Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3)

by G. P. Hudson

“No, I knew you’d be ok.”

  “I was not worried either,” said grandfather.

  Jon frowned, “There’s a surprise.

  “See,” said Anki. “Both me and Grandfather knew you’d come back.”

  “Well I’m glad you and your grandfather have so much confidence in me,” said Jon.

  Chapter 32

  Jon and Kevin walked into the Chaanisar conference room. Already seated at the long table were Colonel Bast, Lieutenant Jarvi, Doctor Ellerbeck, and Prime Minister Sallas. He and Kevin took chairs at the end of the table. Colonel Bast nodded at them and began the meeting.

  “Now that we are back on board and settled, it is time to discuss next steps. We have jumped safely away from New Byzantium-”

  “I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?” Sallas asked.

  If Bast was annoyed by the interruption, he didn’t show it. “I mean that we are no longer in orbit around New Byzantium. Nor are we in the same star system.”

  “But I need to get back down to the planet,” protested Sallas.

  “I understand that, Prime Minister. Unfortunately, in the process of rescuing you and Doctor Ellerbeck our ship sustained considerable damage, and we need to safely conduct repairs. We cannot do so in orbit around your world where we will continuously be under attack.”

  Sallas sat back into his chair, looking dejected, but choosing not to pursue the matter.

  “We have several important matters to discuss. Doctor Ellerbeck, you are aware of our situation and our desire to remove our brain chips?”

  “Yes,” said Ellerbeck.

  “Do you believe you can successfully complete the procedure?”

  “The surgery is not without risks, Colonel. I have removed the chips before, but never on a live patient. I do not know how your brain will react. You have had these implants since you were children. There’s no telling how reliant your physiology has become to the technology. Removing it could cause serious side effects.”

  “We are not concerned with the side effects,” said Bast.

  “You should be. There is a very real possibility of brain damage,” said Ellerbeck.

  “Doctor Ellerbeck,” said Jarvi. “Anything is preferable to being a Juttari slave. Even brain damage, although I would prefer death.”

  “As would I,” said Bast. “I’m sure every Chaanisar on board this ship would feel the same. Now, suppose the procedure is a success. How long would it take to recover?”

  “Again, it is difficult to say,” said Ellerbeck. “We are talking about brain surgery. Even with the help of biobots, I can’t see recovery being any less than a week, maybe two.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Sallas, urgently. “But we don’t have that kind of time. We need to get back to New Byzantium and help General Calledonius.”

  “What do you mean when you say ‘we’ need to get back and help?” asked Bast.

  “I need to get back to the planet,” said Sallas, correcting himself. “And I do have a proposition to make.”

  “Proceed,” said Bast.

  “My people have worked for generations to bring democracy to New Byzantium.”

  “Hang on a second,” said Jon. “I thought you said that you brought democracy to New Byzantium.”

  “That is correct. Due to my position, I was able to push through the change. However, there has been a pro-democracy movement on New Byzantium for a long time. Every planet in the colonies has a pro-democracy movement. It has been a long struggle, with many setbacks, but when we finally succeeded, New Byzantium became the first planet in the colonies to establish a democratic government. As you saw, there are many who would like to see us fail, and they’re prepared to take drastic action to see that happen.”

  “I understand your situation,” said Bast. “But we are not from your planet. Nor are we from these colonies. Why should we pick sides in what is essentially a civil war?”

  Sallas took a deep breath. “You should pick sides, Colonel. We are on the side of freedom. We are the one faint light of hope in this corner of the galaxy. If Sol had not fallen to the Juttari all those years ago, we would have had representation. Eventually we could have gained independence from Sol itself. We would have never have had to endure the absurdity of corporate rule.”

  “Forgive me, Prime Minister, but I still don’t see why the Chaanisar should fight for you,” said Bast.

  “Because you won’t be fighting for me, or my planet. You see, I understand you better than you know. You are all Ronin.”

  “Ronin?” asked Bast.

