Renegade Fleet

by J. N. Chaney

  I stared at the spark, my mouth agape. “What…the fuck?” I asked. It was all I could manage to say.

  “Apologies,” said the spark. “Please wait. I’ve never done this before. It could take a moment.”

  I had no idea what this thing was talking about, but I also didn’t know what to ask it. Was this another threat? Were we about to be invaded by tiny sparks of light? Was I still dreaming?

  The light flickered again, only this time, it seemed to double in size. “Ah,” said the spark. “I believe I have it now.”

  “Have it?” I asked.

  The spark repeated the action, and doubled in size again. It did this several times, growing little by little, but doing it quickly.

  I took a few steps back.

  Before I knew it, there was a massive light before me, nearly six feet tall. It glowed with bright intensity, pulsating like a kind of star.

  I reached out with my hand, trying to see if there was any heat, but found nothing. “What is this?” I asked. “Who are you?”

  The light flickered, almost vibrating together, and it began to change. I couldn’t see it at first, not for a few seconds, but there was a shape forming. Something with detail in it that resembled a figure. A man, maybe.

  Yes, a man, because he had eyes and a nose and a mouth, and there was hair on his head, too, and clothes beneath that.

  The transformation settled in mere moments, revealing an older man in his mid-fifties or early sixties, dressed in fine clothes, with a handsome, almost regal face. His eyes were gold and his skin light brown. And while I couldn’t say how, this man looked familiar.

  “Greetings, Jace Hughes,” said the stranger.

  I stared at him for what must have been ten seconds before I said a word. When I did, it took everything in me not to freak the hell out. “What the fuck did I just see?” I finally asked.

  “I apologize,” he told me, a kind smile on him. “This is the first time I have ever attempted to use the emitters. Truth be told, I never even thought to do it before now.”

  “Emitters?” I asked. “You mean the ones Athena uses? Wait a second, are you another Cognitive?”

  He nodded. “Indeed, I am.’’

  “Which one?” I asked, trying to think of all the Cognitives I knew about. “You’re not the one Hephaestus consumed, are you?”

  “I’m afraid not. In truth, I am unlike any Cognitive you have ever met.” He paused. “Though, we have met.”

  His voice was so familiar to me. The way he talked. The tone and language. “We know each other?” I finally asked.

  He nodded. “Indeed, we do, sir.”

  My eyes widened at the sound of the last word, and I instinctively took a step back. “No way,” I said. “You can’t be him. That doesn’t make any—"

  The man reached out a hand, offering it to me. “My name is Sigmond,” the Cognitive finally told me. “But you, Jace Hughes from Epsy, you may call me Siggy.”

  Author Notes

  What a month! I’m so happy to finally release this latest Renegade book. I know it took a little longer than expected, but life just got in the way a bit more than usual. If you’re in the Facebook group, you already knew that, but for everyone else, I apologize for the delay. That being said, let’s talk about this book!

  I really enjoyed writing Renegade Fleet. It kept me up late into the night, because I was too consumed by the story to stop writing it, especially the final chapters. Boy, what a ride! I don’t think I’ve ever written so much action before in one book.

  Speaking of which, I hope you enjoyed the new enemies and the obstacles our heroes had to face. I wanted to switch things up in this book and focus on something totally different, while also advancing the responsibilities of the team and building on the foundation of the previous books. Our characters are growing, with each one finding their place in this newly expanding fleet. The people of Titan are slowly becoming their own community, and that was something I wanted to emphasize in this. At the same time, we got to see Sigmond grow, which was long overdue. That A.I. has been here since the beginning, and now he’s finally his own man. Well, in a manner of speaking, anyway.

  Our next book will be titled, Renegade Earth, and I’m sure you can guess what the focus will be. Some readers have been asking what comes next, once Renegade Earth is done. Will the series continue? Will there be more adventures? The short answer is yes, once the current story arc closes, another will begin. The long answer would be filled with spoilers, so I’m keeping that to myself until we get there. In the meantime, I hope you look forward to Jace and Abigail’s next adventure. I know I will be.

  Until next time, keep sailing, Renegades,

  J.N. Chaney

  PS. Amazon won’t tell you when the next Renegade book will come out, but there are several ways you can stay informed.

  1) Fly on over to the Facebook group, JN Chaney’s Renegade Readers, and say hello. It’s a great place to hang with other sarcastic sci-fi readers who don’t mind a good laugh.

  2) Follow me directly on Amazon. To do this, head to the store page for this book (or my Amazon author profile) and click the Follow button beneath my picture. That will prompt Amazon to notify you when I release a new book. You’ll just need to check your emails.

  3) You can join my mailing list by clicking here. This will allow me to stay in touch with you directly, and you’ll also receive a free copy of The Amber Project.

  Doing one of these or all three (for best results) will ensure you know every time a new entry in the Renegade Star series is published. Please take a moment to do one of these so you’ll be able to join Jace, Abigail, and Lex on their next galaxy-spanning adventure.

