by Damon Alan
Renegades
- A Novel by -
Damon Alan
This book is dedicated to all the writers I have learned from. All the writers who have been patient as I've improved my skills. All the readers who have given me a chance.
And to my current critique group, without their diligence I'd be a lesser author.
© Damon Alan 2016. All rights reserved including internal content and cover art. This book may not be reproduced without the express written consent of the copyright holder. Cover art may be used for purposes of a bona fide journalistic nature such as blogging and/or review, but written consent must be obtained for any commercial use.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any persons living or dead is solely coincidental. All events in this book are, sadly, fictional as well.
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Chapter 1 - Mutiny
Chapter 2 - High Council
Chapter 3 - Obstacles to Freedom
Chapter 4 - Low Council
Chapter 5 - Gaia
Chapter 6 - Rebellion
Chapter 7 - Captain's Personal Log
Chapter 8 - Stranded
Chapter 9 - Escape the City
Chapter 10 - Pharmacology
Chapter 11 - The Edge of Safety
Chapter 12 - Ultimatum
Chapter 13 - Merik’s Choice
Chapter 14 - Target
Chapter 15 - Captain's Personal Log
Chapter 16 - Opportunity
Chapter 17 - Western Sunrise
Chapter 18 - Rain of Ash
Chapter 19 - Trust
Chapter 20 - Results
Chapter 21 - Captain's Personal Log
Chapter 22 - Mystery
Chapter 23 - Tickets to Heaven
Chapter 24 - House in the Sky
Chapter 25 - Tactical Monster
Chapter 26 - Shooting Stars
Chapter 27 - A Wicked Web
Chapter 28 - Foundation
Chapter 29 - A Strong Defense
Chapter 30 - Possibilities
Chapter 31 - Vanquished
Chapter 32 - Captain’s Personal Log
Chapter 33 - Lessons
Chapter 34 - The Prize
Chapter 35 - Landfall
Chapter 36 - The New Thing
Chapter 37 - House Call
Chapter 38 - Abandon Ship
Chapter 39 - Captain’s Personal Log
Chapter 40 - Second Chance
Chapter 41 - Alarin’s Fate
Chapter 42 - Eastward
Chapter 43 - Respite
Chapter 44 - Volunteers
Chapter 45 - Evolution
Chapter 46 - Now You See It
Chapter 47 - Reward Reaped
Chapter 48 - Army
Chapter 49 - Mastery
Chapter 50 - Alive
Chapter 51 - Leadership
Chapter 52 - Chivalry is Dead
Chapter 53 - Spite
Chapter 54 - Sacrifice
Chapter 55 - The Prophet
Chapter 56 - Rescue
Chapter 57 - Humility
Chapter 58 - Commitment
Important Concepts:
Chapter 1 - Mutiny
17 MAI 15329
Five conspirators put their plan into action.
Weapon’s Mate First Class Garrette Orson pulled a small chest behind him. Gun Corporal Jace Madsul kept the trailing end steady.
In front of Orson and Jace floated Ensign Balt Andersott a medic. He led as the group approached two guards, protecting the bridge of the Schein. The goal lay on the other side of a thick blast door .
Two other conspirators waited down the gangway, out of sight, both armed with weapons of Orson’s design.
“Restock of the bridge med cabinets,” Andersott said.
“Not on today’s schedule,” the guard stated in response.
“It says right here…” Andersott said as he waved a clipboard at the man. Orson and Jace left the chest floating to move toward the guards.
“Ensign, did you screw up the schedule again?” Orson said as he pulled closer to the guard and the medic.
Andersott’s hand lashed out, stabbing the unsuspecting guard in the neck. The pressurized hypo hissed as sedative entered the victim.
The other guard turned to hit the alarm button beside the bridge door and drew his stun baton at the same time. Orson, however, was ready for that move. He drew a homemade air gun from his uniform jacket and shot the second guard in the back with a tranq dart.
By the time the guard was able to turn and look at Orson in surprise, his eyes were already closing.
“Damn the stars,” Andersott whispered.
Orson turned to the man, wondering if the medic wasn’t the weak part of the entire plan. The young officer had put up barriers to every plan Orson had. Only promises of living like a king had swayed Andersott to Orson’s cause.
“You’re up,” Orson whispered. “And the stars have nothing to do with this. We are taking this ship. Do not let me down.”
Andersott pushed toward the bridge access panel, but Orson stopped him.
“You’re the center point of this operation. Our goals are either made possible or die right now. Do this right, and you’ll get everything I promised you.”
“Sure, Orson.” Beads of sweat were starting to grow on the medic’s forehead.
Orson grabbed the arm of the unconscious marine floating next to him, and wiped Andersott’s forehead with it.
Orson and Jace put the sleeping guards back into their positions, and then floated to the ceiling of the corridor to hide among conduits and ventilation equipment.
A second weapon, a hand built fléchette pistol, rested in Orson’s pocket. He pulled it out and readied it. More lethal than his tranquilizing air gun, this weapon was untested. If his creation worked, it would shoot three times. If it didn’t… well, Orson hoped he wouldn’t have to find out what that would involve.
