When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (28 page)

             
The two team leaders walked close to Josh on their return, brainstorming ideas for their next move. The squad paused when an enormous explosion shook the ground. Josh looked over the top of the canyon wall and saw a pillar of smoke rising far to the East. Plan C had been a last resort the XO had established after a night raid nearly crippled the company. Mines, mortars and grenades were strung all around the camp, all facing in. Should the unit fall, any enemy caught inside the base would be killed when the failsafe trigger activated.

             
“So wha
t’
s the plan, boss
?”
Dax asked.

             
Josh let out a breath h
e’
d been holding. He looked at his friend, past the bulky composite armor and into the eyes of a young soldier who did
n’
t know what came next. Alex made a less imposing figure in her scout kit, the lighter ceramic plates framing her small body. Both were lost and looking for guidance. As the squad arrived at the rally point, he shoulder his pack and adjusted the straps to make the load more bearable.

             
“We have three more days
,”
he said
.“
In less than a week, this operation is over, and w
e’
re back at Camp Noble hoping the boredom does
n’
t kill us. W
e’
ve survived this long by avoiding the big risks. Now i
t’
s time to go big
.
”

             
Dax spoke up
.“
Delt
a’
s gonna know w
e’
re coming when their section does
n’
t report
.
”

             
Josh smiled
.“
Then le
t’
s not keep them waiting
.
”

*              *              *              *              *

              The observation platform
Seraph Three
floated over the battlefield. Powered by seven gravitational disruptors, the disk housed a hundred cameras that monitored and recorded every event in its designated piece of sky. The dozen technicians aboard ensured that no moment went by without significant analysis. It was an exhausting effort that paid off with refined training techniques for the soldiers, and a stronger military in combat.

             
Aside from the myriad of generals and politicians aboard the craft, several contractors and civilian engineers watched the spectacle. In the last decade, watching the games had led to astounding developments in body armor and weaponry. Andrew Manton, the CEO of Manton Industry, stood front and center at the bay window. He drank scotch from his personal reserve while chatting with several prominent generals. His aide, a sultry olive-skinned woman, stood nearby to take down any notes her boss thought up.

             
The atmosphere on
Seraph Three
was less professional and more casual. A wet bar in the center of the platform served a modest selection of alcohol, while several television screens displayed the action as seen from the other observation crafts. The presence of the politicians and civilians put the career military men in a friendly state of mind. They gossiped, joked about matters of security, and made gentleme
n’
s agreements regarding the next weapons development projects.

             
Across the room, seated on one of the plush couches near the bar, Sasha Otravlyatovich rested his eyes. Hours of watching the battles unfold left him weary, but he could
n’
t allow even the briefest respite. The scar that ran from his left brow down to his cheek pained him, and the glass of vodka in his hands did little to help. H
e’
d been to a wargame before, years ago, but nothing like this. Back then, you had to walk the dirt with the soldiers, often missing key moments in the fight while hiding from enemy fire. It was a gritty, often terrifying experience, but invaluable in the training and selection of top soldiers. This immense battlefield presented an unmatched opportunity to hone the skills of the Terran Arm
y’
s finest. It was last place h
e’
d expected to be invited.

             
Markov Ivanovich sat nearby, smoking a disgusting brown cigarette. How he could stomach them, as a doctor, Sasha would never understand. The elder Martia
n—
no amount of political bullshit would make him accept
Terra
n
—
scratched at his mustache and watched the young physician with mild interest. Markov was light-skinned and attractive, with jet black hair and amber eyes. To have achieved a doctorate at such an age had left him understandably arrogant. Sasha found his both intriguing and off-putting. Men like that created problems, and Sasha always seemed to find himself at the epicenter. It seemed he was looking for another war to fight. Sasha downed a shot of ice-cold vodka and grimaced.

             
“The sergeant from Alpha is certainly worth a look
,”
Sasha said. He had no idea what Markov was looking for, just that he was there to see...
something
.

             
The young doctor shook his head, never taking his eyes of the monitor.

