ARMS
(Vol. 1)
War for Eden
By
Stephen Arseneault
Published By:
Stephen Arseneault
Copyright 2016 Stephen Arseneault. All Rights Reserved.
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” — William Shakespeare
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www.arsenex.com
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Cover Art by Kaare Berg at:
bergone.deviantart.com
bitdivision.no
Cover Design by Elizabeth Mackey at:
www.elizabethmackey.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Books written by Stephen Arseneault
SODIUM Series
A six-book series that takes Man from his first encounter with aliens all the way to a fight for our all-out survival. Do we have what it takes to rule the galaxy?
AMP Series
Cast a thousand years into the future beyond SODIUM. This eight-book series chronicles the struggles of Don Grange, a simple package deliveryman, who is thrust into an unimaginable role in the fight against our enemies. Can we win peace and freedom after a thousand years of war?
OMEGA Series
Cast two thousand years into the future beyond AMP. The Alliance is crumbling. When corruption and politics threaten to throw the allied galaxies into chaos, Knog Beutcher gets caught in the middle. Follow along as our hero is thrust into roles that he never expected or sought. Espionage, intrigue, political assassinations, rebellions and full-on revolutions, they are all coming to Knog Beutcher’s world!
HADRON Series
HADRON is a modern day story unrelated to the SODIUM-AMP-OMEGA trilogy series. After scientists using the Large Hadron Collider discover dark matter, the world is plunged into chaos. Massive waves of electromagnetic interference take out all grid power and forms of communication the world over. Cities go dark, food and water supplies are quickly used up, and marauders rule the highways. Months after the mayhem begins, and mass starvation has taken its toll, a benevolent alien species arrives from the stars. Only, are they really so benevolent? Find out in HADRON as Man faces his first real challenge to his dominance of Earth!
Find them all at www.arsenex.com
Chapter 1
_______________________
“I take precautions, because you can’t earn a living if you’re dead,” he said as he stood blocking the open airlock.
Bax huffed. “You have the credits or not?”
Bryce Porter, the buyer of the weapons, wore a clean pressed tunic. The docking hatch and the surrounding cabin of his ship, the Blazer, a small cargo shuttle, were bright and clean. He stood in a defiant pose, his feet positioned shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed, his chin held high in the air.
“Where are the goods?”
Baxter Rumford’s fists dug into her hips as she took an aggressive stance. Her blaster pistol and short deck-sword hung on the belt-clips to her sides, the sword also strapped to her thigh. Her left eye twitched.
Bryce maintained his blocking position.
The tall, thin redhead, sporting the face and body of a model, far from a typical ship’s captain, spat on the deck. “Show… me… the… credits.”
Bryce returned an angry glare as he raised his voice. “What the… you just spit? This is my ship! My home!”
Bax scoffed. “Don’t care. Now show me the credits so we can get this disaster of a deal over with. I have better things to do than argue with some obsessively hygienic moron.”
Bryce took a step back and opened a cabinet. A cleaning cloth was retrieved. He knelt and began the process of wiping up the affront to his property. “You’re an abomination to all things civil, Miss Rumford. Bring the merchandise over and I’ll transfer your precious credits to your account. But until that freight is in my hold you aren’t seeing anything. I don’t trust bimbos.”
“Bimbo?” Bax again spat. She glared at the kneeling Bryce Porter, her face flushed red with anger. With her right hand, she reached down to grasp the handle of the blade strapped to her thigh. “You’re lucky I don’t pull this pig sticker and gut you right here and now.”
Bryce shook his head as he wiped. “Again with the barbaric behavior. The recorders on this ship say you aren’t going to gut anyone.”
Bax looked over her shoulder as she yelled down the docking tube. “Slug! Drag those containers over here!”
Bryce huffed as he continued to polish his floor, obsessed with its cleanliness.
As Bax stared down, the corner of the cloth was pinned to the floor with the glossy, red heel of her high-legged boot. “Look Porter— I don’t like you. This will be our last deal. You ever wanna buy from me again— you need to show respect.”
Jerking the cloth from her hold, Bryce Porter stood and walked to the cabinet with a scowl. The cloth was neatly folded and dropped into a dirty-clothes bin. “Fine by me. There are plenty of other suppliers out here selling your numbers.”
Tawnish Freely, a former Biomarine and Baxter Rumford’s new hire, dragged three containers of weapons across the docking tube, returning for a fourth marked “Plasma Charges”.
A proximity alarm sounded on the trader’s ship. “Alert. Alert. Vessel approaching.”
Bryce glanced back at his console display before turning again to face Bax. “What is this? You brought others? Get me those charges!”
“What the… that’s a New Earth ship, not mine!” Bax grabbed his forearm, reaching for the account store on his wrist. “Give me my credits!”
Bryce jerked away. “You brought Earthers? Give me my merchandise!”
The struggle momentarily stopped as a voice came over the general comm. “This is the New Earth Destroyer Hemlock. Power down your drives and prepare to be boarded.”
