Blood Money: Full Compilation

By Roger Ruffles

The Battle for Mars was just the beginning, and not the end. As Mars looks reproachfully upon the galaxy that tears itself apart in its name, another claims the title of Emperor, and he will see that humanity turns upon itself in an orgy of violence and bloodshed. The stars will run as red as the planet in whose name they are burned.

The Age of Secession has begun.

The Blood Money Trilogy follows the story of a spy from the Red Empire desperate to unite a family forced to deny their existence; an assassin with no face to call his own; and a bounty hunter who has spent a lifetime ignoring the greatest hunt of all. In the name of money, family, and power old blood will be shed and new blood will arise, but the price is not always what you might think. Everything has a price, and in the Age of Secession that price is paid in money tainted red.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roger Ruffles
• Release date: Apr 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310940385

Roger Ruffles

I was born in 1980, in Cheshire.Despite that, I view myself as a Manchester lad, having spent most of my adult life in the city. I developed a keen interest in science fiction at a very early age thanks to a very popular time travel series on BBC1. This has led to a life-long interest in the genre, which continues to this day, proving that the licence fee is worth it after all. The appeal of science fiction, and fantasy, is in the escapism, the look at what could be, and the sheer imagination and suspension of belief it requires – and how despite its groundings in the far-fetched, real-life often comes to imitate the imaginings of those insane enough to love science fiction.I completed my first book at 15, and attempted but failed to get published. Looking back on it, this is probably more of a relief to those who like to read. It certainly allowed me to do more boring things, such as work, first in banking as an office junior, then in utilities in procurement, then manufacturing and latterly construction in commercial roles. It's more logical than it sounds written down.Writing is and always will be a hobby first and foremost, a love and a way to express. An escape from reality, whilst holding a mirror up to all that is good and bad in the world. I hope you enjoy reading my books, almost as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Book preview

Chapter I

The Vienna Musikverein opera hall was many, many hundreds of years old, and had been removed from Earth at the express command of the True Emperor in the first days of his reign over two centuries ago. It had been deconstructed from the ruins of Vienna and reconstructed in the capital of Mars, on the dormant volcanic caldera of Olympus Mons, and even more amazingly it had survived the destruction of the capital of the Red Imperium of Mars.

It was almost full to capacity, the contemporary operatic music flowing through the grand hall and bathing the assembled audience in its rapture and joy, its torment and despair. Composed and conducted by the former Imperial prisoner Aaron Eradmus, the live actors were currently singing and embodying the story of the darker days of the False Emperor’s reign. The simulant heroine was watching her vat-sister being taken, to be executed in one of the False Emperor’s pogroms against the unaugmented. The music was slow, and excruciatingly heart breaking.

He was of average size and build, and there seemed to be little remarkable about him. He wore nondescript casual clothing, not too expensive but not exactly poor in make or cost. Auburn hair was cut fairly short, darker in the dimmed overhead chandelier lighting, and deep brown, trusting eyes gazed towards the stage of the Musikverein.

The man let the music flow over him, his real purpose there temporarily forgotten as he felt the long, heartrending song pull him along in its mourning. He leaned back and closed his eyes, the thousands of people in the opera house forgotten and receding into fantasy as his reality became the story he was listening to.

He was not actually there; like a good two-thirds of the audience, his physical body was actually sat at what passed for his home for the last four months. By jacking into the datasphere of the Sol System, his mind’s thought processes had been reduced to streams of data, flitting at high-speed across the system towards Mars. A holographic representation of his physical form sat in one of the many specially designed holo-projection seats within the Vienna Musikverein, allowing him to feel the sensations and enjoy the experience as if he were actually really there.

It was total immersion, a technology itself centuries old, as good as actually booking passage on an intrastellar conveyance and heading towards the burnt wreckage of Olympus Mons City. After all, what was reality but what your mind told you it was.

He opened his eyes as his senses warned him that someone else was joining the opera at the seat next to him. His holographic, immaterial eyes flicked to the side gently, and he controlled the smile he felt at seeing the woman settle herself into the booked seat. She was no holographic projection, her regal blue and white StarCom Armed Forces Lieutenant-Commander uniform as real and tangible as her body. She was late, but she was here.

For a long period of time he ignored her as he would any other stranger, watching the opera before him. Aaron Eradmus had been tolerated by the True Emperor’s government, but the False Emperor had no such forbearance as A.E. had increasingly become more anti-Imperial. A year later with the Red Empire destroyed and the StarCom Federation arising in the Core of the colonised galaxy, he was suddenly allowed to speak and express himself again.

As they moved into a rousing description of the Battle of Mars, where the Revolutionary Council had used the Loyalist and False Praetorian Guard to fight against each other to depose the False Emperor and bring the Red Empire to its dissolution, the man pulled some of his consciousness back into his real body.

A vast number of millions of kilometres away, his physical body leaned forwards and a hand waved over the special device he had connected to the holoprojection device in front of him. With a hum, the legacy Imperial Intelligence equipment activated, and his datastream through the open Sol-wide datasphere suddenly became undetectably encrypted. With passive security, he had just ensured that he could hold a private communication in the midst of a public datasphere.

His holograph turned to the image of the woman at his side as he felt her join his secure sub-sphere within the public datasphere.

Karina, he said, smiling. To any outside observer, his holographic image continued to stare forwards at the stage of the Musikverein, a look of wonder and enjoyment on its face.

Mason, she said, her physical body in place but a radiant smile on the image appearing in his minds’-eye. We must stop meeting like this.

If only that were true, he said, with great feeling. We dare not stay on this secure sub-sphere for too long, and it may get cracked afterwards. What is the message?

The Master has said time is running short, according to his or her agent, she replied, succinct and to the point. We have operational clearance to proceed.

Is everything ready your side?