  Preview: The Amber Project

  Documents of Historical, Scientific, and Cultural Significance

  Play Audio Transmission File 021

  Recorded April 19, 2157

  CARTWRIGHT: This is Lieutenant Colonel Felix Cartwright. It’s been a week since my last transmission and two months since the day we found the city…the day the world fell apart. If anyone can hear this, please respond.

  If you’re out there, no doubt you know about the gas. You might think you’re all that’s left. But if you’re receiving this, let me assure you, you are not alone. There are people here. Hundreds, in fact, and for now, we’re safe. If you can make it here, you will be, too.

  The city’s a few miles underground, not far from El Rico Air Force Base. That’s where my people came from. As always, the coordinates are attached. If anyone gets this, please respond. Let us know you’re there…that you’re still alive.

  End Audio File

  April 14, 2339

  Maternity District

  MILES BELOW THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH, deep within the walls of the last human city, a little boy named Terry played quietly with his sister in a small two-bedroom apartment.

  Today was his very first birthday. He was turning seven.

  “What’s a birthday?” his sister Janice asked, tugging at his shirt. She was only four years old and had recently taken to following her big brother everywhere he went. “What does it mean?”

  Terry smiled, eager to explain. “Mom says when you turn seven, you get a birthday. It means you grow up and get to start school. It’s a pretty big deal.”

  “When will I get a birthday?”

  “You’re only four, so you have to wait.”

  “I wish I was seven,” she said softly, her thin black hair hanging over her eyes. “I want to go with you.”

  He got to his feet and began putting the toy blocks away. They had built a castle together on the floor, but Mother would yell if they left a mess. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I promise, okay?”

  “Okay!” she said cheerily and proceeded to help.

  Right at that moment, the speaker next to the door let out a soft chime, followed by their mother’s voice. “Downstairs, children,” she said. “Hurry up now.”

  Terry took his sister’s hand.
“Come on, Jan,” he said.

  She frowned, squeezing his fingers. “Okay.”

  They arrived downstairs, their mother nowhere to be found.

  “She’s in the kitchen,” Janice said, pointing at the farthest wall. “See the light-box?”

  Terry looked at the locator board, although his sister’s name for it worked just as well. It was a map of the entire apartment, with small lights going on and off in different colors depending on which person was in which room. There’s us, he thought, green for me and blue for Janice, and there’s Mother in red. Terry never understood why they needed something like that because of how small the apartment was, but every family got one, or so Mother had said.

  As he entered the kitchen, his mother stood at the far counter sorting through some data on her pad. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Something for work,” she said. She tapped the front of the pad and placed it in her bag. “Come on, Terrance, we’ve got to get you ready and out the door. Today’s your first day, after all, and we have to make a good impression.”

  “When will he be back?” asked Janice.

  “Hurry up. Let’s go, Terrance,” she said, ignoring the question. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. “We have about twenty minutes to get all the way to the education district. Hardly enough time at all.” Her voice was sour. He had noticed it more and more lately, as the weeks went on, ever since a few months ago when that man from the school came to visit. His name was Mr. Huxley, one of the few men who Terry ever had the chance to talk to, and from the way Mother acted—she was so agitated—he must have been important.

  “Terrance,” his mother’s voice pulled him back. “Stop moping and let’s go.”

  Janice ran and hugged him, wrapping her little arms as far around him as she could. “Love you,” she said.

  “Love you, too.”

  “Bye,” she said, shyly.

  He kissed her forehead and walked to the door where his mother stood talking with the babysitter, Ms. Cartwright. “I’ll only be a few hours,” Mother said. “If it takes any longer, I’ll message you.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Mara,” Ms. Cartwright assured her. “You take all the time you need.”

  Mother turned to him. “There you are,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

  As they left the apartment, Mother’s hand tugging him along, Terry tried to imagine what might happen at school today. Would it be like his home lessons? Would he be behind the other children, or was everything new? He enjoyed learning, but there was still a chance the school might be too hard for him. What would he do? Mother had taught him some things, like algebra and English, but who knew how far along the other kids were by now?

  Terry walked quietly down the overcrowded corridors with an empty, troubled head. He hated this part of the district. So many people on the move, brushing against him, like clothes in an overstuffed closet.

  He raised his head, nearly running into a woman and her baby. She had wrapped the child in a green and brown cloth, securing it against her chest. “Excuse me,” he said, but the lady ignored him.

  His mother paused and looked around. “Terrance, what are you doing? I’m over here,” she said, spotting him.

  “Sorry.”

  They waited together for the train, which was running a few minutes behind today.

  “I wish they’d hurry up,” said a nearby lady. She was young, about fifteen years old. “Do you think it’s because of the outbreak?”

  “Of course,” said a much older woman. “Some of the trains are busy carrying contractors to the slums to patch the walls. It slows the others down because now they have to make more stops.”

  “I heard fourteen workers died. Is it true?”

  “You know how the gas is,” she said. “It’s very quick. Thank God for the quarantine barriers.”

  Suddenly, there was a loud smashing sound, followed by three long beeps. It echoed through the platform for a moment, vibrating along the walls until it was gone. Terry flinched, squeezing his mother’s hand.

