Starship Renegades: Uprising: Starship Renegades, #1

By S.J. Bryant

A derelict ship. The salvage of a lifetime. A ragtag crew.

The Imperium took everything from Kari. With the rebellion dead, she's forced to fight from the shadows.

Salvaging a stranded Imperium ship offers the perfect opportunity. But when Kari and her crew arrive, they find more questions than loot. Where are the crew? What happened to the other raiders? And what is the ship's AI hiding in the restricted zones?

The secrets will change Kari's life. But with the Imperium on their heels, death comes faster than answers.

Join the Starship Renegades for an action-filled space adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Saffron Bryant
• Release date: Oct 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393505051

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Kari's boots crunched on the worn cement of the underground tunnel. It fed deeper, joining a warren of other passages, like a giant sewage network that housed the people of Zenith. It didn't smell much different from a sewer either; that's what happened when too many people lived crammed together without enough water to drink, let alone wash in.

Just another reason she hated coming planet-side. She'd take the skies over the tunnels any day, but she couldn't trust anyone else to make the delivery. So here she was, lugging a wooden crate that weighed at least five pounds through the filth of Zenith.

Kari tried to keep the annoyance from her face, tried to keep her expression smooth. It would be just her luck to get spotted by an enforcer, and then what? Death, that's what.

Two burly men in thick overcoats leaned against the tunnel wall, the butts of their plasma pistols peeking out from their belts. Kari nodded; she'd shared a drink with them once or twice, couldn't remember their names though.

They'd be keeping lookout for the rebels—what was left of the Starship Renegades—to make sure there weren't any enforcers lurking around. They should also let Sandy know that Kari was on the way. Good. Kari didn't want to waste any time talking to some drone or nobody. She wanted to get in and out, no small talk, no checks. The sooner she left these goddamned tunnels, the better.

The smell of sweat and human filth got stronger the deeper she went. The weak vents did nothing to ease the stench and the brief puff of air every time Kari passed one was like a foul-mouthed creature breathing on her face. The smell and the close tunnel walls suffocated her, and she longed for the open air of space.

She just had to make the drop, then she could get back to Ghost and get the hell off of Zenith.

People, so thin that their eyes bulged out of their heads, huddled at the sides of the tunnels. Kari tried not to notice them; half of them probably weren't as poor as they looked anyway. If life had taught her one thing, it was that there was always another lie. No matter how far you dug, no matter how many deceptions you managed to peel away, there would always be another one. So the beggars at the side of the tunnel with blue-splotched faces and gaping wounds might have been close to death and suffering from cave fever… but half of them probably weren't.

And if they were… well… it wasn't like she had tokens to spare anyway.

Maybe one day the rebels would win and life would get better for these bastards, but probably not.

A commotion poured out of a side tunnel and into the main passage. People pressed themselves to the edges; strangers crushing their bodies against each other to get away from the middle of the passage.

Kari stood her ground until she saw the armored pair that strode down the center of the tunnel as if they owned it; crystal hunters. Kari scowled but she scuttled out of the way and sandwiched herself between a heavy-set merchant and a kid whose skin hung from his thin bones.

The hunters wore thick plates of radiation shielding that hid even their faces and they swung their arms in huge arcs, showing a confidence that didn't belong in the tunnels of Zenith.

Kari's scowl deepened. Who did they think they were? Just because they were stupid enough to risk their lives for a few geodes didn't mean they were better than anyone else. But all the same, she stayed pressed to the side of the tunnel until the hunters passed. Then she elbowed past the merchant and joined the flow of people through the tunnel.

Whatever the hunters were doing down in the tunnels, it was sure to be no good. They had no reason to be down here, not when they could afford to live in the shielded complexes above ground. They might have been selling some geodes to a crystal cleanser, but all the good ones lived above ground. The ones in the tunnels could barely pull a gram of katium out of a five-pound geode. Although, they were still better off than everyone else on Zenith.

Kari shook her head and shifted the weight of the box in her arms. There was no point thinking about that; it wouldn't do her any good.

She rounded a corner and the echo of voices from the main tunnel faded away. It was darker here; fewer buzzing fluorescent lights with more patches of darkness between. The bulbs seemed dimmer too, though that might have been Kari's imagination.

No beggars in this tunnel; people knew better than to loiter in the side tunnels, especially the ones in this part of the city. Fewer legs to step over.

