Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars)

by R. Curtis Venture

  There were eight doorways like it, locked from the inside and arranged at intervals around the inner core of the building. He had no idea which one would be used, so he had just picked one at random. It had as much chance as any of the others at being the correct door.

  He heard a soft scraping noise, very faint, coming from somewhere off to his left. A door opening. Quiet footsteps. Someone shushing someone else, far too loudly.

  Castigon drew his pistol, and sneaked down the corridor towards the corner.

  “Now what?” Came a tired voice. “We’re still in the city.”

  “Yes, but nobody will be looking for you here, Sir.”

  It was her. The second voice. That doubtless meant her counterpart would be nearby.

  Castigon rounded the corner.

  Tarrow saw him first, and froze up for a second. She came to her senses, grabbed her gun, and realised before she could even raise it that he had her in his sights already.

  “Put it down, Jidian,” said Castigon. “Put it down, or I kill them both.”

  The counterpart and the other man — he looked like a proconsul — both spun around at the sound of Castigon’s voice. The counterpart raised her gun too. The proconsul took a step backwards to make sure the two women were between him and the bit the bullets came out of.

  “Tell her,” said Castigon.

  “Miall,” Tarrow said quietly. “Back off.”

  “Jid, no,” said the counterpart.

  “He’ll kill you. Believe me; he will kill you.”

  “You know this man?” The proconsul said.

  “Oh, she knows me all right,” said Castigon. “We go way back, don’t we ‘Jid’?”

  Tarrow stayed silent.

  “You know, out of all of them, I really thought you would be the one who came through for me.”

  “Maber…” she said.

  “After all I did for you, you went and sold me out.”

  “That’s not true. I didn’t say what they wanted me to say, Maber. I’m… happy to see you again.”

  “Happy?”

  “Yes, truly.”

  “You do know I’ve killed half your old friends, right?”

  “I had heard… I knew you’d find me eventually.”

  “Don’t make me laugh; you were going for your gun just then.”

  “You startled me. There’s an uprising going on out there.”

  “Yeah, well don’t expect me to believe for one minute that you want to skip off into the sunset with me. ‘Happy’, what a crock of shit.”

  “Jid, please,” said the counterpart. “My job means getting between you and—“

  “Shut her up.”

  “Miall, it’s okay. We’re… old friends.”

  “Old friends,” Castigon said. “But friends have each other’s backs, right Jid? Didn’t have my back, did you?”

  The counterpart shifted her stance, and Castigon trained his weapon on her instead of the Shard.

  Tarrow looked sad. “I never wanted them to send you away,” she said. “If I could have stopped them, I would have done.”

  “Really. Tell me what you would have said.”

  Tarrow opened her mouth to reply.

  “In fact don’t. You’ve already had far more time than any of the others.”

  He shot her in the chest.

  The counterpart screamed, dropped her weapon, and tried to catch Tarrow as she fell.

  Tarrow landed on her back, the counterpart’s hands under her shoulders, and her head hit the ground.

  “Oh my worlds,” said the proconsul. “Oh, oh no!”

  “Jid, Jid, don’t you fucking leave me.”

  Castigon started to step backwards.

  “Jid, please,” the counterpart said.

  Castigon reached the corner.

  “Stop where you are, Sir,” the proconsul shouted. There was a note of authority in his voice that took Castigon by surprise.

  The counterpart’s head jerked up, her eyes narrowed, and she leapt to her feet.

  “You!”

  Somehow, she was inside Castigon’s firing arc before he could react. She was much faster than he had expected, and — as he discovered when she struck him square in the chest with the heel of her palm — much stronger.

  He stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell to the ground.

  The counterpart was on him immediately, straddling his abdomen, punching him in the face. First one fist, then the other.

  Castigon reeled under the blows. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he remembered he was still holding a pistol.

  “Fuck… off,” he said, and shot her up through the ribs.

  The counterpart slumped to one side, and he pushed her over farther until she toppled off him and landed on the floor.

  “Worlds…” said the proconsul.

  Castigon was already on his feet, and his gun flew up at the sound of the other man’s voice. He looked through the sights at the trembling proconsul.

  “Don’t…”

  “I’m not going to kill you,” said Castigon. “No reason to. Besides, you’ve got enough problems. The natives are fucking restless.”

  • • •

  “Occre Brant,” said Caden. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Brant smiled into the holo. He had never thought he would hear a Shard of the Empress saying it was a pleasure to see him.

  “I have a sort of confession to make,” he said.

  “You didn’t let Tirrano have her wicked way with you?”

  “No,” he laughed. “Nothing that bad.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “That doctor you wanted extracting from the Meccrace system; Danil Bel-Ures.”

  “What about her?”

  “I kind of… didn’t get around to it yet.”

  “Brant, I asked you to do that ages ago.”

  “I know, but Naeb escaped, then Fort Kosling blew up, and I kind of got side-tracked with all that.”

  “Right. Well you’d better get on with it then, pretty damned sharpish.”

  “Oh, there’s more.”

