The Great Betrayal Read Free Page A

on your feet!”
    Jack tried to lift his head, but he couldn’t find the strength. Instead, the face of his dour NCO, Sergeant Stone moved in front of him. As usual, the Sergeant sported a grim, angry looking face devoid of any emotion. The man was a scarred veteran, many years older than Jack, and yet a marine with experience in dozens of theaters. Unusually, he was wearing his dress uniform, although Jack was in such an inebriated state, he barely noticed. He turned and slammed the door behind with such force that a gust of air blasted into Jack. He bent down, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged the sorry looking Private to his feet.
    “I know your mother is in a coma, and your buddies ain’t coming back. We’ve all been there. I’ve been there, and it will happen again. I promise you.”
    He released Jack but stayed in the position.
    “You have responsibilities, and it’s been far too long. Every veteran in the Corps has had to face this.”
    Jack’s head tilted slightly as though the weight of his own head was proving too much to hold up. The Sergeant grabbed him and held him upright.
    “Listen to me, marine. If you want a court-martial, you’re going about it the right way. Pull yourself together!”
    He moved away from the inebriated marine and watched him drop down to his knees. He shook his head while looking at the pitiful Jack and bit his tongue before he continued his rant. He was well aware the young marine had suffered more than most. Even so, Sergeant Stone could recall the stories from the marines that fought in the Uprising, and although he’d been too young to join-up at the time, he had witnessed some of the fighting first-hand; especially the attacks on urban areas that had killed many of his friends.
    “Private, now…get to your feet!”
    Jack summoned as much willpower as he could muster to stand up straight. He swayed, and for the briefest of moments almost vomited onto the Sergeant. He held his breath and regained his balance, and then finally looked at the man carefully.
    “I…uh…”
    “I what?” barked the Sergeant. “I’ll tell you what you’ll do. You will get showered, dressed, and down to the dry dock. The scuttlebutt is that Conqueror will be relaunched in less than an hour, and you will be there, Private!”
    He stepped to the doorway and looked back at the pitiful excuse of a marine.
    “Son, you and the rest of your squad excelled yourself on Helios. Don’t let them down by falling apart.”
    With that, he was out of the door, and Jack was left standing in his barely conscious state. He staggered to the small bathroom and missed the washbasin, crashing into the wall. He tried to avoid hitting his head but only managed to move quickly enough to strike his cheek on the cold metal. It opened a small cut, and a trickle of blood ran down to his neck.
    It took Jack fifteen minutes to shower and change his clothes, as well as time to swallow painkillers and wash his face for the tenth time. He eventually staggered out of the small room and into the corridor. The door swung behind with a clunk, and he found himself in the bright open space of the secondary passageway in the marine quarters of Saratoga Naval Station; the brand new Alliance base situated in the heart of what used to be T’Kari. A group of five Jötnar marched past, each wearing their black marine uniforms with pride.
    It didn’t take them long, did it?
    It wasn’t that long ago that Jötnar had been unable to join the military, even after their sterling work fighting for the Confederacy during the Great Uprising. Now it seemed they were joining the marines in larger numbers. One nodded as they moved past, but he didn’t recognize him.
    Come on, you idiot. Concentrate, the dry dock.
    He looked first to his left and then in the direction the Jötnar had emerged from. There were lit signs throughout the station but most referred to sections by numbers and letters only. Finally, he spotted the sign to dry docks,