Schism (Gateway Series Book 4) Read online

  “Holy shit,” interrupted Martin.

  “The comms suite includes spin message capability as long as one of the reactors are online and the armor is similar to our main hover tank but reinforced with durumite plating.”

  “How fucking heavy is it?” asked Orion.

  “Heavy,” replied Rickover, “But the weight is offset by an improved reactor design that increases thermal efficiency from .6 to .8 and utilizes a recovery system that captures heat from electrical and ambient losses and returns .14 of these losses to the solid state supplies.”

  “I fucking love you, Rickover,” exclaimed Orion. “I’ve got pilot wood like you wouldn’t believe right now…where is it?”

  “It’s being built…should be ready for its first flight next week,” replied Rickover.

  “So,” continued Stone. “If we’re okay with the ship—”

  “Oh, we’re okay,” said Orion.

  “Then after our time is up, we’ll get back onboard and make the push back to the security gate and then jump to Admiral Crow’s fleet. Once we dock on his flagship, the entire fleet will jump.” He paused to let the group absorb the information. “Any questions?”

  Martin raised her hand?

  “Martin,” acknowledged Stone.

  “So just to summarize…we’re gonna take ten people up against the entire Port Royal defense force using ‘theoretical’,” she said making quotation marks with her hands, “calculations on never-before-tried short range atmo jumps on a prototype ship then grab some assholes and get out?”

  “Pretty much,” replied Stone.

  “Now that’s my kind of mission,” replied Martin.

  Chapter 6

  “Where are they?” demanded ProConsul Astra Varus as she rose from her throne.

  Still looking toward the marbled floor, Sierra spoke. “ProConsul Varus, the information from the communications station provided little information on the whereabouts of either of the traitors…and the Marine knew nothing.”

  “Then why have you returned if you have not completed your mission?” growled Astra. “Every moment you fail me is another moment my Octavius is with those savages.”

  Sierra dropped to one knee, still bowing her head. “I am sorry to have displeased you, my ProConsul, but I felt it necessary to return based on the information we obtained at the station.”

  “What information, Commander?” asked Astra.

  “We found communications indicating a large scale attack on Port Royal will occur in the coming months.”

  “An attack on Port Royal?” interjected General Vispa. “That will take a lot of resources… why would they attack a neutral?”

  “My job is not to ponder politics, General,” replied Sierra. “It is only to do as the ProConsul wishes.”

  “I do not care about Port Royal, Commander,” said Astra as she descended the small stairway from her throne to the main floor. She placed her hand under Sierra’s jaw and gently directed her to stand. As Sierra rose to her feet, Astra tilted the warrior’s head so that their eyes met. “Your only assignment is to find Octavius and kill those that took him from me.”

  “Yes, ProConsul,” replied Sierra. “And I have never lost focus on my mission. I believe if there is an attack on Port Royal that Stone and senior Scout Rangers will be involved…possibly the traitor Martin as well.”

  “Continue,” replied Astra, releasing her hold on Sierra’s jaw.

  “I returned to gain your permission and gather the rest of my company before leaving for Port Royal. I plan to arrive before the attack—”

  “We should warn the Association,” interrupted Vispa.

  “No,” replied Sierra. “The ProConsul’s orders are to retrieve Octavius and kill the traitors. I will have a higher probability of doing that if we allow the Akota to occupy Port Royal.”

  “While that may be true, Commander Skye,” replied Vispa, his revulsion for Sierra and the other modified warriors evident, “but the Association is a neutral by treaty and—”

  “General,” interrupted Astra. “We both know the Association are no neutrals.”

  Vispa glanced toward Sierra and then turned back toward Astra.

  “You may speak freely, General,” said Astra. “I trust her more than I do you.”

  Vispa took a deep breath, absorbing the insult. “But we must find a way to prevent the Association members from being captured and interrogated by the Terillians. They know too much about…”

  “About the virus and Dolus,” said Astra, showing Vispa her trust in Sierra. “If—” Astra paused. Her heart ached for her son and burned for revenge against Stone and Martin…but she could not let the Terillians pick the brains of the Association members.

