The Deliverance Code (Star Streaker Book 2)

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The Deliverance Code (Star Streaker Book 2) Page 1

by T. M. Catron




  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  The Deliverance Code

  Defiance

  Extras

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  More Books!

  About Phoenix Prime

  Cover

  The Deliverance Code is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  2017 Antimatter Books ebook

  Copyright © 2017 T.M. Catron

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  www.tmcatron.com

  Book/Cover design by T.M. Catron

  Star Streaker ship design by Allen Grippin

  Phoenix Prime Logo used with permission.

  License Note:

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from Amazon. Thank you for your support.

  Please leave a review after reading!

  For Jeremy

  The Deliverance Code

  The Star Streaker flew over the bright waters of the Lantes River on Ares. The gigantic river wasn’t a river at all, but a sea flowing between the poles of the planet. Its current was strong, its waters deep. Countless smaller rivers and streams fed into it like branches on a tree, providing life and sustenance to the peaceful villages that dotted the landscape.

  Barges thirty times the size of the Streaker moved up and down the river. Smaller, more nimble, sailing vessels dodged in and around the barges, fishing with old-fashioned nets and hooks. It was the only way to catch lantess, Ares’ prized fish.

  On either side of the Lantes, purple and green fields stretched as far as the eye could see. Here and there, small villages sprang up out of the dirt, their huts creating a simple, quaint backdrop for the technologically advanced cities.

  Cities were spread few and far between, far out across the planet. The Star Streaker headed for a small one. Large towers didn’t dominate the skyline, but rather sand and plaster buildings gave the town an Old Earth feel that was warm and inviting.

  Before landing, pilot James Fletcher swooped around to examine the spaceport. Captain Rance Cooper sat hunched over a screen, inspecting the area and the ships in it. The planet’s gravity had kicked in, and when James rolled the ship, Rance pitched to the right. Her braided brown hair hung down toward Solaris, the CO sitting in the chair across from hers. She watched the screen in front of her like their lives depended on it.

  They sort of did.

  Then James flew in a big circle, forcing them back into their seats and breaking Rance’s concentration.

  She couldn’t blame him for doing somersaults. After a week in hyperspace, the crew had been nervous about landing on Ares all day. If the Empire was lying in wait, they would have to jump again, and then maybe again, and again. Rance feared they would spend the rest of their lives in hyperspace, running away from Unity. But they hadn’t seen any Unity Dark Fighters or stealth ships since they arrived.

  “No sign of any Unity ships, Captain,” James said in confirmation.

  Rance breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Founders.”

  “I don’t think the Founders had anything to do with it, Captain,” Solaris said dryly.

  “Right,” Rance said. “It’s because of my awesome captain’s abilities.”

  “How eloquent,” Solaris said, snorting. “More like growing up in the Outer Colonies taught you a few things about self-preservation. And, oh yeah, your pilot deserves some of the credit.”

  “I like to think I deserve a lot of the credit,” James said, his voice bursting with pride. Since he was flying the ship, he faced the window.

  All Rance saw of him was his back—and then an excited fist pump.

  “Did you see the way I flew on Doxor 5?” he asked.

  Solaris ignored James and turned his seat toward Rance. He jerked his thumb in James’ direction but kept his eyes on the captain. “Where did he learn to fly like that?”

  “My father was a ship-builder on Xanthes,” James said, determined to keep everyone’s attention. “But, when I was thirteen, he arranged for me to fly the transports off-planet, to load up with the larger ships heading for Triton.”

  “I’m sure your captain appreciated you flying his transport upside down.”

  “Nope. He fired me the first time I did it,” James said, grinning. “Then I got another job on another transport.”

  “And that one?”

  “Lasted two months. For some reason, the ship owners didn’t approve of me learning to evade possible attackers.”

  “Were you attacked?” Solaris asked, looking amused. He winked at Rance, clearly enjoying himself at James’ expense.

  Since James couldn’t see out the back of his head, he continued talking like nothing was going on behind him. “No, I was practicing in case pirates tried to attack us.”

  With a click, Tally chimed in over the comm. “Why don’t you stop bragging long enough to land the ship, James Fletcher!”

  “I can land this ship with my eyes closed!”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “When I found James five years ago,” Rance interjected, “he had been on ten ships in six months. Put us down here, James.”

  Solaris shook his head. “How did you end up hiring someone who’d had so many jobs?”

  “I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t already seen him fly.”

  James maneuvered them over an empty landing pad. “Nah. It was my dashing good looks, or didn’t she tell you?”

  Solaris shot Rance a look of confusion. “Oh. Sorry. You two… I didn’t realize…”

  Rance chortled. James guffawed, laughing so hard he doubled over his console. Sure, Rance thought James was handsome—in a schoolboy, next-door-neighbor kind of way. But she’d always thought of him as the brother she’d never had.