Eyes watched her from the shadows but kept her gaze straight ahead. If they attacked her, the box would slow her down, on the other hand, she doubted any of the shadows lurking at the sides of the tunnel had a plasma blaster on them. The one at her hip would make quick work of any would-be attackers.

Several corners—and a few hidden passages—later, Kari came to a well-lit room with a solid door blocking the tunnel beyond. Beside the door hung a tattered flag with the Renegades logo: two pistols with wings behind. Once that logo had filled Kari with pride, now it made her feel sick.

A blond-haired woman leaned against a bench in front of the door. She tossed her cigarette to the floor and crunched it under her boot as Kari approached.

Heard you were coming, she said.

Sandy, Kari said. She nodded at the cigarette still smoldering on the ground. They'll kill you.

Sandy held her arms wide. If it means the enforcers don't get a chance to kill me, then I say bring it on.

Kari didn't bother replying—she could never quite understand Sandy's brand of humor—and instead dropped the box of guns onto the bench with a solid thud.

Sandy raised an eyebrow. What do you have for me?

Few guns. Couple of explosives.

Sandy pried off the lid and let out a low whistle as she looked inside. Nice. Very nice. She started to drag the box to the side of the bench. The rebellion appreciates—

Kari slapped her hand down on the lid so that it snapped closed. Two hundred.

Sandy snatched her hand back before it could be trapped in the box and scowled. Do you want the rebellion to go broke?

Rebellion is no good to me if I starve to death. Kari kept her hand on the lid. It didn't matter how much she wanted to see the Imperium and their enforcers go down, she refused to do a job without getting paid. She'd been a part of that rebellion once, a proud Renegade, but then they'd let her down, pulled out when they were on the verge of victory. So they could damn well pay her for her work.

I'll give you fifty.

Waste my time and I'll take it somewhere else.

Fine, one hundred.

One seventy-five is the lowest I'll go.

A sly smile crept over Sandy's face. You give it to me for one fifty and I'll throw in some news that I think you'll be very interested in.

What kind of news?

Do we have a deal?

Kari considered the box. She could get a better price if she went to the usual black-market criminals, but they had enough guns as it was, and it wasn't worth the effort—or danger—not for fifty tokens.

Fine. Deal.

Excellent. Sandy pulled the box off the table and placed it beside the solid door.

So, what's this news?

Sandy made a show of looking down the corridor Kari had come from. There was no one there of course. The rebels had lookouts everywhere and Sandy would know if anyone was coming, but she made a show of it just the same. It only succeeded in annoying Kari who wanted to get out of the goddamned tunnels and back to her ship.

Heard of a salvage that might interest you.

Kari raised an eyebrow. Salvages could be good, but if Sandy had heard about it, then so had every decent salvage team worth their fuel. There'd be nothing left by the time Kari arrived.

Ah, Sandy said, holding up her finger. Before you start complaining that I ripped you off, you haven't heard the best bit.

What? Kari said, out of patience and ready to strangle Sandy if she kept drawing it out.

It was an Imperium ship. One of our—associates—took it down.

You're kidding. There was no way anyone would dare. You'd be dead already.

Allegedly they managed it before a signal went out. There's no trace.

Allegedly?

That's what our associates say.

They have a death wish?

Sandy looked uncomfortable.

What?

It's nothing. Go on, I'm sure you have some rocks that need transporting or something.

Kari's face darkened. Tell me whatever you're hiding and stop wasting my goddamned time.

Sandy's cheeks lost some of their color. She leaned forward and spoke in a rapid burst. The ones that took it down, we heard from them just after—they were celebrating before they went on board—but then we didn't hear anything.

So it was a trap.

Not necessarily.

Sounds risky.

There were some pictures; the cruiser wasn't going anywhere. And it was a big one. Think of all the stuff you could find on a ship like that?

Kari's mind was already racing, imagining the satisfaction she'd get from salvaging from one of the Imperium's own ships. She licked her lips; it was worth the risk just for the experience, but if she got there before everyone else there'd be a lot of tokens as well. She tried to keep her voice steady and pretended disinterest. A hundred salvagers will have been over it by now.

Maybe, Sandy said. Or maybe not. Only a few of our contacts got the transmission and they've been very particular about who they share it with. The rebellion would like its share of the proceeds.