  “The secrets they know,” continued Vispa. “They could—”

  Astra, still in thought, raised her hand to silence Vispa.

  She turned toward Sierra. “Kill them.”

  “ProConsul?” asked Vispa.

  “Commander Skye,” continued Astra, ignoring Vispa’s question. “Once the attack begins, and before the Terillians land, I want you to kill all of the Council members.”

  “Yes, my ProConsul,” replied Sierra without hesitation. “As you wish.”

  “But the—”

  “Fuck Port Royal,” snapped Astra, interrupting Vispa again. “They have served their purpose. We can find other organizations in the Neutral Quadrant to assist in obtaining captives and we already have the workforce in place for continued construction on Dolus. We can also find other sources of revenue. She paused in thought. We will start by increasing the levy on the middle classes. We will call it a loyalty…no, a patriot tax to support the war.” She stepped in close to Sierra. “My sweet, deadly pet,” she said, running her hand through Sierra’s jet black hair. “You must kill them all. Not one of them can speak a word to the Terillians.”

  “It will be done, my ProConsul,” replied Sierra. “And then I will bring you your son and the heads of the traitors Martin and Stone.”

  Astra smiled. “Once the Dolus army is ready and the virus is unleashed on the Xen and the others,” she said, with a glance toward Vispa, “you, my loyal little lioness, will lead my armies of conquest.”

  “As you wish, my ProConsul,” replied Sierra.

  “But for now, Commander,” continued Astra, “go to Port Royal and do what you do best.”

  ***

  “And you’re convinced this plan will work?” asked Shirt-Wearer River.

  “It has just as good a chance as the full-scale attack…with a lot less lives on the line.” Stone wasn’t sure why he’d been called to see the Shirt-Wearers at such a late hour, or why they were asking about a plan he’d already proposed to them over a standard week ago.

  “This is good news, given the report from Rainfall,” added Shirt-Wearer Shadow.

  “The communications station?” asked Stone. “What news?”

  “It was taken four standard weeks ago,” answered River.

  “I hadn’t heard of Humani or Doran ships being in that sector.”

  “It wasn’t attacked by fleet,” said Shirt-Wearer Wolf. “We believe it was a platoon of Elite Guard. They must have used remote insertion with exposure suits. The first warning of their presence was multiple hull breaches. They took out most of the shipboard defenses before their frigates appeared.”

  “They also killed a squad of Rangers attached to the station,” added River.

  “A platoon?” Stone found it hard to believe even the Elite Guard could pull off an attack like that.

  “We just received the long-range report Rainfall sent just before it fell,” said Wolf. “It’s likely they received information regarding the initial attack plans.”

  “How do you think the Humani will react?” asked River.

  “They might send a force to defend their interests,” replied Stone. “But when Astra hears of this, she will see them as a liability…she may try to take them out first.”

  “Do you think the Human
i will solve our problem for us?” asked Shirt-Wearer Falling-sky.

  “But that will leave the Humani in control of Port Royal,” said River.

  “And we will lose the opportunity to get information from any of the Council members…if we can take them alive,” offered Stone, his brow furrowed in thought. “So we must accelerate the plans even more.”

  “When can you be ready?” asked River. “Your original plans were for a mission five weeks from now.”

  “My team can be ready in three standard weeks, which will allow us to be on station in four.”

  “Will Admiral Crow be able to support a week early?” asked Falling-sky.

  Shirt-Wearer River began activating screens embedded in his desk. After a few seconds, he looked up. “Both carriers assigned to the mission are in the yards until one week prior. And one of his battleships is on detached duty and won’t be able to be on station by then.”

  “We can attempt to accelerate the carriers,” said Wolf.

  “We can make the attack with just four battleships,” replied Stone. “But at least one carrier would help to keep their defenses focused on a possible invasion force landing.”