  “Ouch,” she said. “Terrance, relax.”

  “But the sound,” he said.

  “It’s the contractors over there.” She pointed to the other side of the tracks, far away from them. It took a moment for Terry to spot them, but once he did, it felt obvious. Four of them stood together. Their clothes were orange, with no clear distinction between their shirts and their pants, and on each of their heads was a solid red plastic hat. Three of them were holding tools, huddled against a distant wall. They were reaching inside of it, exchanging tools every once in a while, until eventually the fourth one called them to back away. As they made some room, steam rose from the hole, with a puddle of dark liquid forming at the base. The fourth contractor handled a machine several feet from the others, which had three legs and rose to his chest. He waved the other four to stand near him and pressed the pad on the machine. Together, the contractors watched as the device flashed a series of small bright lights. It only lasted a few seconds. Once it was over, they gathered close to the wall again and resumed their work.

  “What are they doing?” Terry asked.

  His mother looked down at him. “What? Oh, they’re fixing the wall, that’s all.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Probably because there was a shift last night. Remember when the ground shook?”

  Yeah, I remember, he thought. It woke me up. “So they’re fixing it?”

  “Yes, right.” She sighed and looked around. “Where is that damned train?”

  Terry tugged on her hand. “That lady over there said it’s late because of the gas.”

  His mother looked at him. “What did you say?”

  “The lady…the one right there.” He pointed to the younger girl a few feet away. “She said the gas came, so that’s why the trains are slow. It’s because of the slums.” He paused a minute. “No, wait. It’s because they’re going to the slums.”

  His mother stared at the girl, turning back to the tracks and saying nothing.

  “Mother?” he said.

  “Be quiet for a moment, Terrance.”

  Terry wanted to ask her what was wrong, or if he had done anything to upset her, but he knew when to stay silent. So he left it alone like she wanted. Just like a good little boy.

  The sound of the arriving train filled the platform with such horrific noise that it made Terry’s ears hurt. The train, still vibrating as he stepped onboard, felt like it was alive.

  After a short moment, the doors closed. The train was moving.

  Terry didn’t know if the shaking was normal or not. Mother had taken him up to the medical wards on this train once when he was younger, but never again after that. He didn’t remember much about it, except that he liked it. The medical wards were pretty close to where he lived, a few stops before the labs, and several stops before the education district. After that, the train ran through Pepper Plaza, then the food farms and Housing Districts 04 through 07 and finally the outer ring factories and the farms. As Terry stared at the route map on the side of the train wall, memorizing what he could of it, he tried to imagine all the places he could go and the things he might see. What kind of shops did the shopping plaza have, for example, and what was it like to work on the farms? Maybe one day he could go and find out for himself—ride the train all day to see everything there was to see. Boy, wouldn’t that be something?

  “Departure call: 22-10, education district,” erupted the com in its monotone voice. It took only a moment before the train began to slow.

  “That’s us. Come on,” said Mother. She grasped his hand, pulling him through the doors before they were fully opened.

  Almost to the school, Terry thought. He felt warm suddenly. Was he getting nervous? And why now? He’d known about this forever, and it was only hitting him now?

  He kept taking shorter breaths. He wanted to pull away and return home, but Mother’s grasp was tight and firm, and the closer
they got to the only major building in the area, the tighter and firmer it became.

  Now that he was there, now that the time had finally come, a dozen questions ran through Terry’s mind. Would the other kids like him? What if he wasn’t as smart as everyone else? Would they make fun of him? He had no idea what to expect.

  Terry swallowed, the lump in his throat nearly choking him.

  An older man stood at the gate of the school’s entrance. He dressed in an outfit that didn’t resemble any of the clothes in Terry’s district or even on the trains. A gray uniform—the color of the pavement, the walls, and the streets—matched his silver hair to the point where it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. “Ah,” he said. “Mara, I see you’ve brought another student. I was wondering when we’d meet the next one. Glad to see you’re still producing. It’s been, what? Five or six years? Something like that, I think.”

  “Yes, thank you, this is Terrance,” said Mother quickly. “I was told there would be an escort.” She paused, glancing over the man and through the windows. “Where’s Bishop? He assured me he’d be here for this.”

  “The colonel,” he corrected, “is in his office, and the boy is to be taken directly to him as soon as I have registered his arrival.”

  She let out a frustrated sigh. “He was supposed to meet me at the gate for this, himself. I wanted to talk to him about a few things.”

  “What’s wrong?” Terry asked.

  She looked down at him. “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry. You have to go inside now, that’s all.”

  “You’re not coming in?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said the man. “She’s not permitted.”

  “It’s alright,” Mother said, cupping her hand over his cheek. “They’ll take care of you in there.”

  But it’s just school, Terry thought. “I’ll see you tonight, though, right?”

  She bent down and embraced him tightly, more than she had in a long time. He couldn’t help but relax. “I’m sorry, Terrance. Please be careful up there. I know you don’t understand it now, but you will eventually. Everything will be fine.” She rose, releasing his hand for the first time since they left the train. “So that’s it?” Mother said to the man.