Redeemer: A Military Space Opera Series (War Undying Book 2)

by N. D. Redding

  “Get out of here!” they screamed as they saw me approach, trashing, decapitating, and flinging their snake-like bodies around as if they weighed nothing. In all truth, I didn’t even feel any resistance from them. It was either that I hit a state of being high, or that I’d become so powerful that I treated them like toys. If I had to be honest, I’d say that it was somewhere in between.

  With a vicious smile plastered on my face, I pushed through their ranks like death incarnate. Power coursed through me uncontrollably as I sent a thick whip of nanites through three of the guards, piercing their armors and flesh as when a hot knife passed through butter. I lifted them off their feet and threw them against the ground and walls, finishing them off with ease.

  Blood spurted in all directions as I came into attack range of the guards attacking my companions.

  “Get down!” I yelled as I formed a double-fist-sized ball into the guards standing outside. The ball stopped in their midst and exploded into thousands of laser-sharp shards that etched themselves into the unsuspecting Mortians, killing most as the nanites kept eating into them. I was able to bend my nanites into any form I could think of, and I loved it.

  “Retreat!” I heard the first lines cry out and the warden screamed at his terrified troops to return, but they could only hear the whisper of horror in their hearts. The fear in their faces was so palpable I wanted to eat it up.

  The Mortians frantically ran away but I kept killing them as they did. Some of them I knew and the justice I delivered fed my ever-growing ego. It was hard to describe what a man felt when it seemed that no force in the universe could stop him. It was a false promise of immortality and invincibility that could crash any moment and drown the man.

  “I think that’s enough!” Fars yelled, warning me as I chased down the last Mortians from where we were huddled up. “Richard Stavos, there’s no honor in mindless killing!” he said even harsher than before.

  “There’s fun, though!” Arthur laughed. “Just look at him go! If he wasn’t human, I’d think he was an Aloi Zealot!”

  I barely registered either of the two. I was so drunk on power I wanted to tear down the entirety of Xan, but it was Mitto who actually pulled me out of my power trip.

  “I’m in the position to detonate the ceiling and get you out of there. We have seconds, boss. They’re raining all kinds of hell on top of me.”

  “Do it, Mitto,” I growled over my INAS. The ceiling started shuddering as Mitto used the Tanaree’s Gavran beam to cut a hole in the thick, protected ceiling of Xan’s vault.

  “Drones are ready to take you back up, boss. Come on!”

  As the opening in the ceiling cleared, we could see the slick dark crimson hull of the Tanaree hovering above us as two drones lowered themselves to get us. I loved it. I loved all of it. The destruction, the punishment, the revenge, and the mindless rage. Five long years had this place tried to take me down, but they hadn’t succeeded, and now I was the one who could take it down in turn.

  I looked to the warden and the Greth who were cowering behind a storage unit with horror written across their faces.

  “Nice try, Warden. Next time try sending in a whole army when you see me.”

  There was no response. The two of them were scared shitless by what they had just witnessed. Rinslo was too afraid to say a single word and I was glad that he didn’t. It might have pissed me off and then I would have killed him most likely.

  “Monster,” I read on his lips as he whispered.

  “Remember what we told you, Rinslo,” I said as I got on the drone. “Forever remember what you saw today, for if we ever meet, this is what awaits anyone who gets in my way of getting to you.”

  “Male, female, what does it matter?” Arthur said standing in front of Vogron’s tubular prison. “I can have sex with anything if I want to,” he said eyeing Vogron lustfully.

  The Jareet general stared at Arthur probably imagining all kinds of torture methods he would admit on the Templar, but he could neither act nor be heard behind his little shielded cylinder.

  “You can’t have sex with Vogron unless Vogron wants to,” I said in disbelief of the fact I had to even say those words. “We’re not barbarians, Arthur.”

