by J. N. Chaney
“Until they come for us,” he warned. “Come for all of us, yourselves included, and this world you’ve inherited. Everything. They’ll kill us all to have it!”
His eyes were wide with fear now, blood pumping as the words left him. It had been some time since I saw fear that heavy on a man’s face, and I knew better than to ignore it.
“Who are you talking about?” I asked him, finally lowering my gun. “Who’s after your people?”
“A race of evolved Eternals intent on wiping the rest of us from the galaxy,” said Leif.
“Evolved?” repeated Dressler.
“Forced evolution through genetic engineering,” explained Leif. “They are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. We have no means of combating them. Our only recourse was to find the gate back to this world and shut it down from the other side.”
Octavia looked up at me, drawn by what this man was saying. “Who are these people?” she asked.
“We call them the Brine, but only out of malice. The name they give themselves is too arrogant, so we actively avoid it.”
“Still, I’d like to hear it,” said Dressler.
Leif took a breath, his lip twitching as he did. He slowly steadied himself, then looked me directly in the eye, and said, “They call themselves the Celestials, and please, for all our sakes, help us close the gate. Help us lock them out!”
EPILOGUE
I ordered every ship to evacuate the survivors to the surface, letting Athena coordinate the move. The whole process would take days, but I was confident we’d get everything handled by the time it was all over.
I also had everyone on the Dawn return to Verdun, now that we’d taken care of the trilobite infestation. As it turned out, every single mechanical bug on the planet had stopped working at the exact moment we’d pulled the plug. Shortly after that, several new facilities had emerged from underground, each of them shaped like large domes and containing countless storage lockers and cryogenically frozen bio-specimens. At least, that’s how Sigmond had described them.
I was more concerned with our new friends and their warnings of an impending threat from across the galaxy. If what Leif had told me was right, we were going to have our hands full with more than just a few hundred domes and some new refugees.
That was why I needed every ounce of intelligence I could find, which meant we’d have to question Leif again, along with most of the other survivors. It also meant analyzing the data we’d collected so far, including the long-range scans from the drone we lost inside the slip tunnel.
I sat in my office, leaned back in my chair and stared at the holo image hovering over my desk. Alphonse and Sigmond were right beside me. I would’ve had the rest of the crew here for this, but they were all busy handling the mess outside. For now, the three of us would have to do, and I reckoned that was enough.
The image before me was a nebula. Large, mostly pink and white, with a breadth of stars around and within. I’d never seen it before, but the drone had sent it back, along with a few thousand other images from inside the tunnel that revealed nothing.
“The ancients called this place the Eagle Nebula,” said Sigmond. “This particular grid was known as the Pillars of Creation. The gas and dust are in the process of creating new stars, hence its name.”
“I’m not familiar with this one,” said Alphonse.
“That is because it is located approximately seven thousand light years from Earth,” said the Cognitive. “It is, however, two light years from the slip tunnel’s exit point.”
“Do you think this is where the Celestials are?” I asked.
“We have little data to support any current hypothesis, but I believe this nebula contains enough resources and renewable energy to power such a civilization,” said Sigmond.
I leaned forward, staring at the floating nebula on my desk. “What do you think, Al?”
“What about?” he asked.
“This so-called threat,” I answered, cocking my brow. “You’re the Constable. Tell me the truth. Is this something we can handle?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, but there are factors to consider before we make any decisions,” he explained.
“Such as?” I asked.
He tipped his hand. “If these so-called Celestials have guided their own evolution, what exactly does that entail? How much more sophisticated is their biology compared to the Eternals? Overspecialization leads to weakness, so are they more adapted to an oxygenated atmosphere, or can they somehow exist in other places, such as space? Do they even breathe?” He tapped his chin, thoughtfully, and took a few steps away from the desk towards the door. “For that matter, with easy access to infinite basic materials in the nebula, can they be defeated through a war of attrition? Our resources are not limitless, but theirs might be. We know their ancestors were capable of creating Cognitives and drone fleets. Did they continue to perfect their drone and Cognitive technology even further?” He swung back around to face me, pulling his sleeve back to reveal one of his blue tattoos. “The Eternals developed these to act as a universal access key to interface with their technology. What could the Celestials have built that improves upon this idea? Is there something else entirely that they have developed which makes it obsolete?”
I stared at him, momentarily dumbstruck. “Shit, Al. Did you just think of all that?”
He smirked. “The first few came to me earlier, during our talk with Leif, but the rest followed once I started going.” He shook his head. “Truthfully, Captain, it does seem an overwhelming task, I must admit, but so were all the others. The Union, the Sarkonians, Hephaestus and the drones. More recently, the trilobites.”
“It never ends, does it?” I asked with a sigh. “We’ve gone through all manner of hell.”
“Yes,” he said, leaning onto the side of my desk and looking me in the eye. “And yet, here we are.”
I let my eyes drift to the holo, staring at the brightest star in the pink nebula. “Here we are,” I muttered, letting my friend’s words settle in my mind.
I’d come all this way, brought these people together, found us a home. Through everything, we’d never given up, never chose to turn and run from any of it.
I imagined Brigham in the mud again, threatening me, even as the life drained from his body. He’d told me that the enemy would always be after us, that I’d always be running and fighting to survive. Maybe he was right. Maybe that was simply my role in the universe and I was destined to bleed and kill until the day I fell.
If that was true, then so be it. I didn’t give a damn anymore.
I wouldn’t walk away, not after everything I’d been through. Not after all our sacrifices. Whatever happened next, it would determine the fate of every person in this colony, maybe even beyond.
We had a right to live. To hell with anyone who tried to tell me otherwise.
If these Celestials meant to take what we’d earned, I’d fight them for as long as I was able. If it meant proving Brigham right, so be it.
That was my nature. It was in my very blood.
I was made to be free, and I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone tell me otherwise. Brigham, the Union, Celestials, gods, or men.
None of them would take ownership over my soul.
“Alright then, boys,” I said, pushing my chair back and getting to my feet. “I think it’s time we got to work.”
Jace, Abigail, and Lex will return in RENEGADE CHILDREN, coming September 2018.
Read on for a special note from the author.
AUTHOR NOTES
The Eternals Arc is in full swing! I hope you enjoyed the beginning of the next chapter in the Renegade storyline. I really wanted to show a different side of Jace for this book. He’s gone through so much that we expect him to roll with the punches, but even the bravest of us has a fear inside of them, trying to eat them from within. It’s only when we rise to the challenge and face that ghost that we grow stronger. In Jace’s case, he had to move on from his fight with Brigham and let go of his parano
ia, even though that same paranoia had kept him alive for so long.
Turns out, of course, that he was sort of right, although for the wrong reasons. It wasn’t the Union he had to fear, but something far more dangerous. A brand new threat with unparalleled power. The Celestials.
The next book will see our fearless crew confront this mysterious group, expanding the mythos of the Renegade universe more than ever before. It’s something I’ve wanted to delve into for a while now, so I’m stoked to finally be able to explore it.
That being said, I’m also working on other stories in this universe that fall outside of the main storyline and Jace’s perspective. For starters, I’m working on an Abigail origin book. You may have noticed some references to her backstory in this book, including her sister. All of that is going to be revealed in the origin novel, coming later this year. Don’t worry, though, the main Renegade series will continue to release at a steady pace. It is still my top priority.
Oh, and before I forget, we had a few new faces pop up in this entry, including Petra and Verne. They will both return in the next installment, along with Freddie (in case you were worried that he was getting sidelined). Petra will be especially fun, thanks her brand new mechanized arm.
Until next time, 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 Other Side of Nowhere.
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.