  Sallas smiled. “A term from Earth’s history, from Japan’s feudal period. During this time Japan had a thriving warrior culture. These men were expert swordsman called samurai. They devoted their lives to training in the various arts of war. They also spent their lives in the service of a lord. This lord was their master until the day they died. Sometimes, for various reasons, a samurai found himself without a lord. He became known as a Ronin, which is simply a masterless samurai. Many samurai considered the title a disgrace. They wanted to serve a master. There were some, however, who sought freedom. These rare samurai chose which causes they would commit themselves to. They chose the battles in which they would fight. Musashi, for example, the greatest samurai in history, was himself a Ronin.”

  Sallas looked at Bast and Jarvi. “You still call yourselves Chaanisar, yet that is a title bestowed on you by your previous masters, the Juttari. You are not Chaanisar. You serve no master.”

  Sallas looked over to Jon, “And you, Captain Pike? You no longer take orders from Space Force, do you?”

  Jon glanced at Ellerbeck and said, “It sounds like the good doctor have been doing a lot of talking.”

  “She has explained a lot to me. I know what happened on the Hermes. I also know that you believe in freedom. I’m not asking any of you to fight for me. I don’t want to be your master. I am asking you to choose this cause. I am asking you to fight for freedom.”

  “And what of our freedom?” said Bast. He pointed to his head and said, “Every minute these chips remain in our brains puts us at risk of becoming Juttari slaves again.”

  “I understand. Believe me, I do. It is just that my planet is running out of time. We need help now. We cannot wait two weeks. If we do, all may very well be lost.”

  Ronin. Jon had never heard the word before, but he had to admit, it did fit. He could sympathize with Sallas’s cause. He hated the likes of General Juneau. Not only did he remind him of the Governors back on Earth, but also of some in Space Force. Admiral Walsh came to mind. He served the Diakans first, before their own people.

  “I’ll help,” said Jon, surprising himself. “You’re right,” he said to Sallas. “I prefer to choose what causes I fight for. I can’t think of a better cause than freedom.”

  “Thank you,” said Sallas.

  Jon looked over to Bast and said, “Drop us off at the planet. You can then go and have your procedure.”

  Bast didn’t respond, but Jon noticed his left eye twitch. Jarvi’s eye twitched in reply. He wondered how much they would miss their brain chips when they were gone.

  The eyes steadied and Bast turned to Sallas. “You are correct, Mr. Sallas. We should no longer consider ourselves Chaanisar.” He paused, as if to collect his thoughts. “You must understand that we have been programmed since childhood. In some ways we are more machine than human. We want to find our humanity again, yet we know how different we have become.” He looked over at Jon. “We are no longer the machines who killed those you loved. Yet we are not the children who once called Earth home. We can never return.” He turned to Sallas again and said, “We have been so determined to remove our brain chips that we have not fully considered what we would become without them. We will never be accepted back at Sol. I know that. But we do need a purpose. Perhaps you have given us one. Perhaps we are Ronin.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Sallas. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

  “Yes, Mr. Sallas. We will help.”<
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  Chapter 33

  “I’m fighting alongside you,” Breeah said defiantly.

  “No, you’re not,” said Jon, wondering why he hadn’t anticipated this response.

  “You do not command me, Jon Pike. If I say I am fighting then I am fighting.”

  He knew she wouldn’t back down once she dug her heels in. “What about Anki?” he said, trying to appeal to her maternal instincts.

  Breeah gestured to her father, who sat quietly observing them. “My father can take care of her while I am gone.”

  “I will not,” Jonas said with a booming voice.

  “Why not?” said Breeah, perplexed by his response.

  “Because, I am fighting as well.”

  This just kept getting worse. “What are you talking about?” asked Jon.

  “I am a Reiver,” said Jonas. “I do not idly sit by while others fight. If my daughter is fighting then I am fighting. Your friend Darla can watch Anki. She is a good woman from what I have seen.”

  “With all due respect, father, you are not a young man anymore,” said Breeah.

