Free Star Corps by Ian Douglas Page B

Warhurst thought a packet of detailed tactical data to Rostenkowski’s biocybe system, providing him with detailed information on the initial assault, the counterattack, and the overall situation since.
    â€œNice twist, using a sniper to discourage that attack,” the major said. “Any civilian casualties?”
    â€œWe’re not sure. Our spotters saw ambulance crews picking up four people, but we don’t know if they were dead or just badly hurt when the truck exploded.”
    â€œWell, the important thing was to keep that sort of thing out of the newsies’ eyes. Good work, Captain.”
    â€œThank you, sir.” He was somewhat irritated by Rostenkowski’s brusque manner. His Marines had done a hell of a job these past four days, and he was being congratulated for his public relations skills in keeping the collateral damage he’d inflicted out of the netnews downloads.
    â€œThis is an Army deployment area now, Captain. Tell your people to stand down unit by unit as we relieve them.”
    â€œAye aye, sir.”
    â€œOh, and you’d better get yourself presentable.”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œA special TAV is being vectored in to pick you up. Should be grounded within fifteen mikes.”
    Warhurst looked down at himself. He was wearing his armor, sans helmet and gauntlets, and the active camo surface was sand-pitted, gritty, and streaked with grime. His one-piece underneath was sweat-soaked and rank; he’d not had a bath in four days, and he knew his depilatory had worn off a couple of days back, leaving him with a distinctly unregulation shadow on his face.
    He’d not brought much in the way of toiletries or spare uniforms…not for a deployment that was supposed to last for a day, two at the most.
    â€œA TAV? Taking me where?”
    Rostenkowski shrugged. “Back to Quantico. Don’t know why. All I know is to tell you to be ready to go…and toleave your people in charge of your number two.” Rostenkowski turned then and began shouting orders at the soldiers unloading supply crates from one of the transport floaters.
    Warhurst used his internal mapping biocybes to locate his XO. He would have to let her know what was going down.
    And where the hell was he going to find a clean uniform?
    Esteban Residence
Guaymas, Sonora Territory
United Federal Republic, Earth
0902 hours PT
    â€œI’m leaving, Mom. I have to.”
    They strolled along the stone-strewn beach, the oily gray surf of the Sea of California lapping at their feet, the muddy breakers just ankle high. The sun blazed low above the mountains in the east, promising another sweltering day. Both John and his mother wore lightweight bodysuits against the UV and the heat, and their faces glistened with blocking oils generated by antisun nanotreatments.
    â€œI know, Johnny. I just wish you weren’t joining the Marines, is all.”
    â€œWhy?” He tried a grin. “It’s not like we don’t have it in our blood. Garroway’s March?”
    â€œOh, it’s in your blood, all right. Damn it.”
    â€œThe thing is, I don’t want to leave you. Dad can be…tough to live with.”
    She sighed. “Don’t I know it? But…he means well. He’s just…under a lot of stress lately, is all….”
    â€œDamn it, Mom, I wish you’d quit making excuses for him. He drinks too much, and when he’s drunk, he loses his temper. The cybercontrols don’t seem to be helping him much.”
    â€œHe disabled them.”
    â€œWhat?”
    She nodded. “About six months ago. He admitted it to me, during a fight. He said the control implant made him feel like he wasn’t himself.”
    â€œDoes his doctor AI know?”
    â€œI don’t know. It’s his business, not mine.”
    â€œIt’s your business if he hits you! If he makes your life miserable!”
    â€œHe’s only…gotten physical a couple of