  “Are you willing to make the attack without the carriers, Marshal?” asked River.

  “To save thousands and possibly nab a Council member? Yes.”

  Stone stood silently as the Shirt-Wearers looked at one another.

  After a moment, River turned toward him. “The acceleration of your mission is approved.”

  ***

  Martin stood outside Stone’s quarters.

  “Com’ on,” she said aloud.

  The door slid open.

  Mori stood in the entrance.

  “Oh, it’s you,” mouthed Martin.

  “And of course it would be you,” replied Mori.

  Martin took a breath. “I’m here for Marshal Stone.”

  “We’ll he’s not here,” replied Mori. “He’s with the Shirt-Wearers.”

  “What?” Martin knew it must have been urgent if she hadn’t been informed. “Why?”

  “I don’t know, Major,” snapped Mori. “I’m not involved in those conversations right now.”

  “Hmm,” said Martin, glancing toward Mori’s leg. “Looks like that thing’s finally starting to work a little. Bet it still hurts like a son-of-a-bitch,” she added with a smile.

  “I don’t know; how long did it take your arm to stop hurting when I sliced it off.”

  “Well, mine was a clean cut…but yours…it was all jagged and juicy. Gotta be—”

  “He’s not here,” interrupted Mori, shooting daggers at Martin with her eyes. “So there’s really no reason for you—”

  “Where’s Octavius?” said Martin, leaning into the entrance and looking past Mori.

  “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”

  “That boy will always be my concern,” replied Martin. “Where is he?”

  “He’s with the Vaes,” grumbled Mori. “Now it’s time for you—”

  “Good,” interjected Martin.

  “And why is it good?”

  “It’s good for him to be with his own kind.”

  “His own kind?”

  “Yes,” replied Martin. “Humani.”

  “You do realize there is no Humani civilization, right?” asked Mori. “It’s just a lie whispered in the ears of fools that were only too eager to listen.”

  Martin’s skin grew hot. “Well my non-existent civilization has been killing people from your real one for generations.” By the tightening of Mori’s face, Martin could tell she was hitting a nerve. She continued. “And you want to talk about reality? Worshipping animals and the fucking sky? At least—”

  “We don’t fucking worship them,” growled Mori. “We respect them…you know that concept you seem to not understand?”

  “Oh, I understand respect…and I give it when it’s deserved.”

  “Why do you hate us so much?”

  “I actually don’t hate your civilization,” replied Martin. “I mean I think you’re all superstitious nutjobs…but I don’t hate your people.” A tight smile came to her face. “Just you…for trying to change him.”

  “He’s just…” Mori paused, her head tilting slightly and her mouth gaping. “You…you’re in love with him.”

  The words were like an explosion in her gut. Stone was her commanding officer; she didn’t love him. Not like that…she couldn’t. “Fuck you,” she spat. “If you can’t keep him it’s because he’s getting sick of you trying to run his life based on your religious bullshit.”

  “And you’re stopping him from becoming the leader he’s supposed to be.”

  Martin laughed. “That’s the problem…you think he’s not good enough when he’s already too good for your scheming ass.”

  “I should’ve put a bullet in your brain back on Juliet 3 when you were lying in the mud bleeding out,” said Mori in Akota.

  “Maybe you should’ve,” replied Martin in Akota with a dry smile. She took a second to enjoy Mori’s surprise at her new-found ability to speak Akota. “But you didn’t.” She stared into Mori’s eyes. Those fucking brilliant green eyes—the eyes of the witch that had Stone wrapped up in her spell. Martin really did hate her. “And that’s why all those Rangers died on Echo 2.”

  “You fucking bitch,” said Mori through her teeth. She stepped toward Martin but paused, her body spasming as pain coursed through her body. “Those men were…” She looked up into Martin’s eyes again. “One day I might just finish what I should have on Juliet 3.”