  “Why did you kill so many then?” Fars interjected as he was cleaning his new toy: a two-handed Nas-axe he found in Xan’s vault. “The Mortians were no threat to you. You could have fought a thousand of them and they still wouldn’t be able to defeat you.”

  “Not every fight is about defeating your enemy. Some are about sending a message.”

  Fars studied me for a long moment and nodded understandingly.

  “That was a very loud message. You’re right, just like always, Richard Stavos.”

  There was something he couldn’t get himself to say. Something nagged him and I knew it better than anyone, but I also knew Fars would never question a victorious battle.

  “It sure was, my friend.”

  “This armor, it made you more powerful than I thought you’d be,” Fars said, still avoiding what truly bothered him.

  “It is a powerful tool for a Technomancer,” I said flatly. “What about it? It’s no different than the Nas-Ax you got your hands on.”

  “Yes, it has made you very powerful, but me too.”

  “What my Eres friend here is trying to ask is whether or not you have yourself under control since it looked like you were on an uncontrollable killing spree, Captain,” Arthur said bluntly.

  Fars, though ready to protest, stopped himself and looked at me for an answer. I assured both of them that everything was fine and that I had myself under control. I ascribed my violent outburst to the excitement of being reunited with my Technomancer gear, but I think that neither of them fully believed that story. Nevertheless, they didn’t ask any more questions, so we left it at that. Not even I knew exactly what had happened to me during that brief moment when rage took over, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t love it.

  Mitto informed me that the ship had suffered some damage from the barrage of the Greth fleet. Turned out that I asked a little too much from the Tanaree. No other frigate in the galaxy could have taken that beating, but the stress on the shields and hull overloaded the systems and burned through our energy supply. Our ship would need a fresh batch of detrium very soon or we would be stranded in open space.

  “Lower the shields on Vogron,” I ordered, and Fars tensed as I said those words.

  “Do you want to turn off the sound barrier if you want to talk to Vogron?”

  “No,” I replied while shaking my head. “He’s no more dangerous to me than a Jareet newborn.” I didn’t want the Jareet to think I was in any way afraid of him, because I wasn’t. The Fyre Armor had made sure that no one on the ship could take me out without a fight that would cost them their lives.

  Vogron sat on the floor cross-legged the same as he was before the shields were removed. He looked up to me with the same steel-eyed look as if he was currently heading an army and not sitting aboard my ship as a prisoner.

  “Vogron, I need detrium and you need to tell me where I can find it,” I said getting straight to the point. He looked at me curiously and let out a low grunt, then snickered like I was a peasant requesting the king to bathe me.

  “Why would you believe anything I’d say?”

  “Are we not on the same side here, Vogron? We both want the Aloi out of this sector. The sooner you help me, the sooner I can get to Federation space and stop the Aloi from integrating the Partak Sector and Jareet Prime with it.”

  “You think you’re so smart, Stavos. You think you’re in complete control, don’t you?” This pissed me off. He underestimated my abilities before, but since everything I had accomplished, I thought he would recognize at least some of it. I couldn’t tell if it was because of newfound confidence in my armor or just because I was tired of him, but his words struck a nerve I thought I had under control.

  “I am in control, Vogron. I could tear you into pieces without getting u
p from this chair and you know it. I’m sick of playing power games with you. Tell me where we can find processed detrium or I’ll stick you in that tube for the rest of your days.”

  Even Arthur was surprised by the maliciousness of my words.

  “I had power for so long that I don’t even crave it anymore, Stavos. I’m just used to having it. It’s part of me. I can smell a power-hungry creature from a mile away and you Technomancer reek of it.”

  “What is your point?”

  “Do you really want to save the Federation, Stavos? Is that truly your motive? Was there any need to return to Xan to get your gear, wasting resources, fuel, risking the lives of these miserable creatures who tail after you? Are there no more armors like that in the Federation anymore?”

