Renegade Empire: An Intergalactic Space Opera Adventure (Renegade Star Book 10)

by J. N. Chaney

  “However,” interjected Sigmond, “I’m afraid that my factories simply aren’t fast enough to provide you an operational vessel within the time period needed for this mission.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said. We were leaving tomorrow morning, which didn’t allow for much time to build an entire ship. I hadn’t even expected to get an update on this before the end of the week, let alone today. I looked at Alphonse. “Whatever you do, don’t let Vick or his people know we’re building this. I want at least ten of these in the air before he knows they even exist.”

  Alphonse seemed to understand, and he didn’t question the request. He was smart enough to know that I’d rather have a secret squad of capable ships at my disposal—something to help play defense in case Vick chose to turn on us. He knew about the cards we’d shown him, but he didn’t know everything. Not yet, and I wanted to keep it that way.

  “And what about the other thing?” I asked, after a moment. “Have you managed to contact him?”

  Alphonse smiled. “I have, indeed,” he answered. “My contact tells me that Admiral Shaw is en route to Earth and will arrive within the week. He’s moving under the name Dredan Gregario, a simple merchant with all the right credentials to get through every checkpoint between here and Union territory.”

  “And you’re sure Shaw will make it to the rendezvous?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve known the admiral for over a decade. He’s always had a penchant for survival.”

  “Still, you’re sending the ship,” I said.

  “Of course,” said Alphonse. “We’ll pick him up in four days and ferry him the rest of the way.”

  “Cloaked,” I added.

  “He’ll arrive without Vice Admiral Vick taking notice,” he told me. “Thank you again, Captain. Having him here will prove a safer alternative to staying in Union space.” Alphonse paused. “He’s also not ready for his forced retirement.”

  “I hope not, because I could sure as hell use his help right now,” I said. “Keeping Vick and Rackham so close feels dangerous. It’ll be good to have someone who understands them.”

  “If there’s one thing I know of Shaw,” said Alphonse, “it is that he sees more of people than any of us can hope to match. He’s the best I’ve ever met.”

  I smirked. “I’m sure the old man would say the same of you, Al.”

  “He very well might,” said the Constable.

  3

  The following day was filled with activity. Crews bustled from one side of the loading platform to the other, preparing shuttles to escort personnel from the surface to the core. Everyone had a job to do, whether they were part of the away team or not. The people who stayed behind would be busy with other preparations on Titan, readying the ship until the moment we called for them.

  I sat aboard the Nebula Prospect, one of the two Sarkonian vessels we’d stolen, with a small crew of twenty. Abigail and Freddie stood with me, while Lucia and a handful of her soldiers waited at the rear of the bridge, talking amongst themselves.

  Lieutenant Rackham and a team of six waited alone, not far from the rest of us, each of them wearing the same stoic expression. They reminded me of trained dogs, not moving until their owner gave them permission. I imagined Rackham or Vick standing before them, holding out a hand to keep them still, then snapping a finger to tell them it was okay to move, and they would whine and yip at the privilege.

  “System check,” said Chelanah.

  “Operating within normal expectancy,” said McCabe, a young man in his mid-twenties. He was a pilot we’d recruited out of the Deadlands, formerly employed by the Vernise Trading Co. before a wave of layoffs hit. I’d tasked Sigmond with sorting the new arrivals into suggested career fields based on their experience and known aptitudes, which cut down on those initial assessments. Still, we ultimately left it up to the individual to choose their preferred job. McCabe, as it happened, loved to pilot, and he was more than happy to seize the opportunity to sit behind the helm again. After a short time in a strike ship, he had moved to The Galactic Dawn, and finally to the Nebula Prospect. Not bad for a discarded pilot from the Deadlands.

  “Sigmond,” I said, sitting in the captain’s chair at the center of the bridge, its layout a far cry from the Renegade Star’s, capable of seating nearly a dozen crew members.

  “Yes, sir,” said Sigmond, his voice coming in through my personal line.

