by Tao Wong
Rebel Star
Book 8 of the System Apocalypse
By
Tao Wong
License Notes
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Rebel Star
Copyright © 2019 Tao Wong. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2019 Sarah Anderson Cover Designer
A Tao Wong Book
Published by Tao Wong
69 Teslin Rd
Whitehorse, YT
Y1A 3M5
Canada
www.mylifemytao.com
ISBN: 9781989458204
Contents
What Happened Before
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Glossary
Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree
John’s Erethran Honor Guard Skills
Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree
John’s Paladin of Erethra Skills
Other Class Skills
Spells
Equipment
What Happened Before
Having left Earth, John Lee and his companions journey to Irvina, capital of the Galactic Council, in search of answers about the new Galactic Society that Earth had been forcibly recruited into. Galactic Society is both more peaceful and more dangerous than John could have ever imagined. Dungeons’ entrances are carefully regulated, and those without the Credits or prestige to join the higher levels of society are forced to sell themselves to serfdom for a chance at a decent life.
Angered by the inequality and seeing an opportunity for Earth, John arranges to transport the dispossessed to Earth, where humans have more monsters and monster loot than they know what to do with. However, his actions challenge the social order of the Galactic Council and invoke a rapid and violent response.
John and his friends survive the attacks and assassination attempts, but his actions have consequences. Humanity’s leaders are targeted on Earth, and in turn, John vows to take the battle directly to those who hired the assassins. Leaving Irvina and the diplomatic corp behind, John, Mikito, and Harry journey to the dark side of Galactic Society.
Chapter 1
I can already taste the chocolate—the bitterness, the velvet smoothness—on my tongue as I stare at the golden foil. The luxurious taste as it melts in your mouth and slides down your throat, that hit of sugar and cocoa that perks you up. Carefully, I unwrap the piece of heaven, slide the piece into my mouth, and let my eyes half-close. I revel in the taste, finding peace. Happiness. Decadence.
“Are you listening, John?” Harry’s voice cuts in, forcing me to open my eyes to look at the British journalist.
Harry’s dressed in the latest Galactic fashion, which reminds me of the worse of seventies fashion crossed with a gothic ensemble—garish colors on too-tight clothes held down by big belt buckles that crisscross the body. It’s a bad clash with his umber skin, but then again, I’m dressed in Adventurer chic. Black armored bodysuit with multi-pocketed vest, pistol and knife strapped to me.
“No.” The words come slow, my attention returning to my friends. First, though, I let my gaze sweep over the spartan furnishing of the spaceship we’re in. The mess hall is spartan, all in bronze, brown, and used, the smell of hours old cooking mixing with the taste of the chocolate in my mouth. Memories of a better time, an easier time, threatening to return. “Not really.”
Harry harrumphs while Ali holds up a hand, the two-foot-tall Spirit floating upside down as he speaks. “What boy-o means is that you’re blathering. Just the conclusion.”
“I’d like details,” Mikito speaks up.
“See? Some people understand the trouble I go through to get this information,” Harry says.
“No. I just want the details.”
Harry huffs at the congenial ribbing. “Obviously we have System confirmation that the target’s still paying into the quest pool for Adventurers targeting Earth leaders. Of course, as we know, that’s not enough confirmation these days, since they’ve started messing with the System data pools. But Slimwese isn’t the kind to keep quiet about what he’s doing. I have four different independent confirmations of him ranting and boasting of his involvement. On top of that, I checked financing on the fund and backtracked it to two of his companies.”
“Good enough.” Mikito’s black eyes harden, and for a moment, the naked blade that my little friend has become shows itself. Then Mikito leans back and that sense of danger disappears.
“What is it?” I say, interrupting Harry before he can get into the next part. The part where we plan how to kill a man. Alien. Sentient. Everyone else looks at me, but I can’t help but ask. “What number? Seven, eight? Since we started this?”
“Nine or eleven,” Harry says. “Depending on how you count the Filt incident.”
“Ah. Right. Filt…” I say. That had not been our proudest moment. Filt was the reason we’d started double-checking everything we got from the System. Our enemies had used the System to lie to us, to send us against an enemy of theirs. The only good thing was that the son of a bitch was not much better than the ones we meant to kill. He and his friend. And so many uncounted individuals who just were doing their jobs, who got in the way.
“And the six orgs,” Ali adds. “However you want to count that.”
I grunted. Taking out a corporation was both easier and harder than dealing with an individual. Sometimes it was just a person or two you had to dissuade. Often, it was a board and shareholders who needed convincing—and that convincing was a matter of stealing, destroying, and otherwise taking away their resources and operations. Best part is when you throw the Credits you steal right back into a fund for others to keep doing the same.