It will be at eleven hundred tomorrow, Imperial Standard time. There is only a narrow window though, I will only be in range for perhaps some three hours or less.

The man called Mason thought quickly. Then we commence the operation at eleven hundred fifteen Standard time.

I will pass the message on to those that need it, she said, nodding. She paused, looking through the audience to the stage. No-one nearby had any idea what was being discussed in their midst. There was a dramatic death scene taking place within the Red Palace, the music stirring and inspirational as the actor playing the False Emperor was leading up to being shot through the head. Are we sure we want to do this? she asked.

It’s a bit late for second thoughts, Karina.

It’s never too late. We’ve not done it, yet. Trillions of people could die a bloody, horrible death, indirectly because of what we are about to do.

Trillions could also have a much safer existence, he said. It is impossible for us to know.

You know that’s unlikely. Look at how the colonised galaxy is tearing itself apart. Everywhere you look, the Houses are seceding and creating misery as they do it.

It’s part the reason we’re doing this, said Mason, knowing as he said it that the reasons were much more deep and complicated than that. The Houses have had their day. Enough now, we must terminate this conversation.

Agreed, said Lieutenant-Commander Karina Cartagne. She hesitated, and added, I love you.

I love you too, said the man called Mason.

On the stage, the Praetorian Guard Colonel shot the False Emperor in the head, and the music boomed a deep, throaty, rumbling, dramatic roar that was very final.

The man unjacked himself from the datasphere and the holographic projector. In addition to the joy of seeing the Lieutenant-Commander, he had enjoyed the opera itself. It was a reminder to him of all that had been wrong with the False Emperor and his version of the Red Empire, and all that was still going wrong with the secession and the dissolution, and the rise of the equally imperialistic StarCom Federation.

Mason Duboise stood slowly, the opera having rejuvenated his soul in some inexplicable way. It was late at night according to Imperial Standard time, and he was not required to be at his station until early morning, at seven hundred hours tomorrow. He would ensure he got a good night’s sleep. If it all went wrong, it might be his last.

As he waited for the suspensor bed to rise out of its concealed docking port in the floor, he looked to one side. A silent personal assistance droid hovered in the air, projecting a reflective mirror image into mid-air of himself, and also holding his uniform for tomorrow.

Once upon a time, when not in the field, he had worn the black and dark crimson, sharply cut Nehru-collared suits of the Imperial Intelligence agency. They had been feared as the most efficient and secretive arm of the True Emperor’s covert operations, counter-intelligence, and secret police. Under the False Emperor that uniform had come to mean something much more different and evil.

Even so, he thought he preferred it to the uniform the droid held. He had been working for StarCom’s Central Intelligence Division for a long, long time before the collapse of the Red Empire. It transpired that many former Imperial Intelligence agents had, StarCom had penetrated the False Emperor’s secret services so well. The uniform of the CID, which he now wore openly, was a regal blue and white suit.

It was lighter in colour, but just as dark in purpose he had found to his disgust. He had spent years as a traitor to the False Emperor, a Loyalist to the dead and deposed True Emperor, only to find the supposed saviours of StarCom were just as bad. One tyranny had replaced another.

he mentally ordered the room computer, and he lowered himself into the suspensor bed.

Lieutenant-Commander Karina Cartagne walked onto the bridge of the SFSS Savageness, an S-class strikecruiser. As she exited the turbolift, she jacked fully into the datasphere of the ship, assuming more command and control as she essentially became an organic part of it.

Through the scanners she could see that the ship was at rest, held locked in place by force fields and massive physical magnetic clamps the size of tower blocks, within an armoured and sheltered operational carapace. The shell had another function, allowing countless lifts, platforms, and other droid-operated vehicles and extensions of the structure to ply their trade of repair around the strikecruiser.

she said.

said the Commander Laslos, captain of the Savageness, standing up as he vacated the command chair. She sat down within it.

Commander Laslos was former Praetorian Guard, a Loyalist who had supported the True Emperor. He had been given command of the Savageness a couple of months ago, after its previous captain was killed during the early phases of the StarCom Federation’s expansion out of the Sol System and into the Core. He had been a volunteer, willingly joining StarCom following the Dissolution of the Praetorian Guard.

Lieutenant-Commander Karina Cartagne was an advanced copy of the Praetorians, the best the Star Communications organisation could do as they built their army and navy in secret, but still just a normal cyborg in comparison. She was not one of the elite genetically enhanced super-humans of the Praetorian Guard by any means.

asked the Commander Laslos.

she said,

Laslos nodded. that problem on Praetorian ships. I’ll come back on duty when we’re leaving the Uranian Shipyards, just before eleven hundred hours.>

You will be dead fifteen minutes later, the thought rising unbidden in her mind. The guilt stabbed through her with surprising sharpness. Commander Laslos was not a bad man by any means, even if he seemed blind to what the StarCom Federation truly was.

she asked.

replied Commander Laslos.

The damage to a number of StarCom’s fleets during the Levitican War, the attempt to invade and conquer the young and newly-formed Levitican Union, it had all resulted in the end of StarCom’s attempt to forge its own replacement empire. The death of President Nielsen had helped bring it to a halt as well, but Karina Cartagne was not fooled. The StarCom Federation had too many aggressive, expansionist, imperialistic people controlling it for the empire-building policy to end.

Karina Cartagne was Star Communications Network bred, having been created in a biovat and cybernetically augmented purposefully to run the Praetorian-copied starships they were building in secret for decades before the end of the Red Empire of Mars. StarCom education programmes were nowhere near as advanced as the Praetorian programmes however.

The Star Communications Network had become the StarCom Federation under President Nielsen, and it was then that Karina had realised that they were no better than the hated False Emperor.

she said, reading the scanner reports.

said Commander Laslos, yawning. he added, leaving the bridge.