  “No,” she said through her snickering. “James already has too many girlfriends.”

  “He’s not your type?”

  “Afraid not—no offense, James,” Rance said, borrowing one of Solaris’ phrases. She looked over at Solaris, expecting him to make another joke. Instead, she caught him looking at her. What was that on his face? Relief?

  She didn’t know how to react under Solaris’ direct gaze and busied herself with making sure her braid was tidy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solaris suddenly become interested in the buttons on a panel near his elbow.

  “Speaking of girlfriends,” James said, derailing Rance’s train of thought, “mine will be waiting for me.”

  He smoothed down his wavy auburn hair, then ran his fingers through it and fluffed it back up. Rance looked at Solaris again and rolled her eyes.

  “Do we get to meet her?” Abel asked over the comm. As usual, the rest of the crew had been listening to the banter in the cockpit. Abel called it “in-flight entertainment,” Tally called it foolishness, and Harper said it always brightened her day to hear everyone getting along.

  The Star Streaker set down in the small port outside the city. Brown, sand-colored buildings reminded Rance of archival pictures she had seen of warm countries on Old Earth.

  From the landing pad, soft green and purple fields stretched like
a bright, fluffy blanket all the way to the river, which sparkled in the bright sunshine. At the edge of the city, a huge stone statue of a lantess—a fish with long fangs, four fins, and a long tail—stood out against the backdrop of yellow sky like it was taking a bite out of the sun.

  “What’s the plan, Captain?” Solaris asked, turning his attention to the landscape outside the window.

  “First, we need to find out if Unity is still looking for us and if our pictures are plastered all over every wanted bulletin in the galaxy. Then, we’ll get a new registration for the Star Streaker.”

  “That won’t be easy,” Solaris said. “The ones that look real cost almost as much as a ship. And the people who sell them aren’t easy to deal with.”

  Rance pretended to be shocked. “Why, Solaris, how do you know what it takes to get a fake registration?”

  “It was part of my job. Do you remember that the Galaxy Wizards are the most elite crime-fighting unit in the galaxy?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think they handled small things like false registrations. I thought the Wizards were more big picture kind of guys.”

  “Well, technically they are. But when you spend your life chasing pirates and other various ne’er-do-wells across the galaxy, you learn to spot the tricks they use. As soon as Unity finds someone with a false registration, it assumes you’re a pirate.”

  He looked pointedly at Rance.

  Rance laughed. “Other various ne’er-do-wells?”

  “Criminals.”

  “Yeah, I know what it means,” she said, fighting to stifle her laughter. “How’d you make it to twenty-eight years old using words like ne’er-do-well?”

  Solaris shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what they’re called, does it?”

  “Yeah, but, Solaris, did you ever call a pirate that to his face? Please tell me you did! I bet his reaction was priceless!”

  James burst out laughing and swiveled around in his chair. Rance joined in, and they enjoyed a moment of rowdy laughter at Solaris’ expense.

  The CO was unfazed. “Laugh all you want, but I’ve put more pirates in prison than anybody. And you can’t be too careful, Captain. The Wizards have been putting extreme pressure on anyone who has contact with pirates. They’ve got a lot of pressure from Triton to eradicate the pirate colonies.”

  Rance sniffed and wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. “That will never happen. And I don’t look like a pirate. If I’m ever captured, all you have to do is tell them I’m running from my father. That’s all the cover story I need.”

  “You hope.”

  Rance swiveled around to face him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “If you’d like to offer more insight, Solaris, I’m willing to listen. As long as you don’t use more words like ne’er-do-well.”

  James still snickered, but turned back to shut down the engines. The Streaker made a deep, rumbling sound, then spun down into quiet.

  “No promises, Captain,” Solaris said.

  “And,” Rance added. “You should be grateful we have a false registration that can be changed. Because if we didn’t, Unity would’ve found us a long time ago and we wouldn’t be here to hide you.”

  “Right,” he said, swinging his seat around to face her again. “You want advice? Keep using a fake registration—that’s a given. But let me check out the new one before we install it into the ship. I know a few tricks that would ensure we don’t inadvertently put a tracking device alongside it. Oh, and I know someone who can help. That is, if you’re willing to let me take you to them.”

  Surprised at the offer, Rance said, “I’ll be happy to let you look at it, Solaris. But, on this ship, Harper is our science officer, and she’s a genius at installing fake registrations and avoiding tracking systems. So, you can work with her and we’ll see just how much you know.”

  Solaris smiled and climbed out of his chair. “All right. We’ll see how good Harper really is.”

  He tried to stretch but had to duck to keep from hitting the ceiling.

  The port had a group of mismatched buildings that served as the station offices. Since James’ face was unknown and not on a most-wanted list—“maybe a wanted list, Captain, but not a most wanted list”—he hunted down some of the station workers and made inquiries.