“Two years and a bit, a whole bunch of dead sentients, and what have we really accomplished?” I can’t help but let the weariness, the emotional exhaustion creep into my voice. Two years of violence against others. Running, hiding, killing. Bringing hell back to those who attacked us first. And for what?
“The bounty fund targeting Earth personnel is down to thirty percent of its original size,” Harry says. “There were only three assassination attempts last month.”
“One of which succeeded,” I say.
The Grandmaster in Hong Kong had fallen i
n that attack. There might be fewer attacks, but the fellows taking the jobs are more skilled. Even with all the defenses, the training and Levels, being on the defensive is killing us. Slowly but surely.
“Historically, that’s pretty good,” Ali says. “You should see the numbers in Truinnar and Movana empires. Never mind the Piskies and the Gruthlaks.”
“John?” When she knows she has my attention, Mikito continues. “Are we calling this off?”
“No.” I shake my head. Whatever I might think, wherever my conscience might fall… Slimwese is a bad man. And we’ve come this far. Might as well finish it. Somehow though, I can’t help but remember an old friend. One who died just before we entered the Galactic arena. Someone who, in her own way, was a much better killer than I could ever be. “Just… no. Go on, Harry.”
And he does. He goes into the details of Slimwese’s Status, of his security and his routines. Of what we can expect. And then, in the midst of the planning, I forget my reticence for a while. I forget the exhaustion and doubts while I plan how to kill a man.
***
The view from the cockpit of the ship—Nothing’s Heartbreak—is eye-wateringly beautiful. Without an atmosphere to block the starshine, the Milky Way sprays its glory across our viewport. For a moment, I bask in the wonder of it all, a dream come true a thousand times over. Then the rumbly voice from the pilot’s seat catches my attention, dragging me back to the present.
“We doing this?” Dornalor says.
The man is huge, about nine feet tall, with the entire ship shaped to suit his size. The ghatotkaca is entirely hairless, with a head shaped like a pot and a weird, dandelion-yellow skin. Lounging in his chair, the man acts like the lord of his ship—which he is. As I regard him, Ali pops up his information again for me.
Dornalor Xyrralei, Journeyman Trader (Merchant Journeyman Captain Level 41) (A)
HP: 290/290
MP: 4890/4890
Conditions: Shipboard Awareness, Hyperspace Fold, In His Place, Mana Drip
Nearly everything on Dornalor’s Status is correct, except for the fact that he’s not a Merchant Captain but a Pirate Captain. Well, that and the various other Titles he’s hiding. Dornalor’s got a few Skills that help keep the ship and us hidden. It’s why we hired the man—after saving him from an unfortunate situation involving cockatrices, loan sharks, and a rotating saw.
It only takes a moment to call up the information on his Skill.
False Impressions (Level 4)
An Advanced Skill of the Pirate Captain, False Impression creates a false recording or article of knowledge in the System that will obfuscate events around the Captain. This new recording or impression will now be the default answer. This is a rare Skill that has both passive and active effects.
Passive Effect: A false recording of events as designated by the user will be created. This passive effect will obscure (4) locations and/or pieces of information at all times, with false information provided in their place. Currently selected locations include: cockpit, dining room, storage, and Captain’s status.
Active Effect: When False Impressions is in effect, a false recording will be created. User may designate higher levels of realism for the recording or higher cost to breach the recording.
Passive Cost: Permanently reduce Mana Regeneration by twenty
Active Cost: 250 Mana + 200 Mana per minute
“Yes,” I say and gesture. The information we’ve got gets sent over, filling in dashboards.
Dornalor’s eyes go blank for a few seconds as he and his AI process the information. The navigation map flickers then updates, a new course plotted.
“Restricted zone, planet-side raid. Additional twenty-five thousand Credits.” Dornalor’s voice is low and husky, business-like. There’s a reason why we never have him on the actual strategy missions. Dornalor’s a pure mercenary, but one who has a code. Which was part of the reason he was in trouble before.
“Ali?” I say.
“Transferred.”
“Good. We’ll be coming in hot and we’ll need you all in the dining room,” Dornalor says. “You have twenty minutes. I’ll stay longer by five for another 125,000 Credits. No more.”
“Got it,” I say.
Twenty minutes should be enough. More than enough.
***
We drop through the atmosphere undetected. The Pirate Captain’s Skills combined with the numerous stealth abilities of the ship allow us to cut through the sensor net around the pleasure planet Rexha like a ghost. It helps that we time our entry with the arrival of another dozen VVIPs, all of whom have their usual entourage of security ships and assistants that have to be cleared. In the brief period when the security team for Rexha are overwhelmed, we slide into the atmosphere and land.
