- Home
- Brian Dorsey
Gateway (Gateway Series Book 1)
Gateway (Gateway Series Book 1) Read online
Gateway is dedicated to the memory of Tyler Ammon, one of my children’s best friends. Tyler’s father (Jeff Ammon, LT, USN) was killed in action in Afghanistan in 2008 and a few months later, Tyler was diagnosed with cancer. Following a long and brave struggle, Tyler lost his battle in 2010. In a way that only military families can understand, the Ammon family is our family, and neither Jeff nor Tyler will be forgotten.
Gateway
Gateway Series Book 1
Brian Dorsey
Prelude
The concussion from another explosion jarred Stone like a punch to his gut.
“Captain Martin,” yelled Major Tyler Lucius Stone over the comms circuit.
‘Almost…there,’ replied Captain Emily Martin. Stone could her panting, her voice strained from running at a full sprint. ‘45 seconds.’
“You’ve got twenty,” shouted Stone over the sound of gunfire.
‘Roger—move your asses!’ Stone could hear Martin yell to her men before her comms cut out.
A round impacted on the boulder beside Stone, peppering him with splintered fragments of rock. Wincing, Stone quickly raised his rifle and drew a bead on the first Terillian that came into view. Three rounds thundered from his rifle and his opponent crumpled to the ground.
‘Are they in position yet?’ asked Lt. Hauser, another of his subordinates, through the comms link. ‘Team two is ready.’
“Stand—”
Another grenade exploded nearby, showering Stone and his men with splinters, leaves, and dark, gritty sand. “Standby,” he yelled into the comms circuit.
Returning fire, Stone quickly surveyed the situation. His team of four was pinned down—just as Stone had planned. A platoon of Terillian Scout Rangers had his men cornered at the base of a rock formation and were advancing rapidly—too rapidly. But, in their haste to make prisoners or trophies of the vaunted Humana Elite Guard, they’d lost their situational awareness. While the Terillians quickly advanced, Stone’s other men had flanked them and were almost in position to spring their trap.
‘In position,’ shouted Martin over the comms circuit. ‘Standing by.’
“All units, open fire!” ordered Stone.
The already chaotic scene erupted with a crescendo of gunfire as both flanks of the Terillian troops melted away. In a few seconds it was over.
His ears still ringing from the explosions and gunfire, Stone slowly rose from cover to survey the field. Clumps of dirt and debris fell off his uniform, a small cloud of dust rising around him as he shook off the remaining fragments of rock, earth, and vegetation that had covered him during the firefight.
The concentrated fire from Stone’s men was effective; the small underbrush to his front had been mowed down as if a giant scythe had cleared the area of everything living. Strewn among the jagged stumps and scattered leafs were the bodies of several Terillians. A motion of Stone’s hand directed the rest of his team to rise and check for survivors.
“They walked right into that one, sir,” a nearby private boasted to Stone as they walked toward the center of the carnage.
Stone looked down at his ammunition counter. 20 remaining was displayed. A little longer and they would have been throwing rocks at the Terillians. “Easy day, Private,” smiled Stone. It wasn’t really that easy but he figured he didn’t need to let the new guy know just how close it had been.
“Major,” came a voice from behind Stone.
He turned to meet the sound. Captain Martin saluted as she wiped a long line of dirt from her left cheek with her other hand.
“Sir,” she reported. “Thirty-four Ters engaged, Thirty-four kills.”
“Our casualties?” asked Stone.
“One KIA—Lt. Vena, the First Family kid, and three wounded, none serious,” she replied.
“Vena,” repeated Stone.
“Yeah, that black sheep kid from the Vena Family. The one whose daddy made him join to clear his name after that whole relationship-with-one-of-us-commoners thing,” chimed Martin.
Stone knew Vena’s name all too well. He had protested his assignment from the beginning. If Vena had not been from a First Family, there was no way he would have been in the Guard. His combat skills were marginal. His aptitude was always overridden by his pride, and he barely made it through the Guard initiation. In fact, Stone had thought Vena’s father planned for exactly this outcome. A dead son with military honors might have sounded better to the Vena family than one who loved a commoner.
