Red Planet: The Rebel War (Tamarians Book 3)

by Snow, Jessica

  Red Planet

  The Rebel War

  Jessica Snow

  Teresa Banschbach

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Also by Jessica Snow

  Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Snow

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Introduction

  I was hailed their leader. Made a queen. But I couldn’t prevent the war.

  As a lowly human, I never thought I’d end up as Queen of Tamaria. But stranger things have happened—like me becoming pregnant with Prince Tauren’s baby.

  Now a war has broken out between the rebels and Tamarians and it threatens the planet’s very existence.

  As Queen, I have to do what I can to help King Tauren put an end to the rebellion and prevent our kingdom from tearing itself apart. And I’ll destroy everything and everyone in my path to ensure victory .

  It won’t be easy. My right to rule will be tested. But I’ll fight to the very end, no matter the cost.

  For us and our unborn child.

  * * *

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  Red Planet Book 1 - The Slave Queen

  Red Planet Book 2 - The Revolt

  Chapter 1

  Kelbara

  The transport shuttle is crowded, packed shoulder to shoulder with a dozen people in a space designed for just seven or eight. Because of that, we've been standing for nearly three hours, holding onto handholds that someone attached this morning, the rivets still bright on the hull.

  The standing itself isn't too bad actually. For months now I've been training with this group of nearly all men, and standing for three hours with little space to move around is just about the easiest thing I've done during that whole time. I thought I was in good shape and strong before I became the executive officer and second in command of the group that is officially known as Royal Lancer Detachment Alpha, but we’re just called the Rangers. The most badass collection of 97 warriors on the entire planet of Tamaria. If we can pass this test.

  No, the hard part is that with a mission on our agenda for the day, a lot of the Rangers didn't exactly worry about taking a shower this morning. In fact, I don't think any of the Rangers with me took a shower this morning prior to taking off, and since I'm the shortest Ranger, I've been subjected to eleven other sets of armpits at just about my nose level.

  For three hours.

  And I can't move around.

  Someone coughs, and I can understand the nervousness in the air. The Rangers are the first and so far, only 'mixed unit' in the Tamarian military, with half of the members being human, the other half Tamarian. They were all volunteers, and up to now, while there haven't been too many conflicts between the humans and Tamarians, we're all nervous. Being professional or friendly is easy when nobody's trying to shoot at you.

  “Three minutes until we hit dirt!” the pilot up front calls behind him. I'm in the second of three shuttles; we're bringing thirty Rangers on this mission. This is the biggest shuttle, and when the fighting starts, we're going to be the ones that go right to the front, facing the enemy and we hope to shock them into paralysis. With any luck, things will go simply.

  “Okay second stick, listen up!” I say loudly in the quiet shuttle. And to think, we've trained doing this using the ducted fan shuttles too, where I need to holler over the roar of the fans. This part at least is easy. “Quick review, for anyone who was too busy sleeping or picking their nose during Commander Jensen's brief!”

  “The building we're hitting is a suspected Rebel weapons factory. On the positive side, the number of Rebel soldiers is reported to be low. Stealth shuttle coverage shows that the Rebels are trying to keep a somewhat low profile, so expect in the range of eight to ten Rebel Tamarians. On the bad side, two things. First, it's a weapons factory. Lots of things around there that they can pick up and shoot at us. Expect whoever wants to resist us to be heavily armed.”

  “I knew there was a reason they handed out the beetle shells,” someone jokes, using the nickname a lot of the troops have given for the full body armor we've adopted from the Royal Lancers. Iridescent black, the only units on Tamaria that use it are the Royal Lancers and us. It'll make target selection easy.

  “Yeah, now listen!” I reply, cutting off the laughter. “The bigger problem is that the factory is run by slavers. The best guess we have is there're three slaves for every Tamarian. We've trained for this problem. Some of the slaves are going to freeze, some are going to run, usually in the wrong direction to help us, but keep an eye out for any Stockers.”

  The humans in the shuttle grumble, which I can understand. They came up with the word first, borrowing from an ancient Earth word, Stockholm Syndrome. So far traditional units have run into them occasionally, human slaves who still fight with their slave owners for the Rebellion. They're looked upon on by most of the human Rangers, and by quite a few of the Tamarian Rangers too.

  “So expect more than a little bit of chaos when we go in there!” I continue. “Use your command voices, pick your targets properly, and try not to get any innocents killed. Still, you know our rule. There's twelve of us on this shuttle. How many are getting back on when we're done?”

  “TWELVE!” my stick responds in one voice, not yelling but still fiercely. It's only been a few months, but we've put ourselves through a lot of hard work, we've bonded.

