Read Stark's War for Free Online Page B

bucks for the always-too-small military budget in the bargain. But now they came together, working toward an objective that officially remained Top Secret even as its identity became more obvious by the day.
    "Sergeant," Desoto asked after one vigorous training session, "the Moon really like that?"
    "How would I know? Besides, you're not supposed to know it's the Moon."
    Desoto grinned. "I got a cousin in the Intelligence section. They've been watching the civ newscasts. Everybody knows what we're doing. There wasn't any way to hide building the transports in orbit and all the stuff going on here. But everyone thinks it's some kind of bluff to get what we want. That and some scheme to award big contracts to the space construction corporations."
    "That last is real believable. Mil construction contracts are always first about the contractors and second about us, if that."
    "Yeah," Desoto agreed. "So none of the foreign governments really believe we're actually going to the Moon."
    "I can't quite believe it myself. What's your cousin say the reason for all this is?"
    "Lot of money on the Moon, he says."
    "Do tell. Maybe I'll pick up a few bucks when I get there."
    "Really," Desoto insisted. "You know, we go places all the time because there's some, uh, economic reason."
    "You mean," Stark stated flatly, "that there's something there some business tycoons need us to protect so they can milk it instead of some foreigners."
    "Right. So maybe they want the Moon now. Since the post-Millennium Crash, everything here is pretty much owned by us. Pax America, right? That's why the other guys went to the Moon, to get stuff we didn't own the rights to. That's what my cousin says."
    "He could be right."
    "So you think we're really going? To the Moon?"
    "Pablo, a word of advice. You've been in the mil long enough to know that you never really know where you're going until you get there."
    "Everybody's spending a whole lot of money if they're not serious. Wonder where the mil found enough bucks to afford all this?" Desoto asked.
    "Pablo, another piece of advice. Never ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to."
    Finally, there were lectures. A military wedded to hi-tech video conferencing, able to link every soldier on every battlefield into a seamless whole, sharing every bit of information, still insisted on gathering large numbers of warm bodies into large, warm rooms to sit while another warm body paced in front of them and delivered large chunks of information in an authoritative and singularly dull fashion. They sat and slept through the latest versions of Rules of Engagement, Laws of War, the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Treatment of Noncombatants, and Military Courtesy, as well as the always dreaded update on Sexually Transmitted Diseases. Now the Battalion Commander himself, Colonel Danzel, usually glimpsed so rarely by the soldiers under his command that sightings of him were tracked like rare celestial events, stood before them with a hearty smile fixed on his face.
    "Good afternoon. You've been through a lot of heavy training recently. I just wanted to tell you how proud everyone is of your performance. Especially during the uniform inspections. Everyone looks very good in the parade uniforms. Very good. And the barracks look great, too. Someone's doing a nice job of keeping the wax shiny on those floors. So, um, good job." Danzel shifted his feet, rubbed his nose, then nodded as if acknowledging a comment. "Any questions?"
    A hand shot up. Stark craned his neck in an unsuccessful attempt to see who had been foolish enough to take the Colonel's offer seriously. Must be a new guy.
    The Colonel also looked bemused, but swung an arm out to indicate the questioner. "Yes?"
    Sure enough, a Private stood, licking his lips nervously. "Sir, we have been training a lot, and the equipment seems to be breaking down a lot."
    Danzel frowned at the questioner. "That didn't sound like a question to me."
    The Private gulped