Andersott keyed the bridge comm panel to request access. He was critical to the mutiny at this point. Without the cooperation of an officer who had reason to be on the bridge, the plan would fail. Bridge access was highly restricted.
Just another Alliance rule retained by Sarah Dayson that made many feel like second class citizens.
The crew of the Schein chafed under the Fleet Captain. The war was over for the Seventh Fleet. It was time for these ships to be mothballed. There wasn’t a soul on board who wasn’t sick and tired of being cooped up in space when white sand beaches under a green sky awaited them on Refuge.
Andersott was so nervous he flubbed the first code entry.
Orson hissed at him. “Don’t screw this up.”
The medic tried again.
“Bridge,” came the static laced reply from the comm panel. The electronics all across the Schein were still in questionable shape since that bitch Merik had attacked them at Fandama.
“Ensign Andersott. I have the med supply report for the Captain to review. We’re low on quite a few things, but I think I might have an idea to fix that.”
“Okay, ensign, just a minute.”
The door cycled open, magnetic boots clanked as they locked onto deck plating, and four of the mutineers pushed through the door as Andersott stepped back.
“Nobody move,” Orson yelled.
“What is the meaning of this,” Captain Lorre bellowed from his command station.
As Lorre finished his sentence, Orson’s remaining two men entered the bridge, weapons at the ready. At the moment it was a mutiny of five, but that would change soon.
The room hung with silen
ce for a moment, heavy with the potential of what was to come next.
Orson smiled at the sight of his other men, and was still smiling as he turned to face Captain Lorre. “Why, mutiny, of course. We’re taking the ship, Captain. You’d be wise to surrender.” The smiled faded from his face and coldness crept into his voice. “You know, if you want to live.”
Silence reigned as the three bridge crewmen stared at Orson and his fellow mutineers with abject malice. Looks shifted as Andersott slowly floated into the room, drawing expressions of contempt.
“I see no reason to tolerate this nonsense. Those look like toys,” Commander Heinrich, the Schein’s XO said as she waved at the weapon in Orson’s hand. She began laughing as she unhooked the straps of her acceleration webbing. “What are you going to do, play us to death?”
Captain Lorre followed her lead.
She’s the balls of this command crew.
Orson pointed his weapon at Heinrich’s leg and pulled the trigger. A loud popping sound slammed into his ears, momentarily stunning him.
Blood flowed from her wounded leg, coagulating in deep red spheres that floated away on air currents. Her uniform was shredded, the fléchette had ripped her thigh open. She slumped back in her webbing and screamed, “You son of a bitch!”
Orson barely heard it for the ringing in his ears. “Shut the hatch,” he yelled at Captain Lorre, pointing the pistol at the captain’s face.
Lorre touched his holodisplay and the door closed.
Heinrich screamed in rage.
“Shut up or I’ll kill all of you, slowly and painfully,” Orson snapped at her.
She quieted down, but the look on her face said everything she was thinking.
“Now,” Orson said, quieter. “Let’s talk about this reasonably so nobody else gets hurt. Surrender the ship, Captain.”
“Don’t do it,” Heinrich said, her voice a shriek.
Orson waved the gun at Lorre, but spoke to Heinrich. “Commander, I told you to shut up. The only reason you’re still alive is because we’re going to need your womb to save the human race from extinction.”
Heinrich stared at him in stunned silence. “What the— you bastard,” she spat, “I’m going to—”
“You’re not going to do anything, or I’m going to shoot Sergeant Stornbeck, just like I shot you.” Orson retorted. He stepped closer to Heinrich, his voice mocking her. “Just like you, you see, because she has something the future of the human race needs as well.”
Heinrich’s eyes poured hate onto Orson, but said nothing. Her intensity only lasted a moment, before she slumped back into her gravcouch and seemed to have trouble focusing. Her mouth hung open and a ball of drool floated out. Several large globes of blood drifted near her, but many had floated back onto her suit. As soon as a globule touched her it spread out and stuck like glue as surface tension took over.
She was starting to look like a bloody Dalmatian.
Andersott floated forward. “Let me stop that bleeding.”
Orson waved him off.
“I need to fix her,” the medic pleaded. “She’ll be dead in minutes!”
“Not yet. The Captain will hand over the ship, then you can tend to her. I wounded her,” Orson said, wagging his finger at the ensign, “and didn’t kill. Just as you asked, Andersott. Her life is in Lorre’s hands.”
Orson watched to make sure the medical officer complied, then turned to the Captain.
“Let him treat her,” Lorre demanded.
“Captain? Have you not figured out who’s in charge here?” Orson pointed his weapon at Sergeant Stornbeck. “Shall I start in on the sergeant? Or do you wish to surrender the Schein to me?”
“You can’t run this ship without my codes,” Lorre said to Andersott, ignoring Orson.
Blood flared with anger, and rage almost compelled Orson to shoot Lorre on the spot. Such outbursts were something to which he was prone, but being aware of that was only half the battle when it came to controlling the violent urges.
With victory in sight, he regained control and smiled.
