Anarchate Vigilante (Vigilante Series 4)

by T. Jackson King

  With a grin he could not hold inside, Matt tied the sash of his robe and walked barefoot to the last surviving member of his family.

  “Hey, Charlotte! You got room for your big brother?”

  His sister’s puffy red eyes looked at him from her embrace of their mother. “Matt! Oh Matt! I thought I’d never see you or Mom again! Get over here and be with us!”

  Matt did as ordered. He wrapped his arms around both women, feeling their warmth, their realness. Blinking his eyes, he felt tears well out. Damn it all! But he’d done the near impossible. He deserved to feel good for a little while. Bending his head down, he touched his cheeks to theirs.

  “Missed you both! Love you both!”

  With mutual cries they welcomed him into their embrace, kissing him, sniffling along with him and celebrating the gift of lives newly liberated.

  In his mind, Eliana summed it up. “Matthew, this gift of reunion is what it’s all about. The fighting. The danger. The battle against unknown dangers.” Dressed in the outfit he’d tossed her, Eliana walked over and leaned against his back as he hugged his women. “Every thinking person in the galaxy needs to welcome home their family member from cloneslavery captivity!” she whispered.

  Matt agreed with Eliana. And it reminded him that Mata Hari had talked about herself and Gatekeeper as if they were a family. His Vigilante partner was even fabricating a purple metal geodesic globe into which she would move her crystal mind pillars from their place in a corner of the Bridge. She wanted mobility of her physical mind, in the same way the mentalities of BattleMind and Gatekeeper could move in space or on a planet thanks to a Repulsor pack.

  What else did the AI want? A child?

  That was surely the need and desire of his Eliana. She had shared everything with him. The dangers. The threats. The uncertainties. And the hope that his crusade to end cloneslavery in the galaxy would succeed, despite the increasing combat sophistication of the Anarchate battle fleets. And the slyness of their Intel operatives. This case of holo faking was something new to Matt. But not to the Anarchate spy who had used it in trying to capture Charlotte.

  He pulled back from the group hug with his Mom and Charlotte. “My family, please accept into our clan my Eliana. She saved Charlotte. And she is a wonder!”

  Behind him Eliana moved in to hug the last two survivors of his first family.

  Soon they would rendezvous with the rest of Hexagon Prime fleet behind the gas giant Muddysomething. While they would talk of tactics and strategy before leaving the system, he hoped there would be time for him and Eliana to be together. To love each other. And to hope for a special future together.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Matt expanded his Interlock Pit awareness to bring into mind communion the pilots of his fleet, including Eliana who was now back aboard her ship Altuna. He and Eliana had shared a few wonderful hours together. But now was the time for business. In mindlink the mind shapes of each pilot hovered above the green meadow of Mata Hari’s Park habitat. A beautiful and calm place like the Park seemed to please everyone, even his ally Toktaleen. Who tilted his two head antennae toward Matt even as his lower arm pair rasped anxiously.

  “Vigilante leader, to where do we Translate now?” asked the giant yellow ant.

  “Wherever the Anarchate does not expect us to appear!”

  Suzanne reached over to hold George’s hand as a small replacement for the in-person contact they all needed. She frowned. “Matt, the presence on Thuringia of a fake Matthew tells me other parts of the Anarchate are busy hunting for you. There could well be more battleglobes on their way here!”

  George lifted Suzanne’s hand, kissed it, then smiled at Matt. “Battlemate, my wife is likely correct in her assessment. She was the IT manager for Omega Casino, as you recall.” George ran a free hand through his thick black beard in a body sign Matt knew indicated concern. “Plus she and Eliana have this precog thing. What says your look into the future, my love?”

  Suzanne’s green eyes went distant for a moment, then fixed back on everyone. “No more battleglobes incoming for the moment. Thuringia will not be harmed by the Anarchate for sheltering Charlotte.” She blinked slowly. “But some moon base minds say our human colonized worlds are being visited by Anarchate agents, looking for evidence they are helping us. Morrigan will be visited soon.” She bit her lip. “It would help our Irish refuge if we could draw attention away from Morrigan and toward new attacks on Anarchate bases.”

  George the wrestler folded hands in his lap and fixed on Matt. “My friend, your geis obligation to dead Helen remains and I support you wholly. But we must do something to protect Morrigan. More attacks will draw attention to the attacks.”

  Matt nodded, recalling Morrigan’s support for their anti-cloneslavery crusade, and felt as Suzanne. They must resume the offense against the Anarchate. “Agreed, Suzanne and George. But to quote Sun Tzu—He whose ranks are united in purpose will be victorious. I may be the leader, but I am not blind to advice. Does anyone else in this fleet have ideas on what we should do next?”