Chief of Facility Sara Didactlos saw the facility’s Chief Scientist before her swallow and look up, tensing as he did so. In her field of vision everyone on the command centre of the facility’s operations deck tensed, bowing down to their work; the fear was palpable. It was like the grim reaper had entered, a chill cold flowing before him to strike terror into those about to suffer the scythe.

Chief of Facility Didactlos had overall responsibility for the facility on the moon of Charon, itself locked in an orbit with Pluto. The weaponry systems on Pluto constantly covered the moon of Charon, ready to obliterate the secret facility lying just under its surface. It was an additional back-up should the facility ever be compromised.

Chief Didactlos turned around, watching the figure stride across her command centre. With his average height and build, and StarCom Central Intelligence Department uniform, he physically should not create the fear he did. It was more his role and purpose.

When StarCom had taken over the facility from the Red Imperium following its collapse at the beginning of the year, they had put their Central Intelligence Department agents in place. President Nielsen used them to ensure loyalty to her new Federation, and as such, they had the power of life or death over those in their remit. Mason Duboise had joined the facility four months ago, in charge of the Central Intelligence Department section on the hidden top-secret base, and so far had executed a number of former Imperials for failing to pledge proper allegiance to the Federation. He was far more aggressive than his predecessor.

Chief Didactlos was a life-long member of StarCom herself, but did not like what it had become under President Nielsen. She was very much hoping that President Pereyra proved to be a different type of leader, and took StarCom back to its roots of being a service organisation rather than an imperialistic nation. This Mason Duboise symbolised all that she did not like about what the Federation was, and accordingly, he struck a similar level of fear into her. His political power extended over everyone on this station, even her, the person who was supposed to be running it.

Good morning, Senior Associate, said Chief Didactlos neutrally.

Likewise, said Senior Associate Mason Duboise, in a voice which left no doubt that he did not mean it. He simply strode on past her, heading towards the office which had become the permanent residence of the CID officers. The other four were already in there before their boss, ready to carry out whatever he was deciding to do today. It would probably be more random psychological tests of the fifteen thousand workers on site, for loyalty to the StarCom Federation.

Bastard, said her Chief Scientist.

No, said the Chief of Facility Didactlos sadly, bastards are at least born. He was spewed out by the Emperor’s own hell.

said Lieutenant-Commander Karina Cartagne, standing and vacating the seat.

said Commander Laslos, looking much more refreshed as he sat down in the command chair.

said Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne,

said Commander Laslos, nodding. he announced across the datasphere.

said Commander Laslos, giving her permission to sail them out of the shipyards and into the space above Uranus.

Karina checked her internal chronometer. It was just past eleven hundred hours, which meant fifteen more minutes to go. As she thought it, unconsciously her eyes tracked across the bridge to several crew members. Marine Major Annah Eborozkev returned her gaze.

The SFSS Savageness strikecruiser emerged out into space from the vast, gigantic half-dome shell that made up the Uranian Shipyard Dock 12. The construction was huge, each of the sixteen spacedocks containing numerous bays capable of holding or constructing several ships.

The sleek, dangerous strikecruiser was bearing the regal blue, white and sky-blue trim of the StarCom Federation, and it glinted beautifully in the reflected light from the Uranian Shipyards. The sun of Sol was far too distant to make much of an impact out here.

It turned and began to power away from the area, leaving the vast number of military ships-of-the-line in their various, war-torn states of disrepair behind. A battlecruiser was already beginning to shuttle into the vacated docking berth.

The Savageness set course to head out-system to its assembly area, awaiting the rest of its squadron. The path chosen and cleared with System Command would take it somewhat closer to Pluto, and its moon Charon.

Chapter II

Senior Associate Mason Duboise was apparently concentrating on his holographic work terminal. As the time approached quarter past eleven he stood up casually, walking towards the moleculiser, probably and apparently with the intent of synthesising himself some form of beverage.

There were four other members of StarCom’s Central Intelligence Department in the room, his entire facility staff, which consisted of one Junior Associate, a Special Agent and two Full Agents. The Junior Associate had his head bent slightly over his hovering workdesk, concentrating on his report. As Mason passed the Junior Associate he very casually extended his arm out in a gentle sweep.

The Junior Associate’s head thumped off the desk, fully detached from the neck, arterial blood spraying out in a violent fountain.

Senior Associate Mason Duboise had his personal forcefield already activated, and the decapitated agents’ blood merely sprayed in a surreal curtain against the energy bubble, as the wrist-mounted energy blade snap-hissed back into its concealed position. We are go, he said to the other three CID agents, the ones that he knew were with him.

Special Agent Samuel Yanto smoothly rose from his seat, even as the others were arming themselves for the upcoming mission. Of all of them, Yanto was the one that Mason trusted the most, having carefully obscured their long history together in the Imperial Intelligence agency. Yanto fell into step with Senior Associate Mason, pulling a concealed oxygenator mask into place over mouth and nose, and they both walked into the command centre of the Charon Weapons Facility.

Chief of Facility Didactlos paid no attention as she heard the CID officers’ station door cycle open, preferring to ignore them. It was unusual for them all to stay together for an entire morning, but she tried not to wonder about their activities as much as she possibly could.

We are moving into the incubation phase – the Chief Scientist was saying, before suddenly breaking off, choking heavily.

What – began the Chief of Facility, before beginning to cough as well.

Several things happened at once. She coughed into her hand, and stared in horror at the blood which had peppered the palm. The canister which rolled against her feet was spraying some form of gas into the air, and it was being shot in every direction at tremendous speeds. She rolled back, looking around even as her vision was blurring, seeing several canisters firing in numerous directions. She tracked the aims back, suffering and falling to her knees, watching two of the CID agents calmly walking out of the office in their knee-length regal blue overcoats, special grenade-launchers rapidly emptying their magazines throughout the entire space of the enormous command centre.