Tawn dropped the container of charges in the buyer’s hold. “Two more boxes of residuals. What do I do?”
Bax again reached for the account bracelet on Bryce’s wrist. “Give me my payment!”
Bryce covered it with his other hand. “I want those boxes!”
Bax spun, grabbed her assistant by the shoulder, pushing her toward the docking tube before breaking into a run. As they entered her ship, she slapped the airlock button to close the hatch. A sharp cut to the right and a further sprint had the nervous dealer at the pilot’s console.
The docking tube retracted. The Fargo began to speed away. Bryce Porter turned his ship in the opposite direction. The New Earth destroyer continued to close.
An angry Bryce came over a comm. “You will pay for this Rumford. No trader on the station will do business with you once this gets out.”
As the Blazer accelerated, four pulses from a plasma cannon saw to the end of the Geldon trader, Bryce Porter. His ship— half disintegrated. The remainder shattered into a thousand pieces. Tawn took the seat beside her boss.
Bax slowly shook her head. “Can’t o
utrun those.”
“What do we do?”
Baxter Rumford brought her ship to a stop. “We do whatever they want.”
Seconds later, the Hemlock pulled alongside. A docking tube extended with a boarding party of New Earth Marines moving onto the Fargo. The sale of illegal arms was over.
***
Seven weeks later
Bax spat on the deck.
Tawn Freely frowned. “You know, some wouldn’t consider that a very lady-like act.”
Bax huffed. “They teach you that in warfare charm school?”
Tawn smirked and shook her head. “Nope. Just saying. You get drunk and talk about meeting a good man and then you act like an orangutan— scratching your ass and smelling your finger. Not very attractive.”
Bax flipped her head from side to side. Her relatively short, bright red hair whirled out to the sides as if from a televised shampoo commercial. “If my butt itches, I scratch it, OK? Why should a slug care?”
Tawn sighed. “I care because I have to see it. Look, you’ve got the body and the face to make a play on just about any guy on the station. Why do you keep picking those seedy losers at the bar? You know, a guy with credits isn’t everything.”
Bax huffed. “Says the crewman who can’t even breed. And she can’t pay her bills, so she spends her time off-world, helping her captain sell illegal arms to scum eking out a living in the outer colonies. Taking love advice from a slug is about the last thing I’ll be doing.”
Tawn sighed. “Can’t argue with any of that. Only job I could get after the war. And I’m thankful— at least I will be if I ever get paid. And you should be glad to have me. Who else has fired and can handle half the weapons you’re pushing out here?”
Bax tilted her head and scoffed at her first mate. “Wasn’t me who called an end to the war with the New Earthers. What a dumb name— New Earth. What moron came up with that?”
“Like ours is much better?” Tawn said as she snorted a laugh. “Domicile. Why not just call it House?”
Bax checked the nav display for approaching ships. “You have that manifest ready?”
Tawn nodded as she looked over the info on her console. “Fifteen repeating plasma rifles. You do know those are highly illegal, right? We get caught and it’s execution time. Not like the standard plasma unit, which is illegal enough.”
“And the twenty-six zappers?” Bax asked.
Tawn shook her head. “I wish you wouldn’t call ‘em that. It’s not good for business. Anyone who knows weapons calls them by their name, Fox-40s, not the sound they make when fired.”
Bax scowled. “Fox-40. Another dumb name. Who came up with that? Some zookeeper?”
Tawn took a deep breath. “No. The F designation is for firearm. The 40 is the unit number. It’s the standard issue sidearm for—”
Bax raised her hand. “Yada, yada, for the Domicile Defense Force and you Biomarines. I know the story. You’ve told me at least twenty times now.”
“Yet you still call them zappers.” Tawn sniped.
“They are what they are.”
The short, tank-like first mate turned to face her console display. “Here we go. We have an inbound ship on the sensor array. Ten minutes and we’ll be docked.”
Bax smiled. “Good. Now— read off the rest of that manifest to me…”
***
Tawn edged the Fargo in close, pressing the console button that allowed the auto-docking computer to take charge. “We’ll connect with the Gulward in thirty seconds.”
“I’ve got a good feeling about this one.” Bax leaned back in her seat with a smile.
Tawn scowled at the rickety ship on her display. “Why is every other vessel we dock with such a turd?”
“If you haven’t guessed it already, we’re mostly dealing with maggots in this business. Bryce Porter, even though an idiot, was an anomaly.”
Tawn stood and walked toward the cargo hold hatch. “Cletus Dodger. That name sound legit to you? I’ll bet he hasn’t had a bath in a month.”
Bax followed and reached for the airlock door button. “Don’t care what his name is or what he looks or smells like so long as he has the credits. You know this buy lets me pay you for last month, right?”
Tawn smiled as she moved behind a transparent blast wall. “I know it. And I hope this goes as smoothly as our last two. And just so you know, if it’s anything like that Geldon deal, you best be getting your ass back here without arguing over credits. This slug wants to keep breathing. We lucked out with all that contraband having been moved to the Blazer. They probably only let us go because there was no evidence of arms dealing.”