“I know who Vena is,” replied Stone sternly.
“Of course, Sir,” yielded Martin with a nod. “I’ve called for a pickup, and we will have Vena and our wounded out of here in five minutes. I’ll have a team check the Ters for intel as well.”
“Very well, Captain.”
“Sir,” replied Martin as she saluted once again and turned to carry out her duties.
“Emily,” exclaimed Stone as Martin started to walk away.
“Yes, Sir,” replied Martin, turning back toward Stone. As she turned, her auburn red hair, tied up in a tight ponytail, brushed lightly across her face. At just under 177 cm, with a sculpted athletic build, smooth olive-colored skin, and brilliant blue eyes, Captain Emily Martin could rival any First Family heiress with her beauty. But she was too good a soldier to care about such things.
“Anything else, Sir?” she asked.
“Good job getting into position back there. I can always count on you to save my bacon at the last minute.”
“If I had been there any sooner it would have been boring,” she smiled. “And I hate boring. Besides, as soon as we’re all done here, we’re off for rest-and-freakin’-relaxation for the next four weeks,” she said as she put her finger up to her head like a pistol. “Shoot me now,” she joked as she turned and stepped over a dead Terillian.
Chapter 1
Major Tyler Lucius Stone smoothed the long, thick sleeves of his heavy uniform as the shuttle drifted toward the orbiting station. Running his hand down the crisp sleeve of his pressed tunic, Stone noticed the army of lint brazenly advancing across his uniform. While meticulously plucking the invading particles from his sleeve, he felt the coarse fabric of his uniform against his calloused fingers. The rigid cloth immediately reminded him of the unyielding and often frustrating idiots at High Command. Both— dress uniforms and armchair generals—were a pain in the ass. At least the uniforms didn’t get anyone killed.
He missed his fatigues. Humani combat fatigues were designed to feel like a second skin, but dress uniforms retained the coarse, unventilated, and undeniably uncomfortable feel—all in the name of tradition. Every time Stone was forced to wear his dress uniform, it only intensified his hatred of the “military geniuses” that made all of the decisions without a clue of how they would impact him and his men.
“Major Stone,” reported the shuttle pilot over the intercom, “we will arrive at Gateway Station in approximately ten minutes.”
“Very well, Lieutenant,” he replied. “How about you do the inspection and I will fly the shuttle back.”
“Say again, Sir?” asked the pilot.
“Nothing, Lieutenant,” said Stone with a small chuckle. Stone dreaded the administrative and political aspects of his R&R assignment. As a member of the Elite Guard he was much more at home in battle dress, loaded down with ammunition, and covered with the dirt and grime of the field.
“Rest and relaxation…what a joke,” he murmured as he shifted his attention to a second wave of lint that had assaulted his trousers. He let out a grunt of frustration. ‘We can travel across star systems but can’t come up with a lint-free dress uniform?’ thought Stone. The endless inspections, glad-handing, and political niceties were more stressful than
a recon mission deep into the Dark Zone. This inspection of the Gateway Communications Center was the third inspection of the week. Militarily speaking, the Gateway station was probably the most important outpost on the far edge of the Xen Empire and unfortunately for Stone, its strategic position and the station’s proximity to Alpha Humana also made it perfect fodder for inspection teams.
“Standby for final approach,” reported the pilot.
Stone naturally shifted his center of gravity as the shuttle banked to make its approach. As he did, he looked out the window, seeing the star that warmed Alpha Humana. He had spent less than half of his “rest and relaxation” at home. Such was the fate of a soldier, and one he gladly accepted That was especially true when the alternative was dealing with the First Family politics of his fiancée, Lady Astra Varus, and her father, Senator Dominotra Varus. Despite her beauty and intelligence, Stone felt his engagement more a matter of duty to his family because of the social and political rewards it would bring his black sheep branch of the Lucius family.