  He stopped for several seconds and I processed all he had just said. It didn’t make much sense, but I’d indulge him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bah, you preach some all-encompassing righteousness, a wish to save trillions of lives, but do you know what kind of individual goes after the highest of principles? Those who hide the lowest of motives, trying to convince others and themselves they’re doing the work of some gods. That is you, Technomancer. Do you want my help? Say it and I’ll point you to the next detrium mine right now. Say you don’t give a shit about all of us, say that you just want to bask in power.”

  I stared at him for several heartbeats while feeling both Fars’ and Arthurs’ eyes on my back. I hated him for those words because they brought some things into the light that I wanted buried. After Winters betrayed me, and after spending the years in Xan, my worldview had narrowed. I still wanted to do the right thing; I was still on a mission to do the right thing, but somewhere deep within me, I knew I wasn’t doing it all because it was the right thing.

  I shunned those thoughts away. Vogron was very convincing, as that was part of his job I told myself. I knew the allure of power better than most Technomancers and I never fell into the trap of self-grandeur that many of my brethren-by-class had before me.

  “You’re wrong, Vogron. You had your chance. Mitto put the shield back up and tighten it by a quarter. No more sitting on the floor Vogron, no more mercy. If you don’t want to tell me where I can find the detrium, I will find the signature of the next Jareet ship and take it by force. I will jump from one ship to another, killing your brothers and sisters, plundering and destroying their ships until I get to the Federation if that’s what it takes. And you will witness all of it from inside your little prison.”

  There was silence on the bridge again as the shields and sound barrier enveloped Vogron, who couldn’t respond to my threats even if he wanted to. I could feel my nanites accelerate through my bloodstream readying themselves for an attack that wasn’t coming. I had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself.

  “Mitto, get us to Jareet space and locate the first signature.” I turned to Vogron as I said the next thing. “We’re going hunting.”

  12

  The cruiser-class ship was designated the Brilliant Oyster, and it carried some twenty thousand souls aboard its luxurious decks. It was a civilian ship Mitto picked up four days ago and it was supposed to carry enough detrium for us to jump at least ten systems. It moved through a well-trafficked part of the Partak Sector, so it traveled with minimum security.

  Only three Seitan-class Greth frigates were escorting it. We were pretty familiar with them by now, as we had killed a dozen in the last two years. The Brilliant Oyster wasn’t going to have a good day. Not at all.

  “Dropping out of light speed in T-minus 10, 9, 8…” Mitto said as we braced for the inevitable shock of transitioning to sub-light. The plan was to drop in as close as possible.

  Maximum shock, minimum casualties. We had learned that people who get boarded by pirate ships, which we irrefutably now were, tended to panic and often cause more damage to themselves and the wares we’ve been after than we would have done in the first place. That’s why we went in clean and quick.

  “Give me a status update,” I said as I stared at the projected screen.

  “Visual range, three Seitan-class Greth frigates in escort, just as I calculated,” Mitto said proudly. “Release one drone and send it after the frigates. Prepare for boarding.”

  “The Brilliant Oyster is hailing us. Standard procedure?”

  “Yes.”

  This meant we weren’t going to answer any calls or have any discussions. In the last two years, whenever we accepted a captain’s plea for diplomacy, it just gave them more time to call in reinforcements or set up traps along with the ship. I avoided killing any non-military personnel whenever I could, but those things never went without unnecessary deaths no matter how you approached them. We wanted something from them, and we were ready to take it by force. That usually meant that everything ended with blood being lost.

  “Frigates incoming in a loose triangle formation.”

  “Engage with drones.”

  The drones were already en route to the frigates. I had learned to use the drones as a clean weapon that was easy on our ever-dwindling ammo supplies. The strong interaction material they were made of could easily breach hulls of ships without the proper shielding technology, and these three Greth frigates were far from equipped to deal with the Tanaree.

  One of the drones burst into the bow of the first frigate. It tore open the hull and exploded outward through the ship’s engine with lightning speed. The Greth frigate was decimated without having fired a single shot, and its crew, except for a few lucky ones who jumped into rescue capsules, was dead.