  “Are we ready to open the tunnel?” I asked.

  “We are, indeed, sir,” said the Cognitive. “My drone is standing by as well.”

  “Good,” I muttered, leaning back in my seat.

  “Time to pull the curtain back?” asked Abigail from a few meters away, sitting beside Freddie.

  “Are we sure we’re ready?” asked Freddie, nervous as usual.

  “There’s a drone,” I said, dismissing his concern with a slight wave of my hand. “It’ll run a few scans, send back the data, and we’ll see how it shapes from there.”

  “Oh, good,” said Freddie.

  “But I don’t plan on waiting long. As soon as we get the go-ahead, we’re moving in,” I finished.

  He swallowed. “Okay, then.”

  “Gaia is activating the slip tunnel sequence now, sir,” informed Sigmond. “Standby.”

  The holo display came to life directly in front of us, but all we could see was the dark void of the core. Below that, a three-dimensional layout of the surrounding walls and city hovered off the floor, marking our exact position inside the center of the Earth.

  Freddie and Abigail watched the screen, as did most of the others, each of them rife with anticipation for what was about to happen.

  Rackham and his team were especially drawn to the holo, having never witnessed the tunnel before now. I wondered what expectations they had, given what their reports indicated. This rift was the largest ever recorded, taking passengers to the other side of the galaxy, defying what most researchers believed was possible for slipspace travel. Then again, such was the story of Earth, as Dressler had once said. To study this planet was to study the impossible.

  A green light formed inside the darkness of the core’s centermost area—a spark of electricity ripping through the fabric of reality followed by an explosive burst of light as the tunnel roared into being.

  A flash of light filled the holo as the tear split itself open and the largest tunnel in the known galaxy roared into existence, dwarfing our ship like an insect floating beside a mountain.

  “Send the probe,” I ordered. “Let’s see what’s waiting for us.”

  “Deploying,” replied Sigmond.

  The holo changed to show the probe moving toward the rift and easing into the tunnel, before fading into the emerald storm within.

  The crew waited quietly and patiently for the drone to make its way to the other side of that pathway, though none of us could say definitively how long it might take. The Eternals had come here on a space station, near instantaneously, but none of us had taken the trip from this direction. Slip tunnels operated on two opposite streams, each flowing at a different speed. The journey to Earth might last only a few seconds, but the opposite might take hours, perhaps even days.

  A light blinked on the holo, and a small orb appeared. “The probe has arrived, sir,” said Sigmond, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. “Performing initial system check.”

  “Get us a visual,” I said.

  “Yes, sir. Working now,” he answered. “The probe is operating within expected parameters. Initializing scan.”

  The holo changed again, this time giving us the viewpoint of the probe—stars and darkness, at least at first, until the probe rotated its line-of-sight to find a cloud of pink, green, and orange in the distance. A vast cloud of space dust once known as the Eagle Nebula.

  The supposed home of the Celestials.

  Continuing its scan, the probe’s line-of-sight adjusted once again, and this time it revealed debris strewn across the void. Twisted metal drif
ted past the probe, silent and still, roughly two thousand kilometers away.

  Abigail and I shared a brief glance, confirming what we both suspected—this was the splintered remains of what was once the Eternals’ space station. A graveyard, essentially, with who knew how many corpses floating frozen through the wreckage.

  Another holo blinked to life beside the first, this time with a three-dimensional layout of the nearby stars as the probe continued its scan. Lights blinked into existence, several at a time, and soon we had a full chart of the nearby area before us.

  More importantly, a red indicator appeared inside the local system, among the debris—something that did not appear to belong, even among the ruins. It was neither an asteroid nor a planetoid, but something altogether different.

  “What is that?” gawked Freddie.

  As he asked the question, the holo zoomed closer to show a better image, detailed and thorough. A white and reflective strip of metal, smooth and perfect, stood out from the jagged brown of the tattered station.

  “It appears to be a ship,” informed Sigmond. “The readings are nearly identical to those of the Celestial vessel found on Earth.”

