Chain of Starlight: Starlight Saga, #1

By Lon E. Varnadore

She once called them family. When they turn against her, is there any corner of space dark enough to hide from their vengeance?Jonica Desoll is sick of the bloodshed. With her planet-hopping pirate companions growing increasingly violent, the determined woman gambles her life and listens to the strange voice in her head urging her to flee. But her bid for freedom comes with no guarantee of success when she steals her captain's favorite ship…Pursued across the galaxy by her former crew, Jonica takes a risky job to earn money for the resources she needs to get away for good. But even teamed up with the psychic cat-shaped creature who first encouraged her to run, dodging the host of bounty hunters, revenge-seekers, and alien agents after them may make survival a near-impossible mission.Can Jonica zero in on her target before she's killed by the hunt?Chain of Starlight is the rollicking first book in the Starlight science fiction series. If you like tenacious heroines, desperate bets, and page-turning intrigue, then you'll love Lon E. Varnadore's extraterrestrial adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lon E. Varnadore
• Release date: Nov 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201355531

Lon E. Varnadore

is a writer of many facets of the science fiction and fantasy genres. Sci-fi noir like Mostly Human, raypunk stories of the Known World Series, to space operas like Junker Blues and Starlight Saga.

Book preview

1

Here There be Monster

T hey can’t be of use, Captain Zas said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

A slash of vermillion light burned through the void between Runner and the crippled Right Attitude. Jonica bit back a sharp rebuke of Zas while he laughed. His finger slipped off the button that fired the attack. She turned her head back to the display, watching the successive explosions caused by the destructive beam striking the wounded Right Attitude’s reactor core.

I swore I’d protect them! They’d be safe! Jonica shouted. To their faces.

And? Zas asked, a smirk on his dark face. Shadow Marauders lie.

Balling up her fists, she lowered them to the console, suppressing a round of oaths. Or worse, to go for her own thrower, attacking Captain Zas. I have to watch this, she thought, knowing that, with that smirk, Zas dared her to attack. It was part of his cruelty. She shuddered inwardly, not wanting to give anyone in the cockpit the notion she was shaken by what she’d witnessed. 

She bit her inner cheek to stop an outburst when Zas asked, What did you think of that?

Leaning back in his pilot chair, still chuckling while folding his hands over the slight bulk of his stomach, an easy smile of gleaming white stretched in his mahogany-dark face. Sharp, predatory eyes raked across the three other pirates in the cockpit of the Ransom Runner. No one answered until Zas’ eyes set upon Jonica.

Say something, she said to herself. That wasn’t necessary, Zas… It wasn’t necessary, she said in a sharp tone. Jonica gripped her console, keeping her hands from her weapon. Calm down. He’ll think you’re hysterical if you shout. Flicking her head away from him, her shoulder-length, pale, milk-colored hair rippled over a shoulder. She didn’t dare meet his eyes. Already on the edge of insubordination, she stopped talking.

The laughter and mirth disappeared from his voice when he asked, Oh? Why is that?

We crippled them. Took the cargo. Left the crew locked in their cabins, Jonica said, not looking at him. If she did, she’d lose what little self-control she held onto. Without it, she’d attack—tantamount to suicide. She turned her gaze to Krag and Rister instead. Neither of them met her eyes while she looked at them for support. They simply stared at the deck. Krag was fidgeting with one of his little silver fetishes while Rister shifted from one leg to the other, swaying side to side.

And? Zas asked, his thick body leaning forward. His mouth pursed in a line as he studied her, waiting for a response. He’d pulled his oddly curved blade, stroking the wire-wrapped hilt with his thumb.

Jonica swallowed hard. Sod it! She turned in her chair to pin him with a look. "You told them we would let them live. I told them they’d…"

Zas’ face remained neutral, then shook as she trailed off. Slag, Jonica thought, I went too far. He’s—

I lied. Zas laughed, louder and louder. "It’s what we do. Settling himself, wiping a small tear from his eye, he gave a small shrug. We’re pirates, Jonni. We lie, we cheat, we steal— we kill." He purposely looked into her eyes to punctuate the last words.

The frigid tone of his voice sent a shiver down Jonica’s spine. The way he gave a small shrug of his shoulders when he said it rankled her in her core. Especially using his pet name for her in front of the crew. Asshole. She tried to bury it and couldn’t. It wasn’t possible anymore. "You gave them your word, Zas. I gave them my word." She shouted and stood up, hand going to her thrower in its holster.

