Tech World (Undying Mercenaries Series) by B. V. Larson Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t get through to Central anymore, and I assured them that that was normal—even though I had no idea why the connection had been broken.
    Tired, I arrived at my quarters ready for bed. It had been a very long day. To my surprise, my roommate wasn’t there. Instead, Centurion Graves stood in the middle of the room.
    “Is there a problem, sir?” I asked, setting aside my bag.
    Graves let his arm fall. He’d been watching his tapper. He stared at me coldly. “You tell me, Specialist.”
    “Sir?”
    “You’re late.”
    “Just got aboard, sir. Last shuttle up from—”
    “Bullshit, McGill,” he snapped.
    I shut up. It had always been hard to bullshit Graves. I decided to quit while I was behind.
    “I’ve been waiting here at the barracks for the last hour or two. Then I decided to hunt you down using your tapper to locate your position. Do you know what I found?”
    “Uh…I was taking the grand tour, sir.”
    “Yes, you were. I’ve spoken to some of the people who were on your itinerary. Do you know what they said?”
    I was standing at attention by now having come to realize this wasn’t a social call. “I can guess, sir.”
    “They told me you’ve been out drumming up votes to keep Legion Varus independent. Is that right, Specialist?”
    “In a manner of speaking, sir.”
    “Right… Do you know that the officers in the legion have all been specifically forbidden to sway the votes of troops in this matter?”
    I glanced at him. “No sir. I wasn’t aware of that.”
    “Well, it’s true. That’s why I’m here.”
    “Sir?”
    “I want you to carry on, soldier.”
    “Oh. I see, sir. Will do.”
    Graves snorted. “As if you would listen to me if I told you to stop.”
    “The vote is pretty much over with anyway, sir,” I said. “It’s almost midnight, and they’ve cut our access to Central.”
    This seemed to amuse Graves. “No, Specialist. You’re wrong about that. This is far from over. Now, if you’ll please excuse me. I need to get out of your presence before the crazy rubs off on me.”
    He bid me goodnight and marched off down the passageway chuckling.
    After my head landed on my bunk a few minutes later, I found it was hard to keep my eyes open. The vote was over, and I was pretty sure we’d won. If we hadn’t won, I figured I could at least take comfort in the fact that I’d done my damnedest.
    I wondered what Graves had been hinting about, but I hardly cared as long as we’d beaten Turov.
     
    * * *
     
    The next morning after breakfast we were summoned for a briefing. Minotaur was still in orbit, I was glad to see. I’d been worried they’d leave Earth during the night. I wanted the chance to tell my folks I was shipping out—once we were in a warp bubble there’d be no transmissions possible.
    My unit stood at attention in a square inside our designated module. Minotaur was a big enough ship to allow each unit to have its own module. They were all linked together of course, stacked up like suitcases inside what had to be a single massive hold. But to us tiny humans, the modules were comfortable homes. There was an exercise chamber, sleeping quarters, and a mess dedicated to each. We were in the exercise chamber right now waiting for the mass briefing to begin.
    Centurion Graves marched in from a side door at precisely 0700. Martial music began to play—I recognized it as the Hegemony anthem. A few troopers hissed, and their veterans silenced them.
    A face flickered into being on the forward wall of the chamber. The image had to be thirty feet high. The face belonged to none other than Imperator Turov.
    “Damn,” Carlos said next to me. “That mole on her forehead must be a half-meter across.”
    “You should text her about it,” I suggested.
    Turov’s face was tight and grim. She waited a moment then addressed the assembly. I knew she couldn’t see us as she had to be looking into a camera pickup, but the effect of those gigantic eyes staring down on a man