She hit the floor, desperately trying to speak, raise the alarm, or summon for help. All around her, the comcen staff were dying, the majority of them scientists, technicians and engineers. Whatever their profession, they were being gassed into death by an extremely lethal respiratory toxin.

It was death, she knew with a certainty.

Senior Associate Mason Duboise stood over the prone form of the dead Chief of Facility Didactlos, nodding to himself. A scanner in his left hand was telling him that they had neutralised the entire command centre. In one easy strike, they had taken command of the facility.

he ordered over the opsnet, the datasphere that he had created especially just for the four of them.

Full Agent Michael Rose strode up to the mainframe computer terminal, a physical dataspike emerging from his palm. With force he rammed it into the hard point, the real-life connection speeding up his activities. He was flooding the mainframe with all manner of viruses, every single one of them pre-programmed with special missions of their own.

Mason Duboise said, switching to a military battlenet.

said Lieutenant Beringer.

He heard the nervousness as Lieutenant Beringer, one of the marines assigned to a very particular post at the facility, replied,

Mason lied,

That is because we have made sure you cannot, thought Mason. he lied,

The link was broken. Mason saw the look from Special Agent Yanto. What? he asked through his oxygenator mask.

He bought it then, Yanto commented.

I’ve worked on the story I fed him for the last eight weeks, of course he bought it, scoffed Mason. We wait until we’re off Charon and out of Sol, then we contain him and his squads, remember. Michael keeps them isolated from the Marine battlenets.

Full Agent Michael Rose suddenly said.

Mason ordered.

He had not done anything like this for a good couple of years, he thought. It was just like the old days in Imperial Intelligence, except this time, he was doing it for himself.

said the scanners officer aboard the SFSS Savageness,

It is starting, thought Karina Cartagne to herself. The time had arrived. The Savageness strikecruiser had been burning at full propulsion towards the outer limits of the Sol system.

said the data-tac officer.

said the comms officer.

demanded Commander Laslos.

A tactical holo-map appeared before the senior officers. said the scanners officer.

said Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne on their private channel.

said Commander Laslos, having read the data download from System Command on Mars, He stood up. he said,

said Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne.

said scanners.

said Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne.

said Commander Laslos, sitting back down in his chair.

said the tactical officer.

said the comms officer, Savageness is the biggest capital ship directly on-scene.>

said Commander Laslos. It meant that the decision to fire was entirely his, based on how the ship responded to hails once it had translated. It was Commander Laslos’ decision alone. Naval officers in space always had tactical superiority over naval officers or army officers on the ground in situations such as this, another hangover from the days of the Red Imperium.

Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne looked at her command consoles. It fed her information about the status of the entire ship, and the Pluto battlenet. There were two frigates in orbit around Pluto, which were also responding, and Pluto Planetary Command were redirecting their planetary batteries towards the incoming threat.

It was an unannounced jump, and as unlikely as a hostile threat would be here in the Sol System, standard operating procedure demanded that it was dealt with correctly. Further out, a battlecruiser, a starcarrier, and another two strikecruisers were incoming, but the closest was perhaps another ten minutes distant. Only the Savageness was in position to provide a heavy response, although of course should the ship be hostile, the planetary weapons on Pluto and some of its moons, and the numerous orbital gun platforms, were more than enough to respond. The entire planet of Pluto was a military base in its own right, it was a fortress.

Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne knew what and who the incoming starship was of course, and it was little more than a very clever diversion.

she said on their private channel,

said the Major.

said one of the agents disguised as a crewmember.

With that, Karina Cartagne unholstered her handlas, raised it to her left across her body, and shot Commander Laslos point-blank in the head.

They had sealed the command centre behind them, taking a turbolift directly towards the upper levels just beneath the surface of the moon of Charon. Full Agent Elayne Mulland had seen to the physical securing of the command centre of the Weapons Facility, even as Michael Rose had been tampering with the datasphere and mainframe.

warned Special Agent Yanto.

said Agent Rose, pausing then adding, Savageness is holding the fire command.>

Karina, thought Mason with a slight quickening of his heart, you are here.

As the doors to the turbolift opened, Mason Duboise said,

The four CID officers proceeded out into the cavernous launch level. It was of a fantastic size, holding all manner of ships, shuttles and landers. There were ten intrastellar cargo-lifters lined up in launch berths, each a specific type of intrastellar shuttle carrying a fully-laden detachable cargo-tank.

As the travellator droid took them along the ships, some of Mason’s comrades began to step off, heading for specific cargo-lifters.

said Mason Duboise, hailing the form of Lieutenant Beringer as he stood before one of the cargo-lifters.

said Lieutenant Beringer. He was wearing his full marine power-armour, StarCom Federation Armed Forces symbol displayed proudly on the chest piece and left shoulder. He was young, but the armour made all the Marines look alike so it was impossible to tell.

Of course they are, thought Mason, we only had a narrow window to do this. With that he downloaded the special virus programme to Beringer. It was an excellent fake, with verified datastreams showing rebel forces attempting to seize the facility.

breathed Lieutenant Beringer.

said Mason. he added.

Your life, anyway, he thought privately.

Karina looked around the bridge. It was sheer devastation and carnage. Some of the crew were hers, and those that were not lay dead on the floor at the feet of the Marines loyal to Major Eborozkev, and the mysterious agents that had been sent to help her.

The agents terrified her. They were some kind of cybernetic biomorph, a form of life she had heard and read about, but never actually met. The Faceless assassins were rumoured to be biomorphs, but it was an advanced technology that was more myth than rumour, just like the Faceless. She was seeing them in front of her now though. The people they were ostensibly working for were evidently more powerful than she had ever suspected.