He said nothing, simply turning back to his console, ignoring her. He watched the last of the Attitude flare into tiny bits of metal and detritus; the smile creeping across his face disgusted Jonica. Still watching the ruins of Right Attitudebeing flung about, a smile grew wider on his rich, mahogany face.

"You know, I am a liar, he said, still not looking back at her. Set a course home, he ordered. When he issued the order, his head snapped back to look at Jonica. The predatory grey eyes stared at her, daring her to do something. Problem with my order, XO?"

 No sir, Jonica said to the deck, sitting down and turning to prep the return route without thinking. Her hands trembled. Plotting a return course home, she said in a whisper. The Ransom Runner was a small enough spacecraft that two were redundant to pilot. Zas could have programmed the course back with micro-jumps and hard burns to get back to Poveglia on his own.

Jonica knew what he was doing: showing he’d won their brief exchange and flexing his power and authority over not just her, but Krag and Rister as well, both of whom would tell of what happened to the rest of the crew on the four-hour trip back to Proxima Centauri, five AUs from their current position.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched and then heard Zas bark at Krag, Don’cha gotta do da break down, Krag?

Krag’s face blanched under his dreads. He shot out of the cockpit to do the actual work of breaking down the haul from the Right Attitude into raw materials, consumables, and miscellaneous trinkets and treasures.

Rister stopped rocking, only staring straight ahead. His skin was already as pale as Jonica’s hair. The lithe, slender Ionian trembled for a second. Wan I go and—

You stay, Stumpy.

You didn’t use to be this way, Jonica thought. You used to have some kind of honor. Before that, Peeper of the Bloody Bitch’s Empress ship. You used to have a code, she said in a hoarse whisper.

Zas let out a barking laugh. "And, if you remember, we almost got killed because we let that captain and his crew live."

Jonica closed her eyes, not wanting to remember that trap.

Zas continued. "They had the slagging Confedrats hidden, waiting for us to leave the ship and crew alive. Had we killed them, they wouldn’t have signaled the slaggin’ troops in the hidden cargo hold. We’d be dead. Right, Stumpy?"

For a heartbeat, Jonica replayed the trap sprung on them. The Confedrats spilling from crew quarters and two of their ships jumping into positions to fire on the Xi Targan, the ship Jonica was commanding while Zas led the raid on the disabled ship. They’d lost the Good Richard, and half the raid crew of Good Richard died in the pitched battle; the other half languished in a Confederation prison, waiting for execution.

Well? Zas asked.

Rister swallowed hard. Da was three month ago, Zas-man, Rister started. I—

Zas smirked at Rister while standing faster than Jonica thought possible. "The one you said wasn’t big enough to hide anything."

Rister let out a small cry. Rubbing at the stub of his left pinky finger, he said, Captain. I-I-I been wrong. I paid da butcher—

Zas took a step forward. Rister stepped back, smacking into the bulkhead of the rear of the cockpit. Ignoring his frightened man, he reached over and touched Jonica’s hand as she finished programing the navigation brain for home. "A chance for glory and adventure, little one. That’s why we can’t be lax, he’d said in a voice smoother than Europan ice. To live, others… must die."

She looked at him, a little startled that he had touched her in front of Rister. Frightened or not, they’d whisper about that as well. Looking up, she saw that he was giving her his best and most sincere smile. For a moment, she saw the man who’d stolen her already wounded heart, filling her head with tales of adventure and treasure.

Let’s head home, Jonica, he said, grinning sweetly and patting her hand again. Then, the glint in his eyes held a maniacal glint, watching the last bits of the Right Attitude float away into the void. It’s much more fun to lie and kill, eh?

As he sat down smirking, she wanted to say something; to ask what had happened after the attack by the Bloody Bitch’s Peeper, but it wasn’t the time. Rister was still there, even though he looked ready to rabbit. Then she looked to the screen to where the Right Attitude had been. No, not the time at all. Get back home, figure out your next plan. There is nothing you can do out here.

She took a deep breath, nodded, and said, Aye, Captain. She programmed the last jump point and started the sequence.

2

Home?