  Jonas rose from his seat, anger flashing in his eyes. “Nonsense. I can still fight just as well as any man. The rest of the Reivers will follow me into battle. They are all excellent fighters and from the sound of things you need all the help you can get.”

  “Now all the Reivers are fighting?” Jon said in exasperation.

  “Not all of them. Some will need to stay behind and tend to the children,” said Jonas.

  “This is absurd. You’ve all lost your minds,” said Jon.

  “No, it is a sound idea,” said Breeah. “My father is right. Our people need this. Ever since the Kemmar prison they’ve sat around this ship while you and the Chaanisar have gone into battle after battle. Reivers are warriors. They need to fight. I’m sure the ship’s fabricator can create the necessary armaments to equip them.”

  He felt the symbiont’s agreement. “Who cares what you think,” Jon said.

  “Excuse me?!” said Breeah, stepping toward Jon.

  “No, no, I didn’t mean you. I was talking to my symbiont.”

  She nodded, but her eyes showed she didn’t quite believe him.

  “You are a strange man, Jon Pike,” said Jonas.

  “Yeah? Go look in the mirror.”

  “What did you say?” bellowed Jonas.

  “Shit,” said Jon. “You know what? I’m going to go.”

  “I think you had better,” said Breeah.

  He knew when it was time for a retreat and left the room. He walked through the ship, studying the Chaanisar crewmembers he passed. Sallas had said that these were not Chaanisar anymore. Was he right? Jon’s hatred for the Chaanisar had been absolute. He could not accept these people because of that hatred, even though he had fought alongside them. Even with all the proof that they had changed, he hadn’t. The past imprisoned him. He could never forgive. But, what if Sallas was right? What if they weren’t Chaanisar anymore? Could he see them as something else? Something new? Were they still Chaanisar if the Juttari didn’t control them anymore?

  He thought about the past and realized that the Chaanisar were just as imprisoned by theirs. Yet they were trying to free themselves of it. Why wasn’t he? What did the past do for him, that he clung to it so tenaciously? Nothing. Not anymore. For most of his life the past had given him purpose. It filled him with anger and hatred, and a burning desire for revenge. But what good did it do him now? He couldn’t kill them all. Even if he could, none of it would bring his family back. He couldn’t hold his daughters, or watch them grow up. He would never kiss his wife again. Never seek out his mother’s wisdom. Sorrow filled him as their faces flashed in his mind. For years anger had held back the grief. The quest for vengeance prevented the sadness from crushing him. There had been no other reason to continue living. Now there was.

  He suddenly realized that he had unwittingly made his way to the bridge. He approached the doors, which were covered with incomprehensible Juttari symbols. Symbols of the past, he thought. A past that had enslaved both him and the Chaanisar. If he were to truly fight for freedom, he needed to free himself. Out here, amid the lost colonies, these symbols were meaningless.

  He stepped forward and the doors slid open. He strode onto the busy bridge and looked around at everyone. Not Chaanisar. People. Colonel Bast stood in his usual spot, with a clear view of all the activity. Kevin stood beside him, saying something to the Colonel. Jon stepped up to the two men and stood on the other side of Bast.

  “Gentlemen,” Jon said.

  “Captain,” Bast and Kevin said, almost in unison.

  “How are the repairs?” Jon asked.

  “We should be battle ready in a few days,” said Bast.

  “Good. Speaking of battle, the Reivers want to fight.”

  Bast and Kevin both looked surprised.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Jon added.

  “You do?” said Bast.

  “Yes. It’s about time we all learned to act as one crew, rather than three.”

  The surprise seemed to give way to shock. Even Jon questioned whether the words actually came out of his mouth.

  “You do?” said Bast, concern spreading across his normally stoic face.

  “I do. Is the fabricator still online?”

  “Yes.”

  “We can then arm the Reivers. Kevin, do you think you and Sergeant Henderson can give them some training over the next few days?”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Kevin. “They all seem experienced. It should be easy enough.”