             
Sasha rolled his eyes and poured another shot
.“
Or just ignore me, that is also good
.
”

             
“Always so sour
,”
a voice said from behind. Sasha turned slowly, feeling his blood temperature rise
.“
I would think a change of scenery might ease that temper of yours, Sasha. Although this moon is the same color as the last one you were on, right
?
”

             
The old soldier sneered. Brent Kerrigan, a diplomat from Mars, grinned in response. He played with his expensive silver tie as he talked, showing off the clothing that ill-gotten cash could buy. His jacket was neatly pressed and tailored to fit. His teeth were perfect, a fact he displayed as often as possible. It was possible the shimmering crimson suit cost more than the platform in which they sat.

             
“Kerrigan
,”
Sasha said
.“
I expected Jonah to send someone to watch the games, but how he managed to remove you from his ass in time eludes me
.
”

             
“Manners, Sasha
,”
Markov said, joining the conversation. His own crumpled jacket and slacks looked all the more frumpish compared to the diploma
t’
s attire
.“
Brent is a guest of Counsellor Fogwell. We must be respectful, no matter how poor the politicia
n’
s taste
.”
He stood and offered a hand
.“
Dr. Ivanovich. W
e’
ve met before
.
”

             
Brent took the hand and shook hard
.“
The Red Hammer remembers those who show respect, doctor
.
”

             
Markov squeezed Kerriga
n’
s hand tight
.“
And they forget the places they are no longer welcome
.
”

             
“
I’
m surprised you passed through security
,”
Sasha said
.“
The Travelers Administration must be relaxing its standards
.
”

             
Bren
t’
s smile showed a crack
.“
And
I’
m impressed the
y’
d let an alcoholic traitor show his face in a civilized system. Especially a face like that
.
”

             
He was up and moving before Brent had a chance to react. Sasha grabbed the man by his lapel and slammed him into the glass window. The young man recoiled as the Martian leaned in closer, his scarred face inches away.

             
“Maybe you forget I earned this mark serving your master, you ungrateful dog
,”
he spat
.“
Jonah forgets who trained him in starting a revolution. He wants to keep fighting because i
t’
s the only thing he has anymore, and he does
n’
t care who he has to kill to do it
.
”

             
“Jonah just wants what you fought for. Even if all you retired warhawks gave up the chase, he never did
.
”

             
“No
,”
Sasha said, his grip tightening
.“
He wants blood. We wanted freedom. And we earned it
.
”

             
Brent struggled against the surprisingly strong older man
.“
You lost
.
”

             
“And yo
u’
re the ones to set things right
?
”

             
A security guard walked over, placing his hand on Sash
a’
s shoulder
.“
Is there a problem here
?
”

             
Sasha released Bren
t’
s jacket, letting the smaller man down to the ground. He took a step back, his face still red
.“
There will come a day when your sins catch up to you, Kerrigan. And I will be there
.
”

             
Brent smoothed out his clothes and flashed his signature smile
.“I’
m looking forward to it, Sasha.
I’
ll let Jonah know you send your regards
.”
He walked away toward the Counsellor, who had missed the entire ordeal. The guard walked back to his post.

             
Markov walked over to his companion, dropping his cigarette in a nearby plant pot
.“
Are you all right
?
”

             
Sasha rubbed at his graying hair
.“
Just a veterans reunion
.
”

             
“Would
n’
t he have been a child during the rebellion
?
”

             
The older man nodded
.“
But he thinks of himself as a revolutionary. They all do. Tha
t’
s why they are so dangerous. They think the way I once did. That society hates us
.
”

             
“Not everyone
,“
Markov said
.“
Just you
.”
He patted his new friend on the back
.“
I bring you along to watch the fighting down there, and all you do is start fights up here
.
”

             
“He started that one
.”
He followed the doctor back to the couches and sat down
.“
Besides, I do
n’
t even know what yo
u’
re looking for
.
”

             
“Not looking
.”
Markov leaned over and handed Sasha his tablet. On the screen, a young soldier ordered his squad to move toward the enemy base. The powerful camera zoomed closer, until the name
RANTZ
could be seen stenciled on the back of his armor
.“
Found
.
”

-                           
IV                            -

November 21, 2236

              Jerry arched his back and grimaced. His doctor recommended he get at least an hour of exercise a day to stretch out his compressed spine. The problem was
n’
t his motivation; he always felt better after taking the time to work out. The main obstacle was a job that required he sit at a desk for sixteen hours and yell at people over the phone. Add to that a forty-minute commute from his house in morning traffic and you had a recipe for chronic back pain.