Stacia backed away, falling back on her military training and standing at attention. Mama Linny appeared amused by this, while Mama Gertrude looked sad. For a moment, Stacia couldn’t figure out why. Then she remembered.
She wasn’t a Galactic Marine anymore. They were no longer her superior officers.
“What are you two doing here?” Stacia asked. “This place is supposed to be on a need-to-know basis only.”
“That’s why we don’t actually even know where here is,” Mama Linny said. “A friend brought us along, but we had to be kept in isolation the entire time so we wouldn’t have a clue as to the coordinates.”
“A friend?” Stacia asked.
The two of them stepped to either side, allowing General Borealis to come in from behind them.
This time, Stacia didn’t care whether she was still a Galactic Marine or not. She saluted anyway.
“General! I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”
“At ease, marine,” Borealis said. Her voice was shaky, and despite the brand new Scorpio-class armor she was wearing, the woman still had to walk with a cane. Borealis saw Stacia staring at it and chuckled.
“Next time I give you an order to shoot me, marine, maybe you could not be so thorough, huh?”
“Sorry, General.”
“Don’t be too sorry. It convinced all the right people, didn’t it? No one ever suspected a thing.”
“Is the damage permanent?”
“Once upon a time, it might have been. You hit a few key nerves. But with the right therapy, I should be back to normal within six months.”
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”
“Well, for one thing, I came to see my son.” General Borealis came further into the room and stood next to Stanton’s bed. “I don’t want to disturb him, though. Any idea when he might be waking up?”
“In complete honesty, general, given his recent activities with Skin this morning, I expect he’s really going to need a lot more rest.”
“Ha! I suppose.” Careful not to wake him, General Borealis brushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead and, after a moment’s hesitation, bent down to gently kiss her son’s cheek. When she stood back up, she went over to Skin’s bedside. “Skin, huh? That’s the best name you could give her?”
“It’s the name she wanted.”
“And everything she said in the video is true? Do the convicts really use people like her for…” The general, veteran of more bloody conflicts than most marines saw in their entire lifetimes, couldn’t even bring herself to continue that sentence.
“I saw more than enough evidence to corroborate her tale.”
“This will start to change now, you know,” General Borealis said. “Her claims will be investigated. The Skins will be freed from that living hell.”
“Eventually,” Stacia said.
“Yes,” the general said with a sigh. “Eventually. It does seem that none of the important stuff can ever be done quickly, can it? There are always rules. Red tape. People trying to obstruct the truth.” She turned to Stacia with a distinct gleam in her eye. “How would you like to do something about that?”
“General? I don’t understand.”
“She was telling us her plan on the way here,” Mama Gertrude said.
Mama Linny nodded. “And we both agreed that if there was anyone who would want to be involved, it was you.”
“I don’t understand,” Stacia said.
“Leviathan is only one planet, Stacia. The vast majority of the planets we have found and colonized, or at least established relationships with, are stable and just in their own way. On a few, when something goes wrong, the Galactic Marines can go in. But on fewer still, the brute force of the Galactic Marines isn’t the answer. In fact, as I’m sure you saw down on Leviathan, the marines are actually the problem. There needs to be some sort of last line, a group of people who can go in without anyone suspecting, to do what’s right.”
“And who determines what’s right and what’s not?” Stacia asked.
“Who indeed? Maybe there needs to be certain people involved. Like a person with a strong sense of duty and justice.” She put a hand on Stacia’s shoulder, then looked at Stanton. “And someone with pure intentions and a strong belief in what’s right and wrong.” She nodded to Skin. “Someone who has lived through the worst of what sentient beings can do to each other, and will have empathy for the oppressed.” And then she shrugged at Kendara. “And perhaps even a wildcard. Someone who isn’t so pure. Just in case there’s something unsavory that must be done that the pure cannot.”
“Us?” Stacia asked. “You want us to be this team of yours.”
“You would be top secret. You would answer only to me and a small number of others that I deem trustworthy.”
“That would be us,” Mama Linny said.
“There’s still plenty that’s fishy going on in the Galactic Marine command. Stanton’s ship didn’t go down all by itself, and there are other things I’ve witnessed. I don’t have much to go on yet, but I get the feeling that someone will need to stand up to whatever corruption is growing inside the Galactic Marines. You may not technically be a marine anymore, but you can still serve. You can still do what’s right. Hell, you even already have a ship to use, once it’s fixed. Although I suggest maybe changing the name.”
Stacia smiled. “I don’t know. No would expect the secret team of a Galactic Marines general to tool around the galaxy in a ship called Daddy’s Adult Toy. It might be the perfect camouflage.”
Borealis smiled back. “Maybe it might be. So what do you say? Is this a call you think you might want to answer?”
Stacia considered it for all of three seconds. Then the smile disappeared from her face, she stood at attention again, and she gave her best Galactic Marine salute.
“Stacia X-79, reporting for duty, General.”
Read on for a free sample of Alliance Marines: The Road to War
CHAPTER ONE
January 02 2347 Interstellar Calendar
Earth Convoy staging ground
2 Million miles beyond Lunar Orbit
Reach Convoy 51
Aboard Convoy flagship Lucky Strike
Fold Event: Imminent
“If you’ve got nothing to hide, show me what’s in your holds.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t hacked or bought your way in already.”
“Admiral, I must protest! This, this… Earther is obstructing our right to inspection!”
“It’s the Reach ambassador who’s obstructing. They’re intentionally delaying transfer of cargo already we paid them for!”
Admiral Ashlan Daku ignored the angry words and passed the glowing screen back to the officer standing at attention before her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Be safe up there. Dismissed.”
The message-bearer couldn’t hide his gratitude as he saluted and fled the elegantly appointed sitting room for the spartan ship’s corridor beyond.
Airlock doors slid in from both walls to seal in the middle. Their surfaces were painted with swaths of color to disguise their purpose. The entire room was bathed in elegance. Glass-front bookcases, paintings, luxurious sofas, and chairs populated the room. Persian rugs were even fixed to the floor. Soothing yellow light thrown from lamps instead of glow squares and wall tracks completed the sense that this was an important place. Only one incongruity pierced the illusion of timelessness and order: in the very centre of the room stood a circular plastic and glass table. Seven crash couches, raised to sitting positions, surrounded it.