  “Ten seconds, Sub-Commander!” the pilot calls, referring to me. I am one of two people with official rank in the Rangers, Jensen being the other. Everyone else is technically equal, with the chain of command determined by mission parameters. The theory is that every Lancer should be able and willing to step into any other Ranger's job, outside of some of the specialists like the pilots and medics. It's a move by Jensen that leaves the more traditionally minded Lancer commanders shocked, but it's worked well so far... in training.

  Our pilot swings us around in a tight circle, the back of the shuttle opening as he hovers half a meter off the ground. We're currently protected by the shuttle's shield that deflects energy weapons, but that only lasts for two steps after I hop off the back and run for the front of the factory, my powerlance already up and ready.

  I see in my peripheral vision that the other two shuttles on the raid are dropping down, they're supposed to hit the sides of factory ten seconds after we do, and they're right on time. Jensen's in shuttle one, he's taking the side of the building that blueprints reveal the offices of the factory are built on if the Rebels stuck to the blueprints.

  I go through the door two seconds after the first of my troops' tracker darts from their powerlances blow the door off its tracks, I only hope there was nobody innocent close to the door when it wh
en whipsawing into the factory.

  “Down, everyone down!” I boom out, my powerlance at the ready. Most of the slaves obey; sadly, I've had years to build the tone of voice that human slaves have learned means 'shut the fuck up and do what I say or else.'

  Of course, the Rebel guards start fighting back, but the Rangers are quick with their weapons, with everyone but me using plasma rounds. Electric purplish blue balls of energy start to fill the air, splashing around on the walls and machines, trying to take out the guards.

  Unfortunately, the guards don't have the same restrictions we do, and when they return fire, it's with Gauss rounds which not only are invisible to the naked eye as they travel at hypersonic speeds, but are fired silently as well, the only sound they make being the tiny sonic booms that don't come until after the round's either passed you or passed through you. Unless you see your enemy pointing their weapon at you, you won't have a chance.

  I see a guard and squeeze off a shot, taking him in the shoulder with a Gauss round. Jensen and I agreed, if anyone was going to use lethal force right off the bat in this fight, it would be him and me. We're nobles, we are going to be the public faces of the Rangers, and if anyone should bear the brunt of killing, it'll be us at first.

  I see a guard aiming at me with a Gauss rifle and I dive, rolling along the floor just as Jensen with his team hits the side of the building. Chaos is erupting all around me now and a human, in full-on panic mode, stampedes over me, his foot shoving me to the floor as he steps on my armor. Thankfully my torso armor is strong enough that I'm not crushed, and I scramble to my feet, confronted by my worst worry about the raid.

  There're only two guards left, but they've pulled humans in front of them, using them as shields as they fire their Gauss rifles from behind their hostages, trying to back away towards the corner. I see one of them draw a bead on some of the Rangers and I react, firing even as I know what's going to happen. The Gauss round punches through the human shield before hitting the slaver, blowing out both of their spines and killing them instantly. The other guard, seeing that his tactic isn't going to work, drops his pistol, letting go of his hostage and raising his hand. “I surrender!”

  “Hold fire!” Jensen calls from the upper level, emerging from the office. He surveys the factory floor, issuing orders. “Team two, human detail. Team three, prisoners! Team one, secure the perimeter! We're out in twenty minutes people, let's move! Sub-Commander, get the transports in here!”

  “Yes, sir!” I call up, shutting away the horror of what I've just seen, the sick tableau that I just painted on the wall with two people's blood. I've got a job to do, and until I get back home, there's no time for regret.

  * * *

  The night air is cool after the day's heat, but winter's finally letting go and spring feels good on my skin. I'm not feeling very celebratory though as I watch Castor and Pollux chase their way across the sky. There won't be too many more nights this year when the moons can both be visible in the sky; the gap between them is starting to widen, and before long it'll be time for the Blood Moon again.

  Not that I need a Blood Moon, not after today. I sip my wine, watching the moon in the garden of Jensen's estate.... well, my estate too in everything but name. We've lived together as lovers and more since just before the Rangers were formed, and while our bond isn't formalized yet, I feel like it's only a matter of time. I cannot imagine my life without Jensen by my side, and I'm sure he feels the same way about me.

  I hear footsteps on the tiles of the garden patio behind me and I turn my head, seeing Jensen approaching, a cup of wine in his hand as well. “Was Tauren happy with your report?” I ask disinterestedly, just looking for something to say as I turn back to look at the moon. “It took longer than I had thought it would.”

  “Tauren just wanted to have a chance to let off some steam with a friend,” Jensen says, taking a seat on the patio next to me. Our legs dangle over the edge of the raised patio, which is about a meter off the ground. “I know it took a bit long, but he's had a rough six months.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, looking down at the garden. In the moonlight, I can't see any of the greens that are starting to emerge from the winter chill, just pale silver and black shadows. “It's been a hard six months for all of us.”

  Jensen sips his wine, then sets the cup aside. “You say that like you're not talking about the past six months, but the past sixteen hours.”