The jolt of the magnetic mooring lines alerted Stone that the shuttle had arrived. He quickly removed a few more pieces of lint, although it was a lost cause. Smoothing out his sleeve one last time, Stone readied himself for a day of tedious inspection and political posturing.
The shuttle door opened and Stone squinted as his eyes adjusted to the white brightness of the compartment. He surveyed the scene in front of him. The passageway leading to the hangar deck was immaculate. As the passage to the station’s quarterdeck was the first thing visiting politicians and flag officers saw, it was constantly being shined, buffed, and sparkled. Clean beyond any practical purpose and ornately decorated with unit awards, military statues, and hand-woven bunting, the ostentatious display seemed a waste to Stone. As he stepped from the hatch of the shuttle, Stone was greeted by the Gateway Station Executive and the security officer.
“Welcome aboard, Major Tyler Lucius Stone,” reported the security officer. “I am Captain Nathanial Li.”
A well-dressed colonel stood next to Li, impatiently awaiting Li’s introduction.
“Allow me to introduce our Executive, Colonel Cataline Tacitus, patriarch of the Tacitus family,” said Li. Cataline was of average height and build, with a remarkably unforgettable face. Despite his natural plainness, Cataline displayed all the accoutrement of his wealth and power. His hair was well groomed and starting to gray, giving his mane a distinguished salt-and-pepper look. His boots and belt, while within regulation, were clearly designed specifically for him and probably more expensive than Stone’s entire wardrobe. In typical First Family fashion, Cataline stood like a statue awaiting the appropriate response between members of elite families.
“Colonel Cataline Tacitus,” replied Stone. “I am Major Tyler Lucius Stone. I am honored to make your acquaintance.” Although he hated such political uselessness, Stone ended his greeting with a slight bow to indicate the position of a patriarch of a First Family.
“Greetings, Major Lucius Stone,” replied Cataline in all of his self-ingratiating majesty. “How are things on Alpha Humana?”
“Well, Colonel—”
“I have heard,” interrupted Cataline before Stone could reply, “of your recent engagement to Lady Astra Varus. It is quite the talk among the First Families. Senator Dominotra Varus must be happy to add your family’s illustrious military reputation to the Varus political sphere.” Cataline paused. “And it definitely won’t damage your family’s standing, given the indiscretions of your ancestor, Lady Julia Lucius.”
Stone’s disdain for Cataline was growing quickly. “I try to avoid politics, Colonel,” replied Stone calmly. “I, like my ancestors, bring honor to the family through military service.”
Cataline gave a sardonic smile, understanding of Stone’s implied slight. “Yes, of course,” replied Cataline. “Enough about Humani gossip; we should commence the inspection.”
“Yes,” added Captain Li.
Stone could tell Li was happy to break the tension between the two senior officers and get to work.
“We are always happy to have the Elite Guard help ensure our security measures are sound,” added Li.
“No need to blow smoke up my ass,” replied Stone. “Inspections are universally despised except for the administrative idiots at the command level.” Stone did not fail to catch Cataline’s shocked reaction to his all-too-truthful reply.
“Regardless, Major,” interrupted Cataline, allowing his annoyance to show. “Occasional inspections are a key indicator of efficiency and morale.”
“Of course, Colonel,” replied Stone, “but if you train only to pass inspections, you find your command’s efficiency and morale impacted by constantly trying to meet random checklists and metrics that don’t really prepare the men for combat…but I guess non-combatant commands have a different…let’s call it…perspective on things.”
Stone cast a knowing smile toward Li, who was trying not to show too much enjoyment at the not-so-subtle jab at his pompous commander. “Let’s start with a review of the command-directed security checklist then walk through a security drill before inspecting the records. That should give me enough comments to validate my visit. What do you think, Captain?”
“As you wish, Major,” replied Captain Li, returning Stone’s smile.
“So goes the Humana military machine in all its bureaucratic glory,” said Stone. “Let’s get this over with and let you get back to work.”