  “Why do I have a sinking feeling?”

  “We — that is, Tirrano and I — we suspect Gordl Branathes might be a Rasa.”

  “Branathes… as in, your boss Branathes?”

  “Yes. He’s been acting strangely, and he vanished earlier today. We think he might be going after Doctor Bel-Ures.”

  “I’d really like to act on that, but I’m under orders. I have an assass— I have a meeting to arrange. A really important meeting.”

  “Two men enter, one man leaves? That kind of meeting?”

  Caden shrugged ruefully. “My job is rarely glamorous, Brant. Can you not just task this out to Eyes and Ears in the Meccrace system? That was the original plan.”

  “There’s a question mark over who can be trusted,” Brant said. “We don’t know how many Rasas exist, or where they are.”

  “You have a point there,” said Caden. “I have it on good authority that there are lots of them. Everywhere.”

  Brant’s whole body flushed cold.

  “You… you’re sure?”

  “I found that Morlum guy on Woe Tantalum,” Caden said. “He was messed up, but I believe him. The Rasas are watching us.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I sort of suspected there had to be more of them, but never—“

  “Listen, it’s too far above your pay grade for you to be dying of worry. You let me wring my hands over the implications, yes?”

  “I guess.”

  “Now concentrate on Bel-Ures. Consider her a vital asset in a war we are already losing.”

  “A war…”

  Brant was confused for a moment, not making the connection between the doctor and the fight against the Viskr. Unless…

  “You mean, war against the Rasas? Not the Viskr?”

  “Of course. Their war against us. The confrontation with the Viskr is probably all down to a ruse. Someone manoeuvred us i
nto that conflict, and it’s time it ended.”

  “Rasas did all that?”

  “I doubt it was them alone. I think they’re like drones, or… no, like tools. Pretty soon I’ll figure out what kind of tools they are, what their job is. And when you know what a tool is for, you can make a good guess at who might be using it.”

  “I had no idea,” Brant murmured.

  “Nobody did,” said Caden. “That’s their strength. Unfortunately, our glorious leaders have still got their heads in the sand.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “As I said, I’m on mission. I can’t do anything about Bel-Ures in person until that’s finished with. But there might be something you can do to speed things up.”

  “Anything. You just let me know.”

  “I’m looking for someone. There’s been a series of murders, and I need to track the person responsible.”

  “Just tell me what you need to know.”

  Caden glanced down suddenly, peering at the lower segment of his holo’s display.

  “Hold on,” he said. “I’m getting another call. And I’m not sure I believe what I’m seeing.”

  • • •

  “That wasn’t quick at all,” said Captain Borreto, eyeing Castigon disapprovingly.

  “Unexpected complications,” Castigon replied.

  “Yeah, I can see that by the state of your face.”

  Castigon wiped blood from where it had trickled out of his nose. Borreto could see there was still a smear left behind, but he said nothing.

  “We good to lift off?”

  “Yes, ‘we’ are. Port authority granted us clearance already; we were just waiting for you.”

  “I’m touched.”

  “Don’t be,” said Borreto. “I just want to get paid.”

  “Ever the opportunist. Well there’s still more money to be made in this adventure, if you’re interested.”

  “Just tell me where you want to go.”

  “Altakanti Station,” said Castigon.

  “That’s a military installation.”

  “Don’t worry about it. They tend to look far, not close.”

  “Still, I’m really not happy about getting up close and personal with an Imperial listening post.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “What assurances do I get?”

  “Let’s just say I really know what I’m doing. It won’t be the first time I’ve flown so literally under the radar.”

  “You’re the customer,” Borreto said.

  “I am. Now please, get me off this fucking planet.”

  “After you.”

  Borreto allowed Castigon to pass him on the ramp, and watched as he walked into the cargo hold.

  You are going to cause me a lot of trouble, he thought. I can feel it coming.

  Not for the first time since taking this passenger aboard, he wondered if the trouble would be worthwhile.

  — 13 —

  The List

  Everything swam in a hot sea, a sea that flowed around Throam, enveloped his senses, permeated his body. He felt more alive now than he had on the surface of Mibes, stronger than he had been when he dragged a giant Tanker across the ground. He was a burning pillar, his own will manifested.

  Metal crashed heavily on metal, echoing loudly around the gym compartment. He saw the other people looking at him, exchanging glances, and simply did not care.

  Otkellsson had been right.

  Throam had never moved so much mass so many times. Never. He felt as though nothing in the worlds could stop him.

  He dropped the weights, stood up, and grunted. Standing with his feet apart, he balled his fists in front of his hips, and tensed his arms and chest.

  “YES!” He shouted.

  More of the other gym users looked up from their own routines, but none said a word.

  He paced back and forth, watching himself in the deck-to-overhead mirrors. Steam curled from his skin in thin sheets.

  The greatest session he had ever had, he owed to White Thunder. Why he had never tried it before he had no idea. None whatsoever.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Something in his head told him he had been there long enough. After so many thousands of hours in the gym it was a difficult habit to ignore, even with chemical assistance.