  “Arm the mass-driver batteries.”

  “Captain, that’s a waste of ammo. According to my calculations, if we used the drone we would have a higher chance of—”

  “Arm the mass-driver batteries. I want this mission to look like we actually fought.”

  Whenever possible I would switch up the fighting patterns we used in these situations. Sometimes I’d use the mass drivers, sometimes the drones, sometimes missiles, sometimes the high-pulse plasma emitters. I didn’t want them to know what our preferred weapon of choice was, nor our strategy, fuel, or ammo status. When we were short on ammo, I’d take a risk and go into a fight without using drones, which left the enemy who would later scout the battlefield thinking we’re stacked on shells. When I was full on ammo, I’d use the drones. And sometimes, like now, I’d let them have a taste of several of our weapons just to fuck with the forensics team.

  “Bring us in, Mitto.”

  Mitto steered the ship toward the cruiser showering the other two frigates in mass-driver projectiles along the way. Several of the Greth’s missiles just ricocheted off our hull and exploded miles away from the Tanaree. He got us into position above the cruiser and when we were ready to drop in, I turned to my team, expecting them to be ready.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a Typhoon quad-ring destroyer cannon. I got it from the last mission,” Fars said with the turret-sized weapon on his shoulder.

  “Do you expect to encounter a mech aboard the cruiser? No, wait, don’t answer that,” I hurried to reply for him. “You’ll just tear a hole in the hull with that thing. Take something smaller. Quick and clean, remember?”

  Fars let the giant gun drop to the floor with a loud clunk and put his hands on his hips in protest.

  “What’s the point of all these weapons if we never get to use them?”

  “Just—just take your ax or something. This really isn’t the place to go all out. It’s just a civilian cruiser.”

  Fars protested with that deathly glare of his for several long seconds, but then he finally let out a deep sigh before he walked over to the wall and grabbed a pair of Nas-axes.

  “Arthur, Vogron, ready?” Vogron was armed to the teeth with guns, swords, daggers, plasma grenades, void-sphere bombs, cranium-seeker drones, and whatever else could fit on his back, shoulders, belt, and numerous straps.

  Vogron brought what he had been using for
the last year or so: a whip made of Olen leather. Nothing special about it, no additional functions, nothing, just a long, black whip that made most of our enemies piss themselves upon sight. It did help that the substance it was made of was very, very hard and could even tear into steel if you hit it hard enough.

  Mitto cut a nice hole in the cruiser’s hull with the Gavran beam. The hole was just large enough for us to go through with ease and close enough to the bridge of the Brilliant Oyster so we could take control of it without having to battle it out deck by deck. I put on my helmet and pulled up my visor to protect myself against the short drop through the vacuum. The four of us landed through the hole into the interior of the cruiser, scattering whoever had been present.

  There was no resistance when we landed. It was a long corridor that ended in a blast door connecting to the main bridge of the cruiser. I sent out a wave of nanites that entered the ventilation systems to give me a crude picture of our surroundings. Sadly, the nanites didn’t find an opening for the bridge, which was sealed shut, so I didn’t know what to expect behind the blast doors.

  “We could have used a nice Typhoon quad-ring destroyer cannon now, huh? What do you say about that, Stavos?” Fars said self-righteously.

  I ignored the remark and shot four heavily reinforced nanite chains into the blast door and hooked them in different parts.

  “Why use fire when we can use muscle.”

  The three of them each took one of the chains and pulled with all their strength. Between an Aloi Templar, an Eres warrior, and a Jareet general, all a simple blast door like this could do was pray.

  It took them three pulls to get several tons of reinforced pekta-steel off its hinges and drop it on the floor with a loud thud. I immediately turned on my Blade Shield as a storm of bullets flew at us. I spread the shield to the width and height of the corridor so not a single projectile managed to come close to my team.