The biomorphs could actually change shape. As they began their attack, they moulded themselves into different bodies and shapes, becoming grotesque figures of nightmare as blades sprouted from arms and weaponry implants began to fire. They were quick and efficient, outpacing even the Praetorian Marines amongst the StarCom Marines loyal to her. They ate through Marine power armour as if it were no more substantial than air. In their natural form, the biomorphs wore some kind of black synth-skin suit, their features blank and faces no more than a vague androgynous caricature of a human. They did not even look human.

We have given you the ship, said what she assumed was the lead biomorph. The Master has aided you. Do not fail the Master.

She could not answer, merely turning to Major Eborozkev. she asked.

he replied,

said Lieutenant-Commander Cartagne weakly. She was used to war, but this was treachery she knew. Her own treachery to gain control of the ship.

said the person who had assumed the scanners position.

she demanded.

The holomap showed the ship coming in, appearing in a flash of bright white light as it translated from hyperspace into realspace. It was a Type-III cargo-freighter, shorn of any cargo-tanks and looking very much like a famished beast. The support struts to lock in and hold the cargo-tanks against its spinal main body looked like ribs, and made it appear skeletal.

said the comms officer, loyal to her, SS Creative.>

she said.

As the datastreams went out over the datasphere, to mislead the StarCom Federation she had abruptly turned against, she looked at the ship being displayed before her. Connor, she whispered aloud, my son.

Commodore Reardon was stood in the command centre on Pluto, which was the nerve centre of the entire military planet. He had overall command, in the absence of a ranking Admiral.

So, run that by me again, he demanded.

"The Savageness has challenged and identified the Creative, said his Captain, the second-in-command. It was in transit, actually due to come in-system in eight hours’ time at one of the designated jump-points. However, it suffered a major power loss, a catastrophic failure in two of its three power generators. They had to dump their cargo-tanks or they would have run out of oxygen. They’ve only just made it; they mis-jumped. It was either that or die, apparently. The ident, story, and scans of the ship checks out, reports Commander Laslos."

Hmmm, Reardon grimaced. Unusual, but it is the most likely explanation. Very well. He sat back down in his command chair.

came the response.

said his Captain suddenly. The tone warned Commodore Reardon, and he immediately tensed again.

he said.

Commodore Reardon’s eyes widened. He knew what the drill was.

As the cargo-lifters sped away from the moon of Charon, the portion of the military base that was Pluto and was facing the moon began to fire. The moon and the planetoid were tidally locked, so they constantly faced each other. In case the Weapons Facility security was ever irreparably breached, beyond all the remote-controlled detonation devices, the back-up plan was that the Pluto planetary weapons could smash a large hole into the surface of the planet where the Weapons Facility was located.

The blackness of space turned into a strobing of light as powerful capital turbolasers, torpedoes and nuclear-tipped missiles streaked across the void between the two astral bodies. With twenty seconds, the ground around the Weapons Facility had been torn and ripped away, and the Weapons Facility within was being utterly destroyed.

Mason signalled.

she replied on the datasphere they had established.

she said. Creative to collect the cargo-tanks, and we’re taking you in. We’ll claim that there are rebels aboard the lifters. We’ll destroy two as per the plan to add to the confusion. We have to keep Commodore Reardon on his toes or were sunk.>

said Mason, out of habit.

Commodore Reardon read the reports coming through. There was something about the whole situation that did not seem right.

A cargo-freighter, conveniently shorn of its cargo-tanks, enters the Sol System unannounced and unexpectedly. Almost at the same time, the Weapons Facility emits an Omega Signal, which is used by every StarCom facility to indicate that it had been penetrated or captured. Senior Associate Duboise launches the cargo-lifters, which were in any case intended to transfer the weaponry to the Uranian Shipyards in less than five days’ time, so would be fully laden with whatever it was they made in the Weapons Facility.

The order of events was quick. The cargo-tanks were being launched, jettisoned, and would be taken up by the Creative on the orders of Commander Laslos. Laslos was capturing escape pods launched from some of the lifters, and was now busy destroying some of them and directing Reardon’s frigates to do the same.

He discussed it with his Captain. said the Captain,

Reardon nodded. It was a career-sinking decision he knew, but he had to go with his gut instinct. Savageness,> he said, Creative and keep it under close target-lock. They are not even to move, or Laslos must fire. Retrain our orbital platforms onto it as well. Ask the Marine General to prepare boarding parties for launch via strikepod immediately.>

Mason Duboise walked onto the bridge of the Savageness, his escape pod having been collected. He crossed the bridge, and despite the carnage all around, went straight up to Karina Cartagne and kissed her on the cheek. It was so wrong, considering the surroundings and the situation.

My love, he said, I like your new ship. How far away are the StarCom forces?

"The battlecruiser is just coming into long-range. The Creative is under target-lock by us, and the orbital gun platforms and some of the planetary batteries on Pluto. The Charon Weapons Facility has been utterly destroyed."

All the evidence gone then, said Mason with a nod. Well, then, time for us to stop pretending now I guess.

she ordered, Creative to engage full propulsion on this heading, and prepare to jump. We’re both leaving.>

added Mason.

Chapter III

The new President Giovanna Pereyra was pacing in the personal office of the Presidential Chambers, within the Palace of Communications on Earth. She had the dividing wall pulled back, so she could look out across the rest of the expansive personal quarters now assigned to her.

Her first order had been to have the hololiths of the previous incumbent, President Nielsen, removed and destroyed. A hololith depicting her election in the Star Parliamentary Hall had been erected in the centre of the wide lounge area, but that was her only concession to self-grandisement.

She had been Vice-President to Rebeccah Nielsen, during the latter days of the Red Empire and the emerging birth of the StarCom Federation. She had watched Nielsen descend further and further into paranoid insanity, pushing the nation they had jointly created into even greater forms of state control over the people they conquered. The growing atrocities committed during the waves of invasions to vastly increase the StarCom Federation to its current size had convinced Pereyra she had to remove Nielsen, and so she had with the help of First Lord Al-Zuhairi from the OutWorlds Alliance and a hefty payment to the Faceless Assassins.