  He grabbed his things and headed for the hatch, thinking of Euryce Eilentes and the spectacular stunt she had pulled off, just like Caden had sarcastically told her to.

  His body felt solid around him, hard, and it moved as if it still had massive stores of energy which it needed to release.

  He thought of Eilentes sat astride the Gorilla, and became harder still.

  “YES!”

  • • •

  Eilentes had managed to delay her return for hours now. She had accompanied Norskine to sickbay while the private got herself checked over, tolerating the overly sterile compartment and a corpsman with a serious personality deficit just to kill some time. She had been to the range and punished forty targets. She had even spent an hour pushing dismal navy food around her bowl in the galley.

  In short, she had run out of things to do.

  She stood in the passageway, resting her forehead on the outside of the hatch. Technically, they were her quarters. Just like the old days; he was crashing in her bunk.

  She bashed her head on the metal, gently but firmly.

  “Works better if you open it.” Throam’s loud voice came from the other side of the bulkhead.

  She opened the hatch.

  “What took you so long?” He asked.

  I don’t want to have the next conversation, she thought.

  He seemed not to notice her silence. “Got bored waiting, so I’ve been to the gym already,” he said. “And hoo-boy, am I horny now.”

  He was only wearing pants and socks.

  “That was some awesome shit you pulled on Mibes, Euryce. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

  He was closer now. Much closer.

  “It made me so hot.”

  He put his hand around the back of her head, and moved in to kiss her on the mouth. She ducked away and turned her head to the side, so he kissed her on the neck instead.

  “Ren—“

  “Ride me like you rode that Gorilla.”

  “For fuck’s sake…”

  She pushed at his shoulders, but couldn’t move him. She never could. He backed her up against the wall. He smelled of sweat and heat and lust.

  “Come on, Euryce. Let’s go wild.”

  “Ren, stop it. I’m really not in the mood for this.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You’re always in the mood for Throam.”

  “Not right now I’m not.”

  “Yes you are.”

  She looked at his face, at his eyes. They were wide yet glazed. He was breathing through his mouth. She could feel his blood pumping beneath her hands.

  “What have you taken?”

  “Just the usual.”

  “Like fuck is it the usual, Ren. Tell me.”

  “Afterwards.”

  “No, not ‘afterwards’, I’m outta—“

  The next thing she knew, she was flying towards the bunk, and he was flying with her. She had never suspected either of them could fly. He landed across her, and the wind was knocked out of her in a heavy instant.

  “Ren…” she coughed.

  He had her wrists in his hands, and kissed her neck again. She felt the sharpness of his stubble scraping her skin.

  “So fucking hot.”

  He sat up on his knees, straddling her hips, and grabbed the waistband of her trousers.

  “No,” she said, and reached to one side.

  She had her combat knife out of the sheath on her thigh before she knew what she was doing. Even on a testosterone and adrenaline and who-knew-what-else high, he recognised the danger.

  “Get. The fuck. Off.”

  He tipped himself off her, and crouched on the bunk; a patient animal.

  Eilente
s rolled off the edge, hooked her kit bag from the floor on her way to the hatch, and stepped out into the passageway.

  She didn’t look back.

  • • •

  Caden was surprised to see the resentful face that stared back at him from the holo, a face that was waiting patiently for him to make the proper response to the offered greeting.

  “Joarn Kages? This is not a call I was expecting. Have you missed me?”

  “I truly doubt, Sir, that you can fathom precisely how difficult it was for me to bring myself to contact you.”

  “Clearly it was not quite difficult enough,” Caden said.

  “How very droll,” Kages replied. “Were it not for doors being slammed in my face everywhere else I turn, I would have been quite happy never talking to you again.”

  “That would have suited me just fine. Are you going to get around to telling me what this is about?”

  “Absolutely. But first, I would like you to know that I deeply resented being defenestrated by that big brute of yours. That was not in the least bit sporting, and I am still in considerable pain.”

  “Consider it a reminder that sharing is not always the right thing to do.”

  “I shall certainly remember that lesson in future, but I think you will find it is not always true. Are you aware of the current state of affairs on Aldava?”

  “Not specifically. After we left you, I found the population of Barrabas Fled to be a bit peculiar. I was told that was being looked in to.”

  “Were you, were you really? And by ‘looked in to’, you mean what exactly?”

  “I didn’t ask. I’ve had no involvement at all; my business lay elsewhere.”

  “Didn’t ask, you say. Would you like to know what ‘looked in to’ apparently means? Would you like me to share that with you?”

  “Go on. Clearly you’re going to anyway.”

  “It apparently means — and I find it extraordinary that you would claim total ignorance of this kind of treachery — that no ship may leave Aldava. It means that a quarantine network is being constructed in orbit, and that the communication links between the world and the network at large are being iteratively blocked.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “The entire planet is being quarantined, Shard Caden. Isolated. Cut off from the galaxy. It’s only because of my contacts and knowledge of gate relay protocols that I was able to open this channel.”