  “I guess I am,” I whisper, shivering. “Jensen.... I try, but I keep thinking about the human I shot. You know I've killed before, but until today, I could rest comfortably because I was sure that I shot someone who would have shot me in return if given half a chance.”

  “But the human today was just a meat shield,” Jensen says, and I nod. “I understand.”

  “I watched him, Jensen!” I cry, throwing my glass into the garden where it shatters against a rock. “I watched him, the horror in his eyes for that moment as he knew what I'd done to him! I did it, nobody else! I pointed my powerlance at him and pushed the trigger!”

  “And in doing so, you took two lives, while saving at least one Ranger's,” Jensen says, putting a comforting arm around me. “And you eliminated one of the last of the Rebel guards in doing it, Kel. I have seen the video, remember? I even investigated personally, I saw the type of Gauss rifle the guy was trying to use, it was a fully automatic rifle with nearly a thousand rounds in it. It had enough power to punch through our armor too, he could have sprayed the entire room and killed dozens of people.”

  “I know!” I yell, the tears starting, refusing to stay where they've been locked inside me for hours now. “I know! Still....”

  “Still you think of the innocent one, wishing you could have saved them,” Jensen says quietly, and I nod. “Me too. I still think about the night that Tauren took the throne. I've even had nightmares about it. You see, I knew what Mogar was going to do, and part of me keeps saying that I should have anticipated the chaos that was going to break out that night. I should have expected the riots, the deaths. Maybe I didn't shoot anyone that night, but I think about those deaths all the time. And that's just one time I've had innocent blood on my hands, Kel. It fucking sucks.”

  I swallow my tears, trying futilely to hold them back, but I can't. I know that Jensen's telling the truth, he's spilled innocent blood a lot more than I have, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to accept. “I just... Jensen, it hurts.”

  Jensen turns and gathers me into his lap, holding me tightly and reassuring me with his strength. “It's supposed to, my love. If it didn't, you wouldn't be the woman that I fell in love with. It's also the reason why I only trusted you to go in there with Gauss rounds active. I knew you were strong enough to let it hurt.”

  “What do you mean?” I sniff, wiping at my nose.

  “I mean, I want the woman I love, the mother of my future children, and my second in command to all be strong enough to feel that horror. I'm not saying I want you to, but to be strong enough... that's important. Not everyone is that strong.”

  I swallow, putting my head on Jensen's shoulder and holding him. At the mention of children, I sigh, my other frustration coming out. “We've been trying for a few months now. What if Mogar's pills don't work?”

  “I have faith in Mogar's skills,” Jensen says soothingly, stroking my back. “And I love you regardless if you get pregnant now, next month, or a decade from now. I love you and I want to be with you even if we never have a baby. Relax my love, it's only been a few months we've been trying. You know, it's not like women get pregnant the first time they try.”

  “I know, I know,” I grumble, turning and straddling his waist. My mood changes as Jensen's hands are strong and reassuring, his lips warm as he kisses my throat. I hum, enjoying the sensation before chuckling. “You're trying to distract me.”

  “Not totally,” Jensen rumbles in between kisses. “Part of it is that I have a beautiful woman in my lap, and I'm going to make love with her.”

  “Oh r
eally?” I purr, running my fingers through my hair. “And if I say no?”

  “Then I make it an order,” Jensen teases. He kisses down to the neck of the Ranger undershirt I'm wearing, tasting the sweat that I still haven't washed off. “Mm, slightly salty.”

  “I'm yucky and nasty,” I laugh, my hips starting to move on their own. I feel something thick and needed hardening in his pants and pushing between my legs. “Shouldn't we go take a shower?”

  “No,” Jensen says, crushing me in an embrace and hopping off the patio. He's so strong that he barely needs to adjust when his boots hit the soft grass and he tumbles us to the grass, pulling me down beside him and kissing me hotly. “Here.”

  “And making a baby?” I ask, Jensen shaking his head.

  “There're more reasons to make love than just trying to make a baby,” Jensen says, his hands pulling at my clothes. “Such as showing Tamaria's most beautiful woman how amazing she is.”

  His words reassure me, and I give in to the passion building inside me. Somehow, in a flurry of hands, pulling and rolling back and forth on the grass Jensen and I get out of our clothes, and he pins me to the ground, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. His hand hovers over my skin, so close that I can feel the electricity without him physically making contact. “Now... who's is this?”

  “Yours, sir,” I whisper, my body aching for his touch.

  “For how long?” he demands, lowering his head until his lips are just a fraction of a centimeter from my ear.

  “Forever, sir,” I moan. Jensen agrees and kisses me, his tongue demanding but tender, my skin thrilling at the press of his firm muscles against me. I can feel the throbbing heat of his cock on my thigh, but he doesn't do anything when I spread my legs, and instead he starts to kiss down my throat, sliding down my body. “Sir?”