She sipped from the lemon tea as she moved to the observation window, looking out at the pool outside. She had been voted in as President by a hefty majority of the Star Parliament, although of course it was a fixed vote. The Star Parliament did what a few powerful people said, the Directors of the Federal divisions, and they had said to vote for the popular Pereyra; it had been that way since the days of the True Emperor.

Her promise to those Directors was to reverse the state control and the paranoid policies of Nielsen, remove the fear, and privately to try and amend the aggressive expansionist war-mongering tendencies of the StarCom Federation. It was a very difficult undertaking indeed, partly because many still agreed with the objective of imperialism, if not the method Nielsen had employed.

The holomap of the StarCom Federation was still in place in the personal office. After the destruction of the Red Empire, StarCom had claimed the Sol System as its own. In the year that had passed, they had expanded rapidly. They now owned a vast proportion of the Core, a rough sphere of Federation territory expanding out from Earth, and in the east and north had progressed into the Mid-Sectors, although they were now withdrawing as they could not hold the systems they had taken. Much of her life had consisted of those withdrawal and surrender talks. She was not giving up any of the territory in the Core though, and she was facing increasing hostility from all directions as the Houses worried about the still considerable strength of the Federation.

Her deep, brown eyes, misleadingly soft and peaceful, fell upon the holographic report open on her desk. It was another revised summary of the human, capital asset and monetary cost of the failed Levitican War against the Levitican Union, the war which broke the back of the Federation campaign of aggression, their version of Napoelon’s Moscow. It contained estimates of the loss of income through external trade, due to the ongoing interstellar outrage over their annihilation of Alwathbah using the Tears of the Moon weapons of planetary destruction.

And now I am facing yet more fall-out from that atrocity, she whispered aloud to herself.

A personal assistance droid floated into the personal office. it said across the datasphere.

the borg Pereyra said.

She did not wear the presidential robes and other trappings of office that Nielsen had made famous, keeping them for international or public dealings, instead preferring a business-like modern-cut suit. It reflected the hard and uncompromising edge that ran through her, a side that her welcoming and warm manner successfully hid. She straightened the short lapels, touched the StarCom symbol on the left breast for luck, and assumed position standing behind the red leather, antique Terran desk.

Director Malika Chbihi and Commander-In-Chief Ryan entered the room, the latter red-faced and struggling somewhat with his ever-increasing weight. Jaiden Ryan certainly looked a lot happier, underneath all his military bearing, confident he was once again serving someone who would not waste his vast military resources unnecessarily. He had been in charge of StarCom’s secret armed forces during the Red Empire, and had several decades’ worth of knowledge of the old StarCom Networks’ carefully hidden construction of a vast military army and navy. He was jovial, but dangerous, and had displayed little compunction in disposing himself of his political adversaries.

Director Malika Chbihi was in charge of their intelligence service, the Central Intelligence Division. She had masterminded the slow penetration and corruption of Imperial Intelligence in the run-up to the collapse of the Red Empire of Mars, and was in herself a feared and powerful figure. Rough spoken, astute in analysis of any given situation, harsh in judgement and ruthless in decisions she was a powerhouse in the old pre-Imperial StarCom Network and post-Dissolution StarCom Federation.

They had served together under Nielsen for many years, and they had disposed of her together.

Malika, Jaiden, please sit, she said, gesturing at the suspensor chairs before her. Despite her offer, they waited until she was seated behind the antique desk. Now explain to me, what in the name of the Emperor happened this morning?

Ryan and Chbihi glanced at each other, the unspoken look asking which one began first.

It has taken some time to piece together what has happened, said Director Malika Chbihi, and the full picture is still developing.

The destruction of the Charon Weapons Facility by Pluto Planetary Command has not helped matters, said Ryan, but they were following standard orders. No blame can be attached to Commodore Reardon, the officer in charge. All the military procedures were sound – it is more that they were used against us, by someone on the inside who knew how to take advantage.

I am not Rebeccah Nielsen looking to apportion blame, said Giovanna Pereyra gently. It is more important to understand and resolve this. Just give me the facts, please.

Ryan continued with more confidence, "False datastreams and numerous viruses have made it difficult for us to ascertain exactly what happened on Charon. All we know is that whatever was happening there was deliberately obscured from the datasphere connection with Pluto, and that at some point whoever it was managed to get ten cargo-lifters off-planet. The arrival in-system of the cargo-freighter Creative was a distraction, deliberate to allow the Savageness strikecruiser to near Charon under valid pretence and to make us think the situation was under control. We think that by that point the Savageness was already captured by unknown agents, in the twenty or so minutes from launching from repair at the Shipyards."

It must have been. Is there any identity on the perpetrators? asked Pereyra.

None, so far, said Director Chbihi. "Their viruses and data programmes have obscured their identities and actions brilliantly. It is highly advanced. The real data was destroyed when the SCAF – rightly – destroyed Charon Weapons Facility. The Creative went missing a week ago on a standard jump-path to Sol, and was obviously taken by these unknown people for the purpose of jumping in here with a semi-plausible cover story."

"We were searching for the Creative, but with our fleets being repaired and much more important things to worry about, we were not treating it as a high priority, said Ryan. Starships mis-jump or navigators make mistakes not infrequently, so it is not unusual, not even this close to Sol. I have changed the priority. Missing shipping will become a top priority from now on."

"It is conjecture but the Savageness was obviously taken by naval staff already aboard, said Chbihi. I know you are against Nielsen’s decision to have CID staff on every naval vessel, President, but it does tell us through analysis of the naval crew that there was a significant anti-StarCom sentiment amongst the crew, worsened by the wars they had fought in."