Coming home to Poveglia through the last micro-jump was a relief. The jump left Jonica—and the rest of the crew of the  Runner —disconnected from reality for a moment. The pilot and co-pilot chair injected a stimulant needed to clear out Jonica and Zas’ fog a little faster. The rest of the crew had injectors at hand or in their cabins that they could use to clear the brain fog one gets from shifting through a jump wormhole. It was a byproduct of the gravity-distorting field on humans going through the jumps, though Jonica had heard other races had something that was worse. And there were whispers that those in the  Bloody Empress’  employ didn’t have these drugs and that her crew didn’t need them. Jonica doubted it.

With the light of Proxima Centauri, three quarters of an AU away, the rogue planetoid of Poveglia was as welcome a sight as anything. Jonica watched as Zas flicked on the device that made the ship run as close to stealth as possible to get past the quarantine buoys surrounding the large planetoid. Each looming buoy equipped with a maser beam exciter integrated into the satellite. Small but powerful microwave generators that put the microwave into the maser beam that could burn through any ship hull or shield that tried to cross the buoys without permission. Leftovers from the Confedrats when they left the planetoid, not wanting anyone to return to Poveglia. At least that’s how Zas explained it to the crew.

Why do these masers exist? What could be on the planetoid? She stopped herself. That’s a dangerous line of thinking, she said to herself. Focus on what you need to do to survive.

Poveglia had been many things in its relatively long life after discovery some two hundred years ago. The last of its designations was as an insane asylum and quarantine destination for those suffering different bouts of madness, mostly those suffering from various Peeper diseases.

Her right hand strayed to the device above her right ear. It was an integrated comm-link and psychic dampener. The dampener created what all of Zas’ crew called a Peeper Shield. It was a modified version of what Zas had found in the archives of the Confederacy before he’d escaped with his first stolen ship, the Ransom Runner, which he used as a glorified tax collector for the Confedrats. He picked vigil for a simple reason; no one wanted to come to investigate such a cursed place. All the inmates left behind, abandoned and forgotten for twenty years. And they made great watchdogs, Zas always said.

Part of Jonica wondered if the planetoid caused the spreading madness itself. She wasn’t sure if she was right or wrong, since there was always the feeling of somebody—something—watching her at all times. Even the Zanies that Zas used as guard dogs sometimes leered and crept too close for the pirates’ comfort, all sharing the single, isolated continent of Poveglia.

She banished the thought and focused on her job to land Runner.

After passing the quarantine buoys’ scanner range, Zas flipped the switch to turn off the stealth drive, then entered a series of commands to turn on the small landing beacon. Runner picked up the beacon Zas himself had had placed on Poveglia. For security, he always said.

Bring us in for a landing, Joni, Zas said.

With a nod, she took the controls to land Runner. Zas reached over from his console to the shared console between him and Jonica. He yanked out the nav-brain of the ship the moment the island came into view.

There was a harsh brrzzzkk as he did so, and the computers blared a warning. Jonica didn’t bat an eye while assuming full control. Keying in commands to cut short the alarm klaxons. She gave him a sidelong glance.

Not a word. You know why, Zas said, giving her the smile that got him out of more quarrels in bars than anything else.

You don’t even trust me? Jonica asked with a half-smile. She wasn’t shocked, as this was Zas’ routine. It was part of their landing banter for months. He’d become less cold as they flew closer to Poveglia, and it felt like it would be a way to get back to where they were before the Right Attitude.

At least I let you pilot down.

Yeah, the easiest—

And let you program jumps, Zas said, as if she hadn’t been talking. All while coming within a micron of insubordination, Zas continued, looking at her with a smirk that didn’t touch his eyes, but still warmer than the frigid tone and weight earlier. You’re lucky.

Why?

You’re easy on the eye, and I couldn’t stand to see you thrown to the Sisters.

Steeling herself as best she could, she said, One day, they’ll turn on you.Jonica felt her blood run cold at the mention of The Sisters. She couldn’t help but shiver. She heard Zas laugh. 

Loyal as hounds, he said, reaching over and touching Jonica’s forearm gauntlet as she held the steering yoke, straining to keep the ship level from the buffeting forces of the very air as they descended through the atmosphere. Friction caused the hull’s heat shield to glow a cherry red, even the cockpit, as protected as it was, warmed up a degree.