  I stiffened, instinctively squeezing my knee with my hand. “Does it see us?” I asked.

  “Unknown,” said the Cognitive. “It appears to be adrift, sir. The ship is neither moving nor emitting any heat.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” said Dressler. “The Celestials can hide their body heat. Their ships may be able to do the same.”

  “I’d say that’s pretty likely,” I said. “Siggy, move the probe closer, but be ready to kill the tunnel at my word.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sigmond.

  The probe ignited thrusters and began its trek toward the other ship’s location. The rest of us waited, barely breathing.

  At any moment, I expected the drifting white ship to burst to life and fly at us like a monster jumping out of the shadows. My hand instinctively tightened into a fist at the thought, but I let out a slow breath to release the tension.

  What remained of the shriveled husk that was once my hopeful, optimistic side said that Sigmond could be wrong. That this was, in fact, just more debris that happened to look like the enemy, and that we were all jittery as hell from all the near-death experiences.

  There was a reason that part of me didn’t steer the ship, though. I knew better than to rely on hope. It got people killed. Better to be prepared with a fist and a gun, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

  As the probe finally neared the small Celestial ship, familiar details came into view on the holo. That perfect, unknown metal glinted in the cold void, flawless and unscannable.

  There was no question in my mind.

  “Confirmed, Captain,” said Sigmond, his sudden voice making a few of Rackham’s men jump. “Though my scans continue to return no relevant data, I would dare say this appears to be a Celestial vessel.”

  We found the enemy far sooner than I intended. This mission had been for recon—to run a few scans of the system and get the hell out.

  It seemed things were about to be a little more complicated.

  4

  “What are your orders, Captain?” Sigmond asked over the Nebula Prospect’s primary channel.

  I didn’t answer. I needed a minute to think.

  The cushion of the Captain’s chair creaked as I stood, crossing to the holo so I could study it. Arms crossed, my mind raced with the possible outcomes of continuing our recon mission.

  With the Union breathing down my neck and a ceasefire so tense I could cut it with a pocketknife, there just wasn’t much time to relax. Waiting out the Celestials wasn’t an option, not if I let Vick get too comfortable.

  Still, if the ship had so much as twitched, I would have cut the tunnel faster than Freddie would’ve been able to panic. So far, however, the flawless white ship hadn’t moved or given any indication that there was anyone home, and that was a good sign for us.

  Probably.

  An uncloaked Celestial ship raised a few too many red flags for my liking. This could’ve been a trap, easy. A way to lure us in and tempt us with the possibility of getting the information we needed, all so another one of those ugly ass Celestials could have itself a go at genocide.

  Or, like the tattered remains of the space station, this ship could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I toyed with the thought, wondering if perhaps the slip tunnel had done our work for us.

  If only. But I didn’t get that lucky.

  “At least it’s adrift,” said Freddie.

  “Maybe,” I said, not convinced as I took a few more steps to get a better look at it on the holo.

  “If it wanted to kill us, it would be cloaked,” said Abigail. “They have the tech, why not use it?”

  “Why not, indeed,” I muttered, more to myself than to answer her. I paused after I heard myself say it, annoyed that I had sounded a bit too like Hitchens for my own liking. “That’s the only reason I haven’t killed the tunnel.”

  Dressler leaned back in her chair. “This could all be a ploy, you know.”

  “You think so, Doc?” I asked, looking at the former Union scientist.

  She hesitated to answer, pursing her lips as she studied the holo with a slight frown. “I don’t know,” she eventually confessed. “Though, I am certain if Mr. Malloy were here, he would advise caution.”

  “We don’t have time to wait it out,” said Abigail, leaning against the wall. “We need to know what we’re up against before the rest of them come for us. We need something to go on, anything at all that could give us even the slightest advantage. Right now…” She trailed off, her eyes glossing over a bit as she stared at the holo.

  I nodded. She didn’t need to finish that sentence for me to know exactly where she was going with the thought.