Much of the StarCom navy had been formed from ex-Praetorian Guard joining the SCAF. Nielsen had wanted to ensure the loyalty of False Emperor and True Emperor Praetorians working together on her ships, so had ensured that even aboard the naval vessels there were Central Intelligence Department spies and political officers monitoring the crews.

I still intend to revoke that level of state-sponsored investigation, this notwithstanding, said President Pereyra. "We need to show our people trust. As well as being a waste of resource. But continue. The Savageness had a higher than normal rogue element, and they took the ship. What else do we know about what happened?"

In terms of hard facts, little else, said Commander-In-Chief Ryan. "We are searching for where the Creative had actually been hiding. We know they jumped to an uninhabited system, called JR-238, and moved the cargo-tanks off the Creative on to some other ship, and then destroyed the Creative. We are analysing the salvage now, but they seem so thorough, we are unlikely to discover anything of use. They actually took the data mainframe from the ship with them, or removed and destroyed it."

This bit is conjecture, said Director Chbihi, "but it is our best theory. We have searched for links between the Savageness, Creative, and the Charon Weapons Facility. We have found one." As she spoke, holographic images appeared before her. The first was of a man.

This is Mason Duboise, an open member of the Central Intelligence Department since Dissolution, and one of our spies within Imperial Intelligence in the run-up to the deposing of the False Emperor. He was vatborn on Mars, augmented naturally. That he was Mars-born and scored highly in intelligence and aptitude led to his early selection in youth for Imperial Intelligence. Despite his apparent loyalty to the Red Empire and Imperial Intelligence, like many he was in truth loyal to us for over a decade. With us, he was ranked Senior Associate, and requested a non-field service role in the Sol System post-Dissolution. He had been a field agent for the Imperial Intelligence, and claimed to loathe it. He was trusted due to the quality of the information he had been providing, and his deep hatred of the False Emperor, so he was given a high security clearance. He was assigned to Charon Weapons Facility four months ago, in charge of the four other agents we had on the station.

Go on, prompted President Pereyra. The image changed to a woman.

"This is Lieutenant-Commander Karina Cartagne of the Savageness strikecruiser, where she was second-in-command. She was popular with many of the crew. She was a member of the StarCom navy before it was officially revealed, receiving military training. She was formerly vatborn in House Mannerton, augmented, and going back through her records, joined Imperial service within the Solar Administration as a junior member. There was a particular incident I will explain in a moment, which caused her to leave Imperial service and join StarCom, where her hatred of the False Emperor and superb natural abilities prompted her selection for the secret navy. She served there for many years, and qualified highly. She played a role in our wars of expansion. But it was in the Administration prior to her joining StarCom that she actually met Duboise some twenty-five years ago."

That is a bit of a long, tenuous link, said Pereyra, in what manner did they meet.

Chbihi gave her typical furious frown. She was a Solar Administrator’s trusted staff member, dealing with an intelligence breach, and Duboise was an Imperial Intelligence agent taking part in the operation. They met professionally, so to speak. They got on extremely well, and they had a child together.

A child? said Pereyra. But they were both vatborn, so of the wrong class to have child-rights, surely?

Correct, said Director Chbihi. According to Imperial record the child was actually born, but discovered some months later. He was removed from his mother, and terminated as he was born without licence. We have had cause to pay close examination to this record, and my best analysts are saying that the data twenty-five years ago..... has been faked. Possibly by one of the agents who coincidentally was serving with Mason Duboise.

A double link, commented Pereyra.

We have since found that Mason had some form of link to three of the four agents on Charon, said Director Chbihi, either having served together or in one case having been tutored together. The child Connor Cartagne, however, disappears completely from Imperial record – at about the same time as Karina left the Administration in disgrace, and Mason went on a long-term undercover mission for Imperial Intelligence on the Frontier.

Also, said Ryan, "the Savageness was one of the ships escorting the Tears of the Moon warheads that were developed on Charon to the front during our period of expansion. She could have come across the information as to where they were developed, and passed it on to Mason. The timings fit, from when the Savageness was transporting the Tears of the Moon, and when Mason applied for the position at Charon."

Chbihi continued, "We have analysed the crew manifest for the Creative, and have discovered an interesting fact. One of the crew members was called Connor, was of the right age, and using regressive holographic forensics if we work his holo-lith picture back is likely to have been the child that was supposedly terminated. The identity data was also faked twenty-three years ago, we think. Maybe by the same ex-Imperial Intelligence agent Duboise had on the Facility with him."

There was a long silence, and Pereyra was covering her mouth with her hands. The coincidences are too strong, she said. Mason Duboise and Karina Cartagne fell in love and had a child, Connor, who was killed by the Red Empire for being illegally born. There comes their hatred of the Empire, and why they both ended up working for StarCom.

"And in this incident, all three were present either aboard the Savageness, the Creative, or the Charon Weapons Facility, said Ryan. We have our ringleaders at least."

It is a viable explanation, nodded Pereyra. If you believe lower-class people can feel the joy and loyalty to families the way we do. Director Chbihi, I want to pursue this as much as you can. Put your best people on it.

I already have.

Good. Do we have any idea as to motivation? I mean we can see why they were so anti-Empire, and see the link between them, but we don’t know why they turned against StarCom .... Pereyra trailed off then, knowing full well that Nielsen’s leadership of StarCom had disillusioned many of its citizenry, ... or more to the point, why they struck Charon Weapons Facility.

The Duboise-Cartagne family were after Charon specifically, said Chbihi, and it is reasonable to assume that as they attempted to steal ten cargo-tanks loaded with prototypes and production-line advanced weaponry, that the military technology and armament is what they really wanted. What they intend to do with it we do not know, but it is highly dangerous. Her voice dropped. Unbelievably so.