He floated from Heinrich’s station to the Captain’s, stopping less than a meter from the commanding officer. He put the fléchette pistol under Lorre’s chin. “I’m in charge here. Andersott is mine to command, not yours. You will speak only to me.”
He paused to let that sink in before continuing. He grabbed Lorre’s face in his hand and placed the pistol against the Captain’s temple. “But you’re right, I need those codes. You will hand them over. This doesn’t have to be hard, unless you make it that way. And, if you don’t cooperate, a lot of people are going to die.”
Lorre’s eyes swiveled to look at the other mutineers, sizing them up.
Orson had picked his co-conspirators well, the men simply stared at the Captain for a moment, and when Lorre didn’t cooperate raised their weapons and pointed them at Sergeant Stornbeck’s legs.
The comm operator grew pale and whimpered.
Orson grinned at the captain, but spoke to the frightened sergeant. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, Jenny, but I’m going to certainly maim you for life if Captain Lorre doesn’t hand over the command codes. As I said, we need your womb, and to be honest that process will be a lot easier if you can’t walk.”
“D-d-don’t…” Sergeant Stornbeck said, as she looked at her Captain.
Orson snapped his head in her direction. “Did I say talk?”
She shook her head no.
Orson turned back to the Captain. “What will it be? Decide now, or I’ll paint the ceiling with your brains, then we’ll hack our way into the ship controls.”
Lorre looked Orson in the eye, saying nothing.
Orson tsked. “You leave me no choice, Captain. I’m sorry Jenny, but like I said, you don’t need to walk for our needs.” He smiled maniacally. “Jace, shoot her. Take her legs off at the kn—”
“Okay, you win,” Lorre said softly.
“What?” Orson snapped at Lorre as he motioned for Jace to wait.
“I’ll give you the codes,” Lorre said louder.
Orson patted Lorre on the head. “Good boy, Captain. I’ll need you to see to that right now. Me and the boys, you see, we have plans.”
Chapter 2 - High Council
17 MAI 15329
“It’s never been done this way,” an adept shouted from the platform. “We have lived with the gifted in firm charge, with guiding input from the priests, for thousands of years. There is no reason to change that. We need to return to our roots, to our religion, to the words of our countless ancestors. Let the newcomers adapt to our ways and maybe we will integrate suitable ideas from them into our society. This threat against humanity they speak of… it isn’t here. Our ancestors were insightful enough to move us away from the dangers…”
The speaker went on for the better part of half an hour. He was good at what he did, although what he did wasn’t helpful. Sarah Dayson, as commander of the Seventh Fleet, had often attended events with such pompous buffoons before. Political idiots prattling on as if they possessed the wisdom of the universe. This one actually should since the merging of minds with Merik, but he still managed to screw it up.
Sarah was frustrated, she wanted to stand up, take the stage, and put things on the right path. But that wasn’t how it worked here.
Yet.
Despite the almost two years since Merik’s death.
Dr. Thea Jannis sat in the next seat, both listened to the speeches via AI translation from their datapads.
The speaker continued. “We are already changing what we are.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Does anyone else remember having the ungifted at a council before? I don’t. Not even the priests were allowed except to provide testimony. Yet here we are, gathered in violation of our ancient rules, with adepts, priests, ungifted, and…” he paused and pointed at Sarah and Thea before changing his tone to carry a touch of disdain, “newcomers.”
Sarah made sure her face was expressionless, but wanted to
storm the stage and throttle him as anger seethed in her.
“So much change so quickly is destructive to the people, to the adepts, and creates evil ideas among both groups. We must resist this,” the adept continued.
“Merik would have loved this guy,” Thea whispered.
Sarah nodded a subtle affirmative in response. She wondered what Alarin would do in the face of this sort of nonsense.
“… and that, Honorable Prolocutor, is why we should make every effort to bring the newcomers under adept rule, with kindness and benevolence, to the benefit of all.”
The grand hall erupted with the sound of conversation among the councilors. Sarah frowned, although she was pleased to see applause for the speaker was minimal.
Thea spoke again, “He left out exploitation of our technology to further oppress the people of Refuge.”
“Over my dead body,” Sarah growled toward Thea.
Thea sighed before speaking. “If this council keeps going this way, it might be over both of our dead bodies.”
The Prolocutor of the Council rose from his seat on the stage. “Thank you, Master Adept Fasdamar of Karanya. Your time is now relegated for rebuttal to… Master Adept Alarin of Zeffult. Master Alarin, you have the floor.”
Fasdamar of Karanya. Sarah swiped his name into her datapad before giving Alarin her full attention. She smiled as her friend, and the adept she trusted most, strode to the center of the speaking stage.
An outpouring of applause greeted him. He’d become a folk hero as word of Merik’s demise spread across Refuge. Adept and non-adept both revered him for his fight to ensure the well being of the common man.
It was a story of inspiration. Even as he’d loved Merik, he’d defied her tyranny.
Discreetly Sarah scanned the audience and noted who wasn’t clapping. The weight of her automatic pistol at her side gave her little comfort knowing the power wielded by the adepts around her. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face as she considered that the men and women gathered here might possess more offensive capability than a fleet of starships.
Which was the key to her plan, ultimately.