  Ben Ayers tipped back his brown bush hat, his expression sharp as that of an Aussie fox. “There are other Flesh Markets elsewhere in this sector,” he said in an accent similar to George’s Celtic. “There’s one just over in Sagittarius-Carina Arm, opposite the location of Sol. And one further along, toward Kappa Crucis cluster and Morrigan. My fiancé died in the slaver attack on our colony. I want more dead Flesh Markets!” Sarah reached over and hugged Ben, whose grim look lightened. “Vigilante, we could attack those Flesh Markets on the way to dropping off your mother on Morrigan. And also hit any Anarchate tachlink bases along that route.”

  Matt had not forgotten his Mom, who had been quiet in her accel-couch since their arrival in Pi-3 Orion system. She was a trooper who, since their family picnic in the Park, had come to understand that his family time was limited by his obligations to Hexagon Prime fleet. And now young Ben was showing him an option that he should pursue.

  “Agreed, Ben. Good point on getting my Mom and the three cloneslaver base captives to Morrigan. The first of the Flesh Markets is M2-9, a planetary nebula. It’s about 2,100 light years away from here, in Sagittarius Arm.” He smiled at both Suzanne and Ben. “We can get there within a week or less. Which gives the two of you time to confer together. On one of your ships.”

  Mata Hari’s mind image moved from red cloud essence to her Lady of the Sword persona. Her sword was uplifted. “Matthew, we need to Translate away from here. The moon base has surely called for Anarchate help.”

  Oh, so true. “Everyone, thank you. Head for your Interlock Pits and in five minutes we head for M2-9!” A frown on Suzanne’s face made him pause. “Or, we Translate right after Ben and Suzanne have chosen a ship for their conferring on tactics!”

  Everyone in the mindlink laughed or rasped limbs. Matt just kept a mental lid on the time he and Eliana had shared together. No need to provide the group with laughs like the nice romance between Sarah and Ben.

  “Exactly right!” Eliana whispered in his mind, her pale face flushing red.

  Mindstorm of the Nik-nik thot species rested in his water bowl, floating in Nullgrav before the fifteen other members of the Council of Sixteen. Several datapads and holo emitters floated next to him. The saltiness of his basin water was perfect. But the agenda of this council meeting was focused on the Human biped who had brought disaster and chaos to his Sector 14 domain. The last time he’d met the council they had shown patience with him. He had kept them advised as he appointed a new Sector Captain for the much diminished battleglobes of the sector fleet, and a High Commander for the new Intel Base in Sagittarius Arm. Both Running Leader and Sytoon had provided him with regular reports which he had passed on. But Council Chief Sooteen of the Loglan, a fellow amphibian like him, now fixed all four eyestalks on him.

  “Mindstorm, your renegade biped has grown beyond an annoyance,” she clicked to him in formal, antique Belizel. “Other components of his T’Chak fleet have
destroyed 31 Combat Command bases, twelve naval shipyards, 221 Nova-class battleglobes and 297,321 trained personnel. In nine of our fifteen sectors. Not including your recent losses in Sector 14. Explain your failure to capture or kill this . . . enemy of Trade.”

  So it began. “This biped of the Newcomer species Human has proven extremely difficult to locate, let alone destroy,” Mindstorm said with careful use of his mouth palps. “Observe the track of his appearances,” he said, activating a holo with his ingestion cilia. The attack spots pulsed in multiple spectrums suitable to the species of each council member. “The encouraging news is that my new fleet captain, one Running Leader of the Dolmat species, has developed additional weapons for use against attacks by the Human’s nearly invulnerable warships. A Nova Blast weapon and a Black Hole Ejector of artificial black holes! Both are capable of overloading the Alcubierre space-time shields which the T’Chak ships use to block our antimatter and other beams.”

  Noktoren of the Solink avians, his neighbor in Sector 13, flapped leather wings from its roost and pointed its yellow beak his way. “Your good news, Leader of Sector 14, involves the explosion of a star in order to incinerate your base. That seems rather extreme to me.” The red-crested avian’s gaze left him to include the rest of the council. “The most recent attack in my sector was the raiding of a genome harvester rest and repair base at the Ring Nebula M57. The asteroid base was turned to stellar plasma by one of these T’Chak weapons.”

  Mindstorm wished his exoskeleton shell could change colors like the softer shell of Sooteen. He held his four eyestalks at the angle of Intent Focus. “My friends on the council, that is true. But the Nova Blast that destroyed star CC3214 in the Dumbbell M27 nebula was a tactical surprise to this Dragoneaux biped! His eight ships were nearly incinerated. They barely escaped.” He paused, then activated another holo with his cilia. “This portrays the normal space-time locale of the stars Antares A and Antares B. While the Human managed to recover his progenitor from her Mican owner on the planet Working, his eight ship fleet fled to Antares B. The battleglobe fleet of Sector Captain Running Leader pursