Starship Renegades: Rebellion: Starship Renegades, #9

By S.J. Bryant

The Final Fight

 

Everything Kari ever believed was a lie. Now the true powers are planning to kill every person on Zenith. Already thousands have died.

 

Kari and her crew are the only ones that can stop the slaughter and save the planet.

 

But first they will have to overcome demons of their own.

 

This is Kari's last chance to save Zenith and end the rebellion. But what if the cost is too high?

 

Get it Now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Saffron Bryant
• Release date: Jun 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393118725

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Kari pressed her hand to her throbbing side and tried not to let her pulse increase. Any strain to her heart or lungs only brought pain, and the slight risk of death. But how could she stay calm? Something—or someone—had been secretly controlling the whole of the Raxis system for a very long time. Like a puppet master standing in the shadows. Worse. They'd stamped their symbol all over both planets and Kari hadn't even noticed.

Atticus rubbed bloodshot eyes as he leaned against Ghost's engines. Grease covered his hands and clothes. I still don't know who they are and I could only narrow down their location to an approximate area of space. It could take months to locate anything there, especially if they're using a moving ship like that last Imperium facility.

If it takes months then it takes months, Kari said. How many times had they had this conversation in the last three days? It felt like a hundred. What more did Atticus want? He'd been lucky to get as much information as he had, the chances of scraping more from the back end of the Cloud were minuscule.

That's if this engine lasts that long, Atticus muttered. It's held together with luck and sticky tape, remember?

I trust your work, Kari said.

Good work can only do so much, Piper said, her legs sticking out from the engine, her upper half hidden somewhere beneath.

Ghost's central communication line flashed. Kari frowned. No one used Ghost's line except for telemarketers and Kari already had Ghost's systems filtering all those to a digital junk heap. So who was this?

She took three steps into the pilot's pod and pressed the connect button. Hello?

The front screen flickered, becoming dark except for a pale, bloodstained face.

Gareth? Kari said, leaning forward. She could barely recognize her fellow rebel through the layers of blood and dirt, even though it had only been a couple of weeks since she last saw him.

Kari? Oh, thank the stars. I knew if I kept trying that one of you… at least someone would still be alive.

Gareth, what's going on? Kari said. Is that your blood?

A barrage of noise crackled and rumbled through the speakers. Gareth flinched, ducked his head. When the rumbling stopped, he sat up, eyes huge in Kari's screen. They're attacking. Full force with enforcers and those other… things.

Kari's stomach tensed. The rebellion raged on without her. Meanwhile, she did what? Searched for a conspiracy theory?

No.

She had to believe that she was doing the right thing. Even if it meant leaving good friends, like Gareth, behind. I can't get to you. I'm sorry. I have a mission of my own.

Kari, it was General Klaxis. He led three hundred good people on a suicide mission. They're all dead.

Kari's throat went dry. Three hundred people? All gone? What? Who?

Gareth shook his head, his hair glued firmly to his face with dried blood. Too many to name. You knew a lot of them.

Kari hung her head. Of course she did. She'd been a part of the revolution for how long? Did she really want a list of names?

Klaxis went crazy, Gareth said. Wouldn't listen to us. He led them out and… His voice choked into a sob. They all died.

The general too?

Yes. Rumors say he was the first to go.

Kari kept her lips pressed tight, but in her head she thought good. What was he thinking leading people into a mission like that? He deserved everything he got.

I'm so glad I got hold of you, Gareth said. We need your help.

Kari's gaze slid up to the screen. Gareth…

I know you left, and I know you're working on your own thing. I assume you did something a couple of days ago? Gareth smiled through his tears. Yeah, of course you did. The enforcers went crazy, the attacks here eased for the first time in days. They're back now though.

If I could come back, I would. But there's something I have to do.

We're all going to die, Gareth said. His hands reached up and then the camera angle moved, panning around the room behind him where hundreds of people lay in ragged lines on the floor of a cave.

Kari's breath caught in her throat at the sheer numbers. Where are you?

Lower, lower tunnels, Gareth said. I didn't even realize they went down this far.

But who's fighting? Kari said. The rebellion—

Is dead, Gareth said.

What? Kari's hands tensed on the control board. It can't be dead; it's barely begun.

Gareth shook his head. The Imperium decided not to play by the rules. Well, one of their officers anyway.

What does that mean? What rules?

They're filling the tunnels with gas, Gareth said, the sad smile returning to his face. Slow-acting. I guess they do that so they can live with themselves; it gives us a chance to crawl up and ask for an antidote I guess.

No! Kari said.

Gareth nodded, head dropping. I'm one of the lucky ones. It hasn't hit me so hard yet. But Polly… he drew a ragged breath.

Kari leaned even further forward, her nose almost touching the screen. Where's Polly? What's going on?

Gareth moved the camera again so that it pointed to the ground near his leg. His wife, Polly, lay on a thin sheet, her face pale and her chest rising and falling with tiny gasps. The view returned to Gareth's face. Based on the others, she doesn't have much longer.

Gareth, I'm so sorry.

It's not just us, Gareth said. It's everyone. Even the innocents who live down here, and the children that came with us. They're killing everyone.

They can't gas everyone.

They are, Gareth said. Like I said, someone isn't playing by the rules.

Who?

Based on the news reports, they're hailing a Captain Jic as the hero of the Imperium. That's how he'll be remembered too, as a hero, not a murderer of innocents and children.

Kari could only shake her head.

Please, Gareth said. You have to help us.

I can't, Kari said. I don't even know where you are, and even if I did, what could I possibly do?

Please, Gareth said. I've tried everyone else. No one is answering. I think the Imperium got them. Either that or they've gone to ground.

I can't.

Gareth allowed the camera to pan around the room once more. You're our last chance.

A deep boom and then the room around Gareth rocked. Pebbles and rocks fell from the ceiling. The view flickered and went black. The audio cut out, leaving static.

Kari tried to return Gareth's call but the dull, monotonous beep of a dead line greeted her. She gripped the control board, wishing for any kind of answer. She couldn't leave Gareth and the others to be gassed, but what could she possibly do for them?

She jolted to her feet and stomped out of the pilot's pod, toward the kitchen. Piper fell into step beside her and Atticus trailed behind, a spanner in his hand. That didn't sound good, he said.

How much did you hear?

All of it.

Kari called Wren and Ryker to the kitchen where she repeated what Gareth had said.

Ryker's hands—one normal and one sheathed in metal—clenched into fists. Those bastards. We have to go back. Drop me near the tunnel entrance and I'll tear every damn enforcer in half.

We can't, Wren said. That will only get you killed. One new arm won't help you against an army of enforcers. Besides, we have a bigger mission.

What good is a bigger mission if we let hundreds of innocent people die? Piper said.

Kari's stomach felt as though she'd swallowed a gutful of worms. Atticus?

We need to save those people, but we need to be smart. Like Wren said, Ryker's fists will only get us so far.

Despite the shadows, Kari thought she caught a flash of irritation on Wren's face. She hadn't fully recovered from the poison she'd been given which meant she didn't have her usual control over her expression.

Wren? Kari said.

Whatever the majority decides.

Join the fight, Ryker said. We can chase these damn coordinates any time.

He's right, Atticus said. And I already told you I haven't been able to narrow them down yet. Without more information we might as well be on Zenith as anywhere else.

Kari let out a slow breath. She'd been so sure they were doing the right thing in chasing the power behind the Imperium, but Piper, Ryker and Atticus were right; she couldn't turn her back on her fellow rebels, couldn't let them choke to death in the caves. Right. We save the rebels. But like Atticus said, we do it smart.

Just because I'm half metal, doesn't mean I'm not smart, Ryker grumbled as he took a seat.

Kari activated the wall screen and did a quick search of the Cloud for Captain Jic. His professional biography appeared, along with a picture of him in official Imperium uniform.

Your next date? Ryker said.

Kari scowled. No. This is the man responsible for gassing the tunnels.

I'll kill him, Wren said. Just like any other job. It will be quick and we can get back to the real mission.

That might work, Kari said. But it might also make him a martyr and his people aren't likely to stop the gas.

So what's your plan then? Ryker said.

Kari tapped the wall, pointing to a paragraph of text. We hit him where it hurts, just like he's doing to the rebels.

His family? Ryker said.

Kari nodded once. He's got a sixteen-year-old daughter, Mirriam, on Albion. We take her hostage until he frees the rebels.

Ryker raised an eyebrow. We're kidnapping children?

Hardly a child, Kari said. I'd killed three people by that age.

Wren snorted. Amateur.

Kari shivered to think how many people Wren had killed by sixteen, let alone her current count. She'd probably lost track a long time ago.

Besides, Kari said. We won't hurt her as long as Captain Jic does what we say.

And if he doesn't? Ryker said.

We cross that bridge when we come to it.

I don't like it, Ryker said.

Do you have a better option?

Not unless you're going to drop me on Zenith.

I'm not, Kari said. Other than knowing it was a stupid plan, she didn't quite trust Ryker to look after himself properly. Ever since his encounter with the Imperium and his partial transition to a super-soldier, he'd been different. More reckless, more apathetic. She couldn't trust that he wouldn't get himself killed over something stupid.

Fine, Ryker said. But I'm not hurting the girl.

I'm more than happy to take that job, Wren said.

Kari nodded. She'd been hoping Wren would say that. We'll aim for a quiet extraction. In and out with no fuss, okay?

Wren inclined her head.

Good. I'll get the home address and fly us in. On the way we'll come up with a plan. But, Atticus…

Yes?

We're still going to those coordinates outside of Raxis as soon as we're done here. So keep digging; we need a location. Kari paused at the door. Oh, and better make sure that engine is stuck on tight, I have a feeling this is going to be a bumpy ride.

CHAPTER 2

Picking a disguise was almost as important as picking a weapon in Wren's experience. According to Kari, this captain's estate was remote enough from any main cities on Albion that there wouldn't be a major military presence, but close enough that they weren't likely to have a private militia of mercenaries either. They'd be landing soon, just outside the estate. But what persona would get Wren furthest? Servants usually got to see the truth behind the façade, a good choice for information gathering, but they also got ordered about and questioned; not so good for a quick in-and-out mission where she had to get to the heart of the estate without being interrupted.

Wren selected a shimmering blue toga with a gold sash; one of the most expensive—and ridiculous—pieces of clothing she owned, but the height of fashion on Albion. Another Guild rule; commit to the role one hundred percent. There would be no point trying to half-ass a disguise like this; people would notice.

The toga had been specially designed so that while it looked like the loose-fitting garments common on Albion, it sported dozens of hidden pockets. The slits up the arms and legs meant that it wouldn't impede Wren's movements and a small stitch at the base would stop it from flapping about if she had to start running.

Wren slipped knives and vials into the pockets, mentally cataloging each one. She also hid several hundred tokens; never underestimate the value of a bribe.

Footsteps. Ryker's heavy footsteps. A moment later, the door slid open to reveal the giant man with his metal arm. He raised an eyebrow. Wow.

Don't get used to it, Wren said. She straightened her shoulders and tilted her head up so that she looked down her nose at Ryker. A slight pinch to her eyebrows and she fell into the character of a haughty member of Albion society.

Why do I get the feeling that you've done this before?

Because you're not as stupid as you look?

Ryker scowled.

I assume you're here to tell me we've landed. As if she wouldn't have noticed the bump and the engines whirring down.

Yes.

Wren followed him to the main entrance where Kari and the rest waited. Kari's eyebrows rose in a mirror of Ryker's reaction while Atticus whistled. Of them all, Piper remained the most unmoved.

I'll be back before daybreak tomorrow, Wren said. Or I'll send a message. If you don't hear from me, assume the worst.

We're not going to leave without you, Kari said.

If you don't hear from me, I doubt very much that I'll still be alive.

That won't happen, Ryker said. Hell, you could remove an enforcer's balls without him noticing.

Oh, he'd notice, Wren said.

Anyway, Kari said, giving Ryker a hard glare. I'm going to go into the shopping district not far from here and see if I can dig up any information.

Wren made a point of looking Kari up and down. Are you sure that's a good idea?

Kari's eyes narrowed. We can't all afford fancy silks.

They'll notice, Wren said. Trust me.

You've been here before, Ryker said.

Wren turned her hard eyes on him. Many times. And never been caught despite all the bodies I left behind.

Ryker dropped his gaze.

Wren returned her attention to Kari. Remember how your face was plastered over every TV screen between here and Zenith? There are more clothes in my sleeping quarters. Wear the purple suit.

Thank you, Kari said.

Wren shrugged. No captain, no escape route.

I don't know, Kari said. Apparently Atticus can fly the ship.

Red crept across Atticus' cheeks.

Don't touch anything else in my room, Wren said. Some of those clothes have… points.

You don't have to tell me twice.

Good. Blend in. With the rebellion—

I know.

Wren nodded once and stepped out of the ship. Her sandals—decorated with gold lace but strapped tight so she could run—landed on grass greener and more vibrant than anything that grew on Zenith. The first time Wren had seen Albion she'd been overwhelmed by the colors and smells, then Guildmaster Silvan had smacked her in the back of the head with an iron bar. When Wren woke up—headache threatening to split her skull in two—Silvan had told her not to be distracted by pretty things or she'd end up dead.

So Wren didn't bother looking at the bright blue sky or admiring the white flowers that dotted the rolling hills of grass. They were just colors, no different to the grays and blacks of Zenith in a way. A mansion stood on top of the next hill, surrounded by a high fence with a single gate. Even from a distance, Wren could see two armored men standing in front. Nothing more than she expected.

She tilted her head and stomped forward, falling into a character outraged at having to walk even a few feet. By the time she reached the guards, they looked nervous.

Good afternoon, one said.

Good afternoon? Wren screeched. Are you blind?

No, esteemed one, I'm not.

Then did you not see me struggling up this ridiculous hill?

Uh—

Didn't it occur to you to send a vehicle? Wren yelled, her voice getting louder and higher pitched with every word. Do I look like some common street urchin who should walk everywhere?

No, your greatness.

Well? Are you going to make me stand outside for hours as well?

The first guard jumped to unlock the gate. The second had slightly more courage in him. I'm sorry, great one. Might I ask your business with the Jic Estate?

Wren narrowed her eyes, putting as much rage and affront as she could into the glare. I hardly think it's your business.

I'm sorry, the guard said, and he did seem sorry, quaking in his thick armor. But we aren't to let anyone through who's not on the list.

Wren threw her hands up. I swear. Mirriam would forget her own head if it wasn't screwed on. I told her a dozen times to make sure she cleared my visit.

You're here to see Mirriam? A look passed between the guards.

Unfortunately.

Wren studied their expressions out of the corner of her eye. These two didn't seem fond of Mirriam. Good. That could work to her advantage. It probably meant the rumors she'd read in the gossip columns of Albion's press were right; a spoiled girl with no sense of responsibility. Good. Easy to manipulate.

You know what she's like, Wren said, appealing to their underlying dislike. I swear, she probably left me off the list intentionally so that I'd be in trouble with Captain Jic.

We're sorry for the inconvenience, said the second guard—the one with a backbone. But we can't let you through.

Call her, Wren said. Get her to confirm. I didn't come all the way here just to walk away again.

The guard lifted his communicator, as he pressed the transmit button, Wren hit the scrambler in her pocket.

What? said a sour voice. It was a pretty good imitation of the news clips they'd seen of Mirriam, but Wren recognized Piper's voice underneath it.

Sorry to disturb you, my lady. We have a visitor here who says you—

That damn woman! Can't she take a hint?

The guard's cheeks reddened as he glanced up at Wren. So you were expecting her?

I don't want to see her. It's my father's stupid idea and I don't—

Captain Jic organized the meeting?

Yes, Piper said in a sulky tone.

Very good, my lady, the guard said. I'll send her through.

He killed the communication before Piper could respond and looked up at Wren. My apologies, your greatness.

Wren sniffed. Just see that it doesn't happen again. Although I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with that girl anyway.

The second guard stepped back, waving for the first to continue unlocking the gate. Wren waited until he'd opened it all the way before stalking through, head held high. Both of them reeked of fear. Wrongly placed though; insulting her or Mirriam wasn't the real danger—the real danger was the blade Wren had in her sleeve that she would have used to slit their throats and steal their identity cards if they hadn't let her through.

The breeze carried the smell of apples and flowers. Below that, the distant scent of people, hard to distinguish because they all bathed with the same floral soaps. So much easier to discern people on Zenith, where their natural odors were allowed to flourish and accumulate.

Wren stalked up the path to the front door without looking back, sure that the guards would be watching her; probably with relief that she hadn't reported them to their commander. The front door was made of a deep, dark wood with flowers and animals carved into it.

Before Wren pressed the ringer, a round woman in a simple servant's outfit opened the door, head lowered. My lady, to what do we owe the pleasure?

"I'm