Pleasure planets are a weird Galactic creation. The easiest way to describe Rexha is like taking Vegas, spreading it across the entire damn planet, and adding guided safaris. Due to the System, one of the major points of interest—beyond the usual plethora of kinky pleasures—are guided hunting scenarios. Like big game hunters in Africa, the pleasure-seekers get brought across multiple acres of dungeon land, all with the goal of killing weird, unique, and high-Leveled monsters. In some cases, the goal is more specific—a Title, a Quest, a Level or Class unlock. Pleasure planets cater to all wants and tastes.
Of course, the numerous guides and bodyguards present means that the amount of actual danger the tourist faces is low. But injuries still happen—mostly due to the overwhelming pride and stubbornness of the tourists.
Our current target is on one of those safaris. In a society where violence is often the last and most powerful resource, where Levels are most easily gained from death and mayhem, it’s not a big surprise that those who can take what they want stand at the top. Non-Combatants might become powerful via indirect means, but that power can be bypassed by someone dedicated and violent enough. It was true on Earth too, pre-System, though the fact that we were all equally squishy meant that there was only so much damage a single person could do. Not like in the System.
All of which leads to this need for those at the highest strata of society to be able to prove themselves as fighters. Even those who aren’t combatants feel the need to flex, to show that they can handle themselves in a combat situation. I’d call it testosterone-laden, except a large portion of these aliens don’t use that chemical. In either case, what it means is that Slimwese’s out here, having a holiday while keeping the number of his guards to a minimum to keep his experience gain high.
“What’s he hunting anyway?” I ask, a cup of coffee in my hand. Not that there aren’t better—or different—drinks, but the taste of coffee, like the chocolate spread before me, is a reminder of home. There’s a certain point when you’ve been traveling for ages and you just want something familiar. I admit, I’ve been past that point for ages.
“A pugot,” Harry says. “Headless creature, mouth where its neck would be. Extra-long limbs… yeah, like that.” Harry glares at Ali who, rather than speak, has projected an image of the pugot. Arms that end with curved, diamond-tipped claws, sworls around its grey-green skin that look like tribal tattoos, and a frightening lack of eyes float before me. “Pack animals.”
“Levels?” Mikito asks.
“Fifty to sixty individually, pack leaders around seventy, and alphas can hit eighty,” Harry says. “They move in groups of five to seven.”
Not horrible at all. In fact, it’d be easy enough for any one of us to deal with individually. Well, except Harry. The man’s Skills lean in another direction. Which, I guess, makes sense since Slimwese is a non-combatant too.
“So…”
“Landing in five. I’ll deploy the Dimension Locks when we do. You have twenty minutes from the moment we touch down,” Dornalor’s voice cuts in via the intercom.
I find myself straightening, banishing idle thoughts. Time to work.
***
I’ve lost count of the number of alien worlds I’ve stepped foo
t on. All too often, it’s for instances like this—a drop and dash, a spill and kill. Rexha’s gorgeous—towering trees, undergrowth resplendent in a riotous amount of color, foliage literally glowing in all the colors of the rainbow and beyond. My helmet takes a second before it filters out the additional illumination, but it doesn’t slow me or Mikito down. The tiny Samurai is on a horse, a ghostly addition to her arsenal, the beast facing me. Her open-faced helm shows Mikito’s impatient visage, and I can’t help but smile.
“All right, I’m coming,” I say.
I take a step, then another, and the armor catches up, wrapping itself around me, cloaking me and boosting my attributes, my Skills. The hidden jets kick in as I take my fifth step, then we’re off, ducking deep into the forest.
It’s an indulgence and a man’s dream, but who doesn’t want power armor? Unlike Sabre, which I gave away years ago, my new suit of battle armor is no mass-produced personal assault vehicle but a Master Class-created masterwork. With a warranty and an in-built teleportation function that allows me to send it off once a week to get reserviced. The cost of all that was ruinous, but one of the advantages of going out and playing hired killer against bad people is that often, they have multiple bounties on them. And unlike many others, we’re willing to collect those bounties rather than have the bounties disappear.
I admit, the System’s method of allowing anyone and everyone to contribute to bounties is a minor leveling factor. There are even organizations whose sole job is to set up and manage such bounties, verifying claims and kills and ensuring the secrecy of the contributors. Since the System will take Credits right out of your account, it makes contributing really easy. Not to say there aren’t counter-bounties placed on contributors—when they’re located—but it’s an interesting addition.