  Right now, we had next to nothing going for us. No advantages in an upcoming war that felt unavoidable. Killing a Celestial had taken an entire team of soldiers, a Cognitive and his drones, and every ounce of strength we could muster. Neutronium-tipped bullets would probably kill a Celestial, but we had no way of knowing for sure—and if they worked, it was still difficult firepower to reproduce and manufacture.

  Besides, Celestials had technology so advanced it was beyond even the Eternals’ understanding. I suspected we’d only had a glimpse at their full capabilities.

  We didn’t have much going for us, and this could be our only chance to get ahead before an army of these things attacked. If we could get something—anything—it was worth a shot.

  Without more information, we were clueless. Everyone in my crew and every single settler on Earth was at risk until I could figure out how to destroy these things, and I wasn’t about to fail.

  “Captain Hughes,” said Athena, her relaxed voice through my comm shattering my focus. “I’m afraid the tunnel can’t remain open much longer. I’ll need you to make a decision whether to go forward or remain on Earth.”

  “I was thinking I’d grab lunch first, actually,” I said with a smirk as I gestured to the holo. “What do you think I’m doing?”

  “Apologies, sir,” the Cognitive said, polite as ever despite my jab. “I will await your decision, though I must implore you to make one quickly.”

  I cracked my knuckles to ease the tension building in my body and scanned the faces around me. I had already made up my mind, but I wasn’t about to choose for the rest of them. It wasn’t my place, not even as their Captain. Not with a mission like this.

  Around me, my crew—and Rackham’s men, since I didn’t rightly count them among my people—all stared breathlessly at the Celestial ship as it drifted through the black. I could see the fear in half their faces and stubborn determination in the rest.

  Rackham and his troops seemed to finally realize the dangers facing them, and judging by the way half of them anxiously gripped their rifles, I figured they were none too pleased by the realization. These were hardened soldiers, used to war with
other men, but they’d never faced a threat like this. We were facing monsters, and in this we were allies. I hardly trusted any of them, but I had to rely on their support if we’d have a chance at lasting through the coming war.

  My gaze shifted to Bolin, who was standing with his men, and I wasn’t as eager to drag them along—Gustin, Nash, Mackie, and Hugh, the fresh blood brought in to fill Felix’s shoes. The kid nodded to me, fight and fire in his eyes, seemingly eager to prove his worth.

  In unison, Abigail and Dressler leaned toward the holo, though I doubted they realized they were near-perfect mirrors of each other as they studied the screen. Freddie slipped his hand in Petra’s palm and squeezed, but I figured it was more for his own comfort than hers. Behind me, Lucia and her soldiers stood gripping their weapons and ready for battle. The bridge crew watched the holo with bated breath, each of them equally excited and terrified—as they rightly should’ve been.

  With a Celestial free-floating through the void just a few minutes away, every life in this ship was on the line.

  I took a breath. “The way I figure, this ain’t entirely my decision to make,” I finally said, looping my thumb through my belt as I looked each of them in the eye.

  Freddie’s eyes widened, his voice shaking a little as he spoke. “But Captain, this—”

  “I’m going,” I said plainly, making it clear what I meant. “We need the information that’s on that ship and whatever else we can scrape from the rubble. Hell, we need whatever else we can salvage, and I’d wager all the credits I have that there’s Celestials out there hiding somewhere in the dark. But I ain’t leading a death march.” I pointed at the holo, specifically at the debris waiting for us in what was once called the Eagle Nebula. “I won’t force you all out with me, not unless you want to come. When this ship goes through that tunnel, it may never come back. Anyone on this boat may never come back. If you stay, you best keep that in mind.” I crossed my arms and paced in a slow circle as I briefly studied every face on the bridge, making sure the gravity of the situation was laid out as plainly as possible. “If you’re unclear about whether or not you still want to be here, there’s no shame in stepping off. I won’t think any less of you.” I paused, briefly making eye contact with Freddie, giving him the out if he wanted to take it.