Stark's Command Read Online Free

Stark ran, following the path Sergeant Tanaka had entered into his armor's Tactical Combat System, but deliberately slowing his pace from a mad dash to a quick jog. No way I want people to see me running like crazy— The APC loading access gapped ahead, much larger than Stark was used to and set into the side of the vehicle so he could board just by walking. Why the hell did they compromise the armor and the camouflage by putting a door in the damn thing? Guess Generals don't like having to climb into their personal vehicles.
    Stark dove into the seat directly facing the command displays, fumbling with his restraining harness until he realized it had been much more heavily padded than usual. With a muttered curse he slammed the buckles home, then sat for a long moment. Alright, already. Let's go! He jacked in, cursing again at the delay. "Driver? What's the holdup?"
    "Awaiting orders, sir."
    "Orders?" Ah, hell. All my career I've gotten on these things and they've gone where someone else told them to go. Guess I've got to break a few habits. Stark pinpointed the ridge on his display and bounced it to the APC systems. "Here's a position. Get me there as fast as you can."
    "Yessir." The APC rose with a smooth glide, unlike the wicked lurches Stark was used to experiencing when riding as a simple grunt. Accelerating rapidly, the vehicle shot down the wide lane leading through the lunar surface over the headquarters complex, only to slow significantly as it entered the broken terrain outside the developed areas.
    "What's the problem?" Stark snapped. "How come you slowed down so much?"
    "There's a lot of rocks out here, sir. I've got to be careful maneuvering around them."
    "A lot of rocks?" Stark switched to an exterior view, watching the terrain scroll past. Tortured rock, interspersed with puddles of dust. Dead as only something that had never known life could be dead. The terrain didn't look too bad for a lifeless expanse of rock on the Moon. "How long you been driving up here?"
    "Four years."
    "Four—? Why don't you have more experience with driving around this junk?"
    "I'm the General's driver, sir," the driver noted with a trace of annoyance. "I'm always on call if the General needs a vehicle."
    And all those Generals probably only rode this thing around the Colony, if that. What a waste of a good soldier and a decent vehicle. One more thing to fix if and when I get the chance. "Well, mister, you're driving me, now. Get this thing moving. I don't care if the paint gets scratched or the fenders dented."
    "Uh, standing orders—"
    "Just got changed. Move it!"
    "Yes, sir." The APC accelerated again, not to the pace an experienced driver could have maintained, but noticeably faster than it had been poking along at before.
    Stark worked the controls before him, bringing up the sector display. He paused, one finger poised to call up direct vid from a frontline soldier, then lowered the hand. Too easy to watch this battle through the eyes of the people fighting it instead of doing my own job of trying to watch the big picture. Blasted command and control gear is too good. Without his willing it, Stark's memory flashed to the initial assault on the Moon. Years ago, the first time the command and control vid had been fed straight to the networks with minimal time-delay as another form of mass entertainment, the first time the brass in the Pentagon figured out that a public hungry for blood-and-guts entertainment would pay to watch the real thing going down. A clever way to boost the military budget and fund some more hyperexpensive weapons without inflicting pain on civilian taxpayers, never mind how the average soldier felt about it, and never mind another big wedge driven between civilian and military society. Why'd we put up with it as long as we did? And how do I get my people to fight now? He stared grimly at the sector display. Still running. Lots of them. But the flanks are holding. Nobody's even bothering the Castle. He