Apart from what they intend to do with what they stole, this question worries me the most of all, said President Pereyra, what precisely did they manage to steal, besides an entire S-class strikecruiser? Have we worked that out?

That was simple, said Ryan, slowly. His usual jovial grin had been conspicuously absent throughout the conversation. "We have independent physical checks and reports of what was aboard the cargo-tanks, as they were being loaded. We managed to destroy four of the cargo-tanks and damage a fifth, so it never made dock with the cargo-freighter as the Savageness protected it, but they did take five whole tanks. From their serial numbers and ident codes we have a full manifest."

A holographic representation appeared, describing each item as he spoke. "In total, they have one hundred and forty brand new next-generation Wotan-class InterStellar Hyperspace Missiles, eighty of which are the ship-borne space-launching SB variant, and sixty of which are the planet-launching PB variant. Top secret technology, the best of their kind, with the design literally approved following successful testing only three months ago.

They have twenty thousand newly developed Eater- IV nanobot warheads and forty thousand Eater-IV small-craft bombs. Figures began to appear next to the descriptions and images as he continued. "They have stolen a vast amount of equipment, including some brand new prototype vehicles, including one massive ISHM launcher for the Wotan-class, two types of battlewalker, a fighter and two bombers. They have three brand new super-strength planetary shield generators which were designed to help protect Earth itself. It could only be assumed that they had access to all of StarCom’s weaponry programmes and designs. They have ten prototypes of a brand new ship-borne turbolaser, also untested.

They also have warheads classified as Weapons of System and Planetary Destruction, said Ryan, the fear in his voice. They have twenty Grim Reaper biological planetary warheads, which can be coded to specific DNA types for eliminating specific types of people, and twenty planetbusting tectonic-effect Earthshaker warheads, technology some of the other nations will also have. But they have five of the top-secret prototype Supernova warheads, system destroyers yet to be tested. And they have forty Tears of the Moon, the climactic effect weaponry which proved to be so effective on Alwathbah, and which up until now only we had possession of.

President Pereyra paled. This is a security breach of unprecedented proportions, isn’t it, she said quietly.

It could be a galaxy-wide tragedy if they are terrorists, said Ryan.

We don’t know if they are working for someone, intend to sell them, or are going to use them, said Chbihi sternly. Conjecture is useless at this point. We have to recover them.

We can’t protect all the Federation planets against this, said Pereyra. They have the weapons of mass destruction, and the means to deliver them – we just have to hope they don’t have the capability to launch them.

I’m strengthening all our more isolated launch facilities now, said Ryan, but we expanded so quickly, and our military is so badly stretched and in need of repair, we can’t protect them all adequately. We have started sweeps of local systems, but as more time elapses it becomes less likely we will catch them.

Intelligence is the key, said Pereyra. Director Chbihi, put your very, very best people on this, you too Ryan. I’m authorising a kill-order on all people connected to this, with suspicion proven or not. And Emperor, we have to keep this quiet from the other Houses and nations. If word of this gets out .....

We are already on it, said Director Chbihi firmly, with a look at Ryan.

*

The binary solar system of EC-981 was uninhabited, both suns being weak and the planets largely devoid of life or worth. It was not on an accepted major trade route as registered with the Interstellar Merchants Guild, although in the Core virtually any system could have ships transiting through, the colonisation and inhabitation in the Core was so dense. The Core was the oldest part of the colonised galaxy, predating even the Red Empire, going back to the first waves of initial expansion of the human race into the stars.

At one edge of the binary solar system, there were three starships.

One was a fusion-tanker, a Praetorian Guard G-Class starship. Most starships recharged their jump capacitors through solar energy, hence the major trade routes tended to pass through systems with stronger suns. It was possible to ‘hotwire’ a starship, recharging it from the power generators, but such techniques could damage a starships’ faster-than-light capabilities and lead to possible mis-jumps. The only other option, besides docking at a spacestation to recharge, or using a stargate, was a mobile starship called a fusion-tanker which could safely re-fuel a space craft for interstellar travel.

The fusion-tanker had been linked up to both of the other starships, although those direct power-lines were now severed and retracting back into the G-class military support ship as it began to accelerate away from the two ships it had escorted this far to the galactic south of StarCom Federation territory.

One of the other starships was the S-class strikecruiser Savageness, still bearing some of the damage it had taken in the Sol System defending the Creative. Of the Creative there was no sign, it having been abandoned and destructively scuppered in a system much closer to Sol. Its cargo-tanks had been transferred to the third ship.

The final ship was a massive Type-IV cargo-freighter, with no less than fifteen cargo-tank berths. Five of these were the cargo-tanks stolen from Charon, six were carrying legitimate cargo, and four of the berths were empty. The cargo-freighter was named the SS Harrenfall Express.

The fusion-tanker had reached maximum acceleration, and its jump initiation capacitors had been fully firing. The warp accelerators in the nacelles engaged with a flare of white light, the ship extended beyond human imagining, and in the blink of an eye it disappeared into the launch horizon of its interstellar faster-than-light jump into hyperspace.

Mason Duboise watched the fusion-tanker jump out-system, hands on his hips in his characteristic stance. His eyes were narrowed, the image reflected in the metaglass windows of their private quarters aboard the Harrenfall Express. The quarters were for the few paying guests a cargo-freighter sometimes carried, but their son had given them permanently to his parents.

Karina Cartagne put her arms through his, clasping them shut just over his waist. He smiled slightly, enjoying the feel of his one and only love against him. They had been apart most of their lives, but the love had never gone. Apart from in the early days when they had lived together on the Frontier as a family with their illegal son whilst he worked for Imperial Intelligence, they had grown used to the separation. Hopefully they would never be apart for so long in the rest of their lives.

What are you thinking? she asked with her breath hot against his neck. He rejoiced in