‘That’s more like it,’ Martin thought to herself. Now she could focus on beating herself up.
Chapter 2
Ordered to frigate Mt. Castra from Draxius along with the other officers from Alpha and Bravo Companies, Martin sat restlessly in the briefing room.
She stared at the desk in front of her, trying to ignore everyone in the room. She hated these gatherings—nothing but a bunch of overgrown teenagers and First Family jerks measuring each other’s junk and judging her. And she would undoubtedly be subjected to some sort of torment from Bravo Company’s XO, Senior Lieutenant Hugh Jackson.
“Good job down there, Martin,” shouted Jackson across the low rumble of conversations as the officers waited for Major Stone and his company commanders.
“Very funny, asshole,” she replied. “I mean, Sir.”
“Easy there, tiger,” replied Jackson as he jokingly placed his hands in front of his chest as if he were trying to deflect her words. “That was actually a compliment.”
“Whatever,” she replied.
“What are you bitchin’ about?” asked Lieutenant Desro from Delta Company. “You’re platoon racked up more kills than any other.”
Before Martin could consider the compliment, Jackson interjected.
“She’s just afraid she isn’t gonna be the CO’s pet anymore. Gotta keep Major Stone happy,” he smiled. “You know…daddy issues.”
“Son of a bitch!” shouted Martin as she lunged toward Jackson.
She was almost to him when she felt Desro and Lieutenant Wayne grab her.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“Let her go,” laughed Jackson. “She needs a good spanking.”
Martin saw red. She shifted her weight and broke free of Desro’s hold and quickly grabbed Wayne’s arm and drove him to the floor. “I’m gonna—”
“Attention on Deck!” was shouted across the briefing room as Major Stone and his company commanders entered.
Martin quickly popped to attention and stood like a statue as Stone walked up to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lieutenant Wayne quickly rise to his feet. Her attention quickly shifted, however, when she realized Major Stone was standing next to her. She could feel his gaze as she looked straight forward, still at attention.
“Looks like I missed all the fun,” he declared.
Martin’s heart pounded.
“At ease,” he ordered.
“You might have missed the opening act,” replied Jackson, “but I’m sure Martin will continue to entertain.”
Martin’s fists tightened and her skin grew hot with embarrassment.
Before she could focus her anger on Jackson, a jolt of surprise caused her muscles to tighten and a tingle to rush down her spine as Stone placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Making friends again, Lieutenant Martin,” he asked quietly, leaning in close to her ear.
She stared forward, not wanting to make eye contact even though the group had been placed at ease.
“You’re gonna need to work on that, Emily,” he whispered.
“Shit,” mouthed Martin silently. She had let her emotions override her brain again.
“Despite the festivities,” declared Stone loudly, “we do have some business to attend to. Everyone take your seats.”
Martin took her seat along with the others, still cursing to herself under her breath. She glared across the room at Jackson, who shot back the same smile he usually displayed as he paraded his way through life—the one that both revolted and enticed her at the same time. And to make it worse, she thought he knew it too�
�which only infuriated her even more.
“We were very successful on this mission to the Wilderness,” continued Stone, using Guard slang for Sierra 7. “We gathered some good intel on Terillian efforts to infiltrate the trade guilds in the plains beyond the Silent Plateau. And thanks to Martin’s work in the Red Moss Fields, we made the Rangers pay heavily following their attack on Mathews and Charlie Company.
“How’s Captain Matthews?” asked Desro.
“He didn’t make it,” responded Stone somberly.
‘I should’ve got there faster,’ Martin blamed herself.
“Let us honor the fallen and give up their names to be remembered by the generations,” said Stone as the room of officers snapped to attention. “Captain Shoal Matthews, 2nd Lieutenant Zera Xenarus, Sergeant Schmidt Lane, Corporal Lance Monroe, and Privates Shane Bali, Marcus Nolan, Drake Ming, and Trent Smith.”
Each name hit Martin like a hammer. Regardless of what anyone else thought, if her men—if she—had acted more quickly and aggressively, most of them might still be alive.
“To their honor!” shouted Stone and the group repeated the Elite Guard Oath in unison.
I will stand strong in the face of danger, for my comrades will do the same
I will be unafraid of death for death comes but once and cowardice is forever
I will go close against the enemy, for my will is stronger than his
I will show courage, for it is the one possession that cannot be taken
I will die with pride, for I am fighting for my lineage and my people
I will face death with joy, for I will become immortal-my shining glory never forgotten
Martin’s skin tingled each time she repeated the Oath and the booming echo of the Elite Guard pledge to sacrifice themselves for comrades and their civilization magnified the sensation until she felt a chill rush down her spine from her neck to her toes. The sensation was still present as Martin and the other officers again took their seats.