  The search for Solaris was still on, of course. Unity and the Wizards would never stop looking for him. All his fake faces were plastered on warning bulletins scrolling across screens throughout the galaxy. None of them had found his current face—sandy hair, a few freckles, strong features. If they ever did, he would change it again.

  To her relief, Rance’s face had been kept out of everything. Although she’d been spotted with Solaris, no one had got a good enough look at her to figure out who she was.

  The only worrisome picture was the one of the Star Streaker on top of that building on Doxor 5. Anyone who saw the ship would recognize it right away, like spotting a tree in a desert. They couldn’t do much about it—Rance refused to trade her “baby” or alter it in any way.

  They landed on their original plan: get a new, false registration for the Star Streaker. By changing registration, they’d have a better shot of flying again unnoticed. Because of the vast distances of space, potential patrols would receive the registration and signature long before they ever saw the ship.

  In the Outer Colonies, citizens paid little attention to the wanted bulletins. First, there were too many wanted faces and names to keep track of. Second, they knew a few of the faces and didn’t want to be labeled a snitch. Third, the pictures of the Star Streaker had been drowned in a sea of other pictures of wanted ships throughout the galaxy.

  “So that means all we have to do is find someone willing to sell another registration,” Rance said. “Although I’m surprised Unity didn’t let the Star Streaker take precedence since you are inside it.”

  Solaris gazed around at the maze of offices next to the landing pad. He acted like he was looking for something in particular, but before Rance could ask him, he said, “Unity long ago lost control of all their interests. The Empire is just too big, even to hunt down someone like me.”

  “You’re so modest.”

  “I try. Anyway, I’ve already made inquiries about that registration,” Solaris said, looking pleased. “And I think I found just the place. We’ve had a stroke of luck.”

  Rance narrowed her eyes at him. “That was fast. When did you find the time?”

  “I know a few people and contacted them while James was in the office.”

  “Here in this city?”

  “Yes, here in this city,” Solaris said in a mocking tone. “You’re not the only person with contacts.”

  Rance started back for the ship, but Solaris grabbed her arm and steered her in the opposite direction. “Nope. This way.”

  He released her and walked around the buildings. Rance followed, her boots crunching over trash and debris blown about by the wind.

  “I don’t know about this,” Rance said. “I’ve done this just fine in the past. And no offense, but how do you know these guys are any good?”

  “Because it’s a her, and I helped catch her once,” Solaris said. “The only reason she’s not still rotting in prison is because of me—sort of.”

  Rance was impressed. “I sense a story.”

  “I think it’ll have to wait, Captain. They’re waiting for us.”

  “Alright, we’ll try it. But I reserve the right to nix the operation if I don’t feel comfortable with it.”

  Solaris nodded, and they walked behind the disconnected buildings that made up the port office. The alleyways here were narrow and dark, populated with rotten wooden doors and weary-looking stalls. The vendors they passed looked at them hopefully, thinking they were buyers. One look at the rotten food and one whiff of the sickly sweet stench that accompanied it told Rance they didn’t need to buy anything here.

  She was more than a little curious about these people Solaris knew, and her level of excitement increased th
e further they walked. Using her implant, she logged into the city’s network and requested a map. On the special ZOD lens in her eye, a grid popped up, showing her the various outlets from the alley to the main streets.

  If they were forced to run—because that happened from time to time—she wanted a way out.

  And she was curious about Solaris’ abilities. She knew so little about him. Still, he was her CO, and what better way to find out what he was capable of than to give him some breathing room? She watched him out of the corner of her eye. The alley slid by in a blur, and she forgot to note their whereabouts. Solaris navigated the turns without trouble. He strode down the alley as if he’d been born in it.

  “Don’t you have a Neural Network Implant?” Rance asked him. “I would think it would be essential for a Galaxy Wizard.”

  “I always wanted one,” Solaris said, stopping to look down a narrow side alley. It looked more like a dark, dusty tunnel than an alley with a lone door at the end. He jerked his head in that direction and turned down it. It was so narrow Rance had to walk behind him. She didn’t like that one bit. If they were ambushed, they wouldn’t have much room to maneuver.

  “And so?” she prompted.

  “Magic interferes with them. It’s pointless.”

  “You assured me it wasn’t magic.”

  “Did I? I must have been trying to impress you.”

  Before Rance could ask him what he meant by that, a door opened in front of them and—at the same time—boots hit the ground behind. She turned, grabbing the back of Solaris’ flight suit to signal him. He halted.

  An armed man stood at the end of the alley clad in light armor and a closed helmet. He would have looked like light infantry if not for the absence of insignia on his armor. He didn’t leave the entrance though. Rance assumed he was there to make sure they didn’t leave unless he wanted them to.

  That didn’t make her feel any better.

 

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