“Major Stone,” huffed the irritated Cataline “I hope it is your intention to give us a thorough inspection.”
“Always, Colonel,” replied Stone. “The Guard is glad to be of assistance.”
Stone could play the game too, even though he hated it.
***
Captain Li led Stone and Cataline as they toured the control room. The room was full of the normal activity one would expect in a control center for a station tasked with controlling the defense grid for an entire section of the Xen Empire. The green hue from display panels illuminated the individual workstations of the dimly lit room. At the center of the room a massive holographic display screen provided a real-time update of overall satellite grid status as well as other data points ordered up by the watch commander.
“This is the hub of the station, Major Stone,” stated Li. “Since the signing of the Peace Accords with the Terillian Confederation over 150 years ago, Gateway Station has controlled the satellite grid that monitors and controls access to and from the Dark Zone on our side as established in the Accords.”
“Captain,” interrupted Cataline, “the correct term is Neutral Quadrant. Remember, formality is the first sign of a professional officer.”
Before Captain Li could correct himself, Stone interjected. “That’s all right, Captain. For those of us who have been there,” he said with a cold glance toward Cataline, “the Dark Zone describes it pretty damn well.”
Stone had spent the better part of his adult life playing the deadly game of cat and mouse with Terillian Scout Rangers in the undeclared war that had continued between the two sides since the Accords. This clandestine war, combined with piracy and slave trade, the growth of petty warlords, and the utter isolation of the planets in the pseudo-demilitarized zone had utterly devastated what were once vibrant worlds.
The colonel’s face had turned a dark shade of red with both embarrassment and anger. Stone glanced at Li, who tried in vain to contain a smile as he continued the brief.
“The Neutral Quadrant defense grid provides three major functions. First, neutrino sensors monitor for radiation levels to alert us to the presence of large warships or transports performing jumps. Second, directional lasers track the speed of any capital ships and emit electromagnetic pulses to disrupt magnetic fields generated by large warships for trans-system jumps. Finally, the satellite data is linked directly to Alpha Humana command to provide real-time early warning capabilities and provide data bursts to our allies in the Xen Empire via electron spin shift-heavy matter
transmissions of data.”
“This station,” added Cataline, attempting to regain his composure, “provides assurance of Terillian compliance with the Peace Accords, and furthermore—”
“Thank you, Colonel Tacitus,” interjected Stone. “Captain, let’s take a look at your latest security bulletins.” He had no desire to hear the colonel enter into a political speech. He knew the purpose and function of Gateway Station.
“Very well,” replied Li as he directed Cataline and Stone out of the control room and to the communications center.
***
“I understand,” Stone retorted, holding a stack of security documents in his hand, “but Command Security has prepared a new bulletin to update the instruction. Does your Information Officer review the security notice reports daily?”
“He does, but I—”
“We will have him report to you and discuss the message traffic on the new requirement. Sergeant!” interrupted Cataline. “Get Lieutenant Riepan up here.”
While one of the several sergeants at the back of the line scurried off to find the lieutenant, Stone glared at Cataline. “I usually see the officers responsible for each area present at their stations during inspections,” Stone said to Li.
“Sir…” Li paused to give a quick glance toward Cataline. “We, uh—”
“Major Stone,” interrupted Cataline proudly, “do you not think senior officers should represent the station for high priority visits?”
Stone took a long breath, displaying his frustration. “Present, yes. But senior officers rarely have the in-depth knowledge of programs to adequately represent their commands.” Stone paused again to let the comment hit home. “That is, after all, why we have junior officer and senior enlisted. Is it not, Colonel?”
“Major Stone,” Cataline fumed, “I do not think—”
“I am sorry, Sir,” interrupted Li. “I felt I could adequately support Colonel Cataline, so I—”
“That’s fine, Li,” said Stone, stopping him in mid-sentence. “Being a junior officer, it is your responsibility to provide backup to your seniors, regardless of the circumstances.” Satisfied he had made his point, Stone continued, “Never mind about Lieutenant Riepan.”