I’m not one, Jonica said, recoiling from the touch with no one else there to witness it.

Zas scowled. I’m aware. He settled back. "Otherwise, you’d have come back to my bed. Maybe I should listen to Sister Fesh and ‘cut the changfú—prostitute—loose’."

Jonica swallowed hard. Too valuable, she said, not wanting to give voice to more of her thoughts. She gripped the yoke harder, feeling the popping of her knuckles to keep herself from reacting to the slanderous nickname.

Maybe, Zas said. Maybe not. 

Coming out of the atmo burn, the massive island of Poveglia came into view. The large, irregular, kidney shape of dark gray approached. Patches of white and black plants were been cultivated to use the infra-red from the red dwarf Proxima instead of the red-shifted light. The plants grew wild around the island. Once-tended shapes for therapy grew wild and spread haphazardly around the island in masses of black and white shrubs. The island itself was stark against the turquoise of the water of the planetoid. Wisps of clouds drifted by here and there, yet most of the surroundings were clear. A large, irregular building cobbled together over the two centuries of occupancy. Sitting atop the upper section of the island, the lower part of the kidney shape holding the bone yard. That was a nickname someone’d given the place, and even Zas didn’t know, nor cared to remember, who it was.

To those who didn’t know better, the ships in the bone yard of the island looked rusted, decrepit, and ready to fall apart with a stiff breeze. It was all part of the trick to make those who somehow got past the Confedrat buoys into thinking that the island was deserted. A large black stone arch spanned the very bottom of the island, acting as a kind of entryway for the boneyard.

Jonica lined up Runner to fly under the massive arch of the island. If she, or anyone, flew over the arch, the defenses of the island would trip, and the pilot would have a horrible day.

Zas gave her a hard stare as he pocketed the nav-brain. "You left my bed. So, yes, I don’t trust you."

Of course, he’d said the same when she’d first warmed his bed. He always removed the nav-brains from all the ships he had once they were close to landing on Poveglia. Only he and the head of the groundlings, Degan, could touch them. When she set Runner down, the groundlings started to emerge from their barracks, swarming like ants. The mechanics that Jonica could see were already loping towards the ship. Their near-human forms, taller and lankier, marked their birthplace as Mars if they were from Sol or Parsec if from the Centauri system. At least here, they were people and not some second-class citizen in the Confederacy or the Empire. One of the good things about being part of Zas’ crew: Everyone was equal.

Zas patted the nav-brain in his coat. It was pointless to try and fly a spaceship without a nav-brain into space. Plus, without the nav-brain it was suicidal to try. It was the reason Zas did it. The small, two-foot square computer brains, stored in a place that no sane person would ever try to reach, except Zas: deep in the center of the Zanies’ territory of Poveglia. The Vault.

Standing up and working out the kinks in her back, she caught sight of the bristling weapons hidden behind the large steel-and-stone archway that was the entrance to the yard. In the distance, she spied the smaller archway that led to the onetime asylum. She clutched her left forearm with her right hand, unable to stop herself from the nervous gesture when seeing the entrance to her home. Someone long ago had scrawled along the plas-steel archway long ago: Hic erit monstra. Here there be monsters. Zas enjoyed it, so he made sure the groundlings repainted it from time to time. 

Make sure you’ve got on your dampeners on, Zas reminded as he left the cockpit, his hand already tapping his temple to turn on his psychic dampener portion of the device. All the crew had one installed and used—had to use—while staying on Poveglia.

Cargo? She asked as her own hand went to above her right ear. The comm-link had a second button. Finding it by feel, she pushed to activate the device. The slight buzz in her skull caused a momentary full body shiver, which told her it was working. It was a necessary evil when their compound had Zanies crawling around, able to read your mind and pluck out your deepest fears to use against you. The dampener helped keep them at bay and out of her mind. Well, it would keep any Peeper at bay, Jonica knew. It was the main reason Zas liked to use them. The one time he didn’t use it, it almost killed him.

Groundlings’ll cart it, Zas said, throwing a thumb back at the ten near-humans moving towards the belly of the Runner with hover-lifts.

Suppose. Jonica shrugged, looking back at the cockpit she’d left. They left as Degan lumbered past them, leading a handful of groundlings into the cargo bay. Soon, the ship was swarming with the lanky near-humans as the pair passed without a word. They