What are you saying?

I'm saying that maybe if you go to Psiam someone might be willing to make a deal with you.

Why the hell would I go all the way to Psiam, when you're right here?

Some of Sandy's happiness faded.

Well?

They wouldn't give me the info! Okay? They just said that if I saw anyone who might be interested in making a deal, that I should send them on.

Doesn't sound like standard rebel protocol.

Sandy's frown deepened. It's the Red Coats.

Kari leaned forward, hands splayed on the bench. What?

It's the Red Coats. They won't tell us anything.

Kari's jaw clenched. I assume you're aware of my previous dealings with the Red Coats.

Sandy stared at the floor.

Great. So you know they won't tell me anything.

Surely you can put aside your differences for something this big.

Kari doubted the Red Coats would be so accommodating. Why the hell should she travel all the way to Psiam to chase a lead that might go nowhere? She couldn't afford to waste the fuel and it would mean passing up on whatever jobs were waiting this side of the planet.

Could be a good drop, Sandy said.

What's in it for you?

Sandy shrugged. Commission.

Kari snorted and held out her hand. You owe me two hundred tokens.

One hundred and fifty, Sandy said, counting the tokens onto Kari's palm. I gave you the info, and it's good. It's your choice if you want to pass it up.

Kari closed her hand around the tokens. It would be enough money to make the trip to Psiam, so she wouldn't be dead in the water. And if she could somehow talk to the Red Coats and if this thing did pay off…

Fine, Kari said, tucking the tokens into a hidden pocket of her shirt. Tell your contact I'll come and see them.

Sandy grinned. Good choice. Try the Hard Nox bar, they'll talk to you if they like the look of you.

And if they don't like the look of me?

Sandy shrugged. Enjoy a drink and leave?

Kari rolled her eyes and turned away, striding back down the tunnel. The more she thought of the job, the harder it was to keep a steady pace and not break into a jog. The last thing she needed to do was draw attention to herself—although at least she didn't have a box of illegal guns on her now—but the more time she wasted, the bigger chance there was of someone else taking her salvage.

It was hers, dammit!

CHAPTER 2

Atticus stared up at the classic Class-4 Phantom as he popped another sugar cube onto his tongue and memories surged through him; of distant planets, and people and adventures many years gone. He didn't see many Phantoms anymore. Even the people of Zenith—those that could afford ships at all—could usually afford something more modern. But what good was modern? Modern couldn't hold a candle to classic.

People milled around him, like a river around a rock. He was dimly aware of their voices; it was the bubbly chatter of people haggling at market. They'd be trying to get any last-minute shopping done before the sun came up and turned the whole place into a deserted wasteland. He hadn't missed the scorching radiation that burned Zenith from the too-close sun. It was sad to think that some of the people here had never known the feel of a gentle sun, the way it warmed the flesh and reflected off the ocean. All they knew was the burning, the harsh glare, the fear, and the slow, painful deaths.

He tried not to let his thoughts go down that path. There was too much sadness and darkness in the Universe. But, if he could bring just a small spark of joy, then maybe he'd die happy. And where better to bring happiness than a classic Phantom? And if that Phantom should happen to belong to Kari Nyseth—legend of the rebellion—then so much the better.

You lost?

Atticus blinked his memories away and turned to face the woman who'd spoken. She wore a black cloak and thin braids pinned half her hair close to her head.

You must be Kari, he said, holding out his hand.

She looked down at it, eyes narrowed. Do I know you?

No, Atticus said. But I've heard of you. He didn't add that he'd received more than enough warnings about her prickly personality and instead offered a smile.

What do you want?

Passage on your ship. Atticus nodded up at the Phantom and let his eyes travel along the sweeping curves.

Kari frowned. We're not a tour bus.

No, but you offer transport sometimes.

You don't even know where we're going.

Doesn't matter much. Atticus tried to think of some way to break through the woman's defenses, but it was like trying to handle live bomb. He had no doubt that she had a reason for being so unfriendly—everyone had their histories—but it did make it hard to talk to her.

He's interested in the ship. A man sauntered down the Phantom's ramp. He wore a pistol at each hip and had a shotgun slung over his shoulder. He's been staring at it for half an hour.

Atticus held out his hand. Atticus Halfpenny.

Ryker, the man said. His muscles bulged as he gripped Atticus' hands,