  Martin moved closer, her face only centimeters from Mori’s. “You already tried that once. But if you want to try again…” She stepped back and readied herself. “I’m ready.”

  Mori gritted her teeth as another wave of pain shot through her leg.

  “Emily!” declared Stone, causing Martin to break her gaze with Mori.

  Martin turned to see Stone standing behind her. “Sir,” snapped Martin.

  “What’s going on? What are you two talking about?” asked Stone.

  “We were—”

  “Major Martin was looking for you,” interrupted Mori. “I was just wishing her luck on your upcoming mission.”

  Martin’s head snapped toward Mori and then back to Stone. “She was…” She paused. Even she knew it wasn’t the time. “What did the Shirt-Wearers want to talk about?”

  Stone motioned for them to step inside the room. After the door slid shut, he spoke.

  “We’re going a week earlier,” said Stone.

  “A week earlier?” asked Mori.

  “Why?” asked Martin.

  “Rainfall communications station was attacked,” said Stone. “It was taken.”

  “So we have to assume the Humani know about the initial plans for the attack on Port Royal,” posed Mori.

  “We’ll need to get at the Council members first,” said Martin. “Astra will go after them.”

  “That’s what I told the Shirt-Wearers. They still don’t get the way Humani think.”

  “You’re telling me,” replied Martin with a quick glance toward Mori. “They probably never will.”

  “That’s because the Humani don’t even know how they think,” added Mori. “The Xen have been thinking for them too long.”

  Martin glowered at Mori. Injured leg or not, she wanted to punch the bitch in the face. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop there. She took a deep breath. “How did the station fall?” she asked Stone.

  “They think it was a Guard unit but they apparently started the attack with a team wearing environmental suits launched from beyond detection range.”

  “No shit,” replied Martin. She tried to think of who would be on that team.

  “How many survivors?” asked Mori.

  “None.”

  “Do we have any intel on the team?” asked Martin. “What info do you have on their tactics? How—”

  “I think all of that can wait until tomorrow,” interr
upted Mori, stepping forward and placing her hand on Stone’s chest. “It’s already late.” Mori turned her green eyes toward Martin. “And I’m sure you can brief your subordinate in the morning.”

  Martin fumed. “Sir. I…” She stopped. She wasn’t going to let Mori bait her into a fight. “I’ll be standing by at 0600.” She started toward the door but stopped. “But if I could have a quick moment outside…it is an issue with Sgt. Shara.” She returned Mori’s gaze. “It’s a Humani thing.”

  “Sure,” replied Stone.

  “And we’ll continue our discussion someday, Major,” said Mori.

  “Someday we will,” replied Martin.

  Martin nodded and stepped outside. Stone followed.

  “What’s going on with Shara?”

  “Nothing, sir,” said Martin.

  “Then why did—”

  “Sir,” interrupted Martin. Her heart began to race. “She is bad…no dangerous for you.”

  “What? I know you two don’t—”

  “No,” pleaded Martin. “She’s in your head…making you not think straight. She only cares about what you can do for her fucking destiny. Not about what you need. I—”

  “Enough, Major,” snapped Stone, his face red with anger. “And I suppose you know what I need?”

  “No, sir,” replied Martin, stepping back. Even in combat, she’d rarely seen him this angry. “I just—”

  “Perhaps you should keep your recommendations to military matters, Major,” he said, his face slowly returning to normal. “This is my…” He paused. “This is private.”

  “Yes, sir,” grumbled Martin through her teeth. “I meant no disrespect. I just—”

  “Tomorrow, Emily,” interrupted Stone. “We will talk more tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied, presenting a crisp salute. “Tomorrow.”

  Martin stood motionless as Stone turned and entered his quarters.

  “Damn it,” she cursed as the door slid shut. She looked up toward the ceiling. “Fucking bitch,” she mouthed. She had to find a way to get Stone to see what that witch was doing to him. “Tomorrow,” she said quietly. “Tomorrow.”