Bax pressed the airlock button. “Yeah, well, you can’t win them all. Just follow my lead and we’ll be in and out of here.”
“Got it.”
Bax stood five meters across a docking through-way from her buyer. “You Cletus?”
The heavyweight man in his tattered trenchcoat replied, “You don’t look like a Baxter.”
“You got a problem with it, track down my derelict parents and take it up with them.”
Cletus looked down the tube at a ready and armed Tawn. “You can tell your slug to relax. I’m unarmed. But Farker has a nasty bite if he feels I’m being threatened.”
A mechanical pet trotted into view behind its owner.
Bax laughed. “Farker? What is that, a robotic dog? And who named him that?”
Cletus shrugged as he clomped forward. “Real ones kept dying on me. When Farker dies, I just plug him in for a bit and he’s good as new. Ain’t that right, boy? And I call him Farker because his bark sounds more like a fark than a bark. Even if I knew how to fix his programming for that I wouldn’t. I like his— fark.”
The unusual pet offered a very mechanical wag of its short tail.
Bax frowned as she checked the time on her bracelet. “Pathetic. OK then. Let’s get this deal done. You have the fifty-six hundred forty-two credits?”
Cletus nodded. “After I see the goods I’ll be happy to make the transfer.”
Bax held up her hand, stopping Cletus at the end of the docking tube. “Show me— before you step on this ship. I need to see proof.”
Cletus held up a wrist bracelet displaying a universal account and the credits waiting to be transferred. “Happy?”
Bax nodded. “Right through here, Mr. Dodger. Your purchases await.” She flipped a latch and opened a container.
Cletus picked up a plasma rifle. “Charges?”
Bax pointed at another case. “Four hundred, as ordered. And we won’t be bringing them close to any of these rifles while we’re docked. I don’t like it when things get messy. And a loaded plasma rifle has messy written all over it.”
Cletus replied, “I must insist that you open the container so I can inspect its contents.”
Bax huffed. “Fine. Put the rifle back and I’ll be happy to open her up.”
Cletus looked Bax up and down as he placed the weapon back in its case. “I would never have taken you for an arms dealer, Miss Rumford. That goon behind the blast wall— she’s more what I’d expect.”
Tawn scowled. “Can I frag him now?”
Bax shook her head. “Not ‘til after the credit transfer’s complete.”
Cletus stared at Tawn as Bax opened the case full of plasma charges. “I like her spunk. Would you be willing to trade her for Farker?”
Bax smirked. “Does he moan and complain all the time?”
“Never.” Cletus smiled as Tawn returned an angry glare.
Bax looked at Farker who was now sniffing around Tawn’s feet. “Yeah… no. I think I’ll keep her. Sometimes you get attached and they’re hard to part with, you know?”
The robotic dog went flying against the docking tube wall as Tawn kicked it with a heavy boot. Following several simulated yelps, the companion of Cletus Dodger scampered back to its own ship.
Cletus gave his own angry glare. “What was that for? You always abuse innocent animals? He’s only follow
ing his friendship programming.”
Tawn spat on the deck. “Contraption tried to hump my leg. Nobody humps my leg without my consent!”
“I’ll bet.” Cletus replied. “And that spitting… not very lady-like… even for a slug.”
Bax chuckled before looking at the time on her bracelet. “OK. Let’s get this finished before a new war gets started. Satisfied with the charges? We have other business to get to.”
Cletus nodded. “They appear to be in order.”
Bax cracked open another container as Tawn scowled at a robotic dog that was now poking its head back into the far end of the docking tube. “Here’s your zappers.”
Cletus looked up. “Zappers? I’ll have to advise you to not call them that. These are weapons… powerful and deadly weapons. Many a colonist would grimace at their only means of defense against a wild bogler being called a zapper. It’s called the Fox-40 and is revered by its owners. Each of these will fetch a premium price.”
“Premium, you say?” Bax grinned.
Cletus sighed. “Our terms are not open for negotiation, if that’s what you are implying.”
Bax smacked the heavy buyer on the back of his stained overcoat, pulling her hand back in regret as something gooey clung to her palm. “Hmm. Not a problem. The 40s are all here.”
The container was further opened, revealing the preferred defensive weapon of the outer colonies.
Bax frowned as she swung her hand in an attempt to liberate the goo. “These two crates have the other items you requested. I threw in an extra shock stick as a bonus. Something to keep you motivated for doing business with me. What is this?”
Bax stared at the glob in the center of her palm before attempting to wipe it off on a nearby wall. “Slug. Help the man load his goods. Mr. Dodger, I believe payment is due.”
Tawn slapped her Fox-40 onto her hip-clip and stepped out from behind the blast wall. Picking up the first crate of residual items, she began to muscle it through the docking tube to the Gulward.
Cletus Dodger transferred the credits to a grinning Baxter Rumford.
As Tawn reached the hold of the trader’s ship, a loud voice could be heard coming through the docking tube. “Somebody better get their robotic menace off my leg before it gets disintegrated!”
ARMS War for Eden Page 1