  Jon nodded as he scanned the Chaanisar Bridge. “There’s one more thing, Colonel.”

  “What is that, Captain?”

  “We need to rename this goddamn ship.”

  “We need to what?”

  “Does this ship still serve the Juttari Empire?”

  “No.”

  “Then why does it still carry its Juttari designation?”

  “I… I don’t know. I hadn’t considered it. Do you have something in mind?”

  “I do. I suggest we call it The Ronin.”

  Kevin smiled. “I like it,” he said.

  Bast nodded, and Jon could see that he was beginning to understand.

  “We are all Ronin now,” Jon said.

  Chapter 34

  The open combat suit standing in front of Breeah seemed gigantic, compared to her small stature. How could she ever hope to control such a monstrosity? It must weigh close to a ton, she thought. She had never worn a combat suit before. It wasn’t something the Reivers ever had access to. Even when they raided Kemmar space, they never challenged a Kemmar warship. They had always preyed on commercial freighter traffic, and as such had never encountered military combat suits. This was a first not just for her, but for all of the Reivers.

  They stood there now, facing a long line of metallic monsters. Her father stood next to her. He remained his usual quiet self, but she could feel his excitement. He seemed like a little boy who just received a coveted toy.

  She wondered how the thing worked. It stood on a platform, rigid and upright, which seemed odd, as there was nothing to hold it up. It didn’t make a sound, but she could tell that it generated power. A vaguely imperceptible ambient energy radiated outward from the suit. She wondered what would happen to her if the power supply stopped working. Would she be crushed under its hulking frame?

  “Step into your suit’s boots,” said Sergeant Henderson. “Your suit will customize itself to your body’s size.”

  This is it, she thought, and stepped up to the platform, along with the rest. Breeah placed one foot into a disproportionately large boot, and then the other. She placed her arms in their designated positions and straightened her back. The suit reacted instantly. The heavy looking metal suddenly and inexplicably became flexible and began to conform to her body. The metal moved and twisted to encircle her, encapsulating her legs, torso, and arms. When her body was entirely surrounded, the armor reached up and over her
head, and stretched down in front of her face. Panic briefly took hold as the metal covered her nose, then mouth, as she imagined suffocation. The sensation went away when she realized that she could open her mouth and breathe.

  At first she had been immersed in total darkness. It took a split second for the helmet to adjust and give her a clear view of her surroundings. Her view was augmented further as her HUD came to life, providing her with detailed information on everything in the room. She tried to turn her head, and it moved easily, as though it was bare. She looked at the combat suit beside her and her HUD displayed her father’s name. She turned back to the front of the room, looked over at the two combat suits facing them at the front and Sergeant Henderson’s and Chief St. Clair’s names appeared.

  Sergeant Henderson’s voice came through her suit’s communication system. “Your combat suit will bestow you with superior speed and strength. For this reason it is important to move carefully, until you become more comfortable. Now, slowly step off your platforms.”

  Breeah gingerly raised her leg and stepped forward. It felt natural. The suit moved as if it and her body were one and the same. All the rest of the Reivers stepped out without difficulty too.

  “Carefully turn and face my direction,” said Henderson.

  She turned without issue, as did everyone else. So far so good. This was starting to feel easy.

  “When I give the command, you are all going to walk forward in single file through those doors and into the training room, where we’ll go over some more advanced techniques. Understood?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison. She wondered if he expected them to address him as ‘Sir’, like the Marines did. She doubted it was expected, nor did it feel natural. He was here to train them, not give them orders, which was probably why Henderson didn’t bark at them in the way he might with new recruits.

  “Begin,” said Henderson.

  She waited for the line in front of her to begin moving and followed. She stepped forward carefully, at first, still afraid she lacked control. Then, when she managed to avoid crashing into her father in front of her, she began to relax and move more naturally. It all felt remarkably effortless, like the suit wasn’t even there. She walked through the doors and into a large room. Jon stood in a corner watching. Could he tell which one she was? They lined up in the middle of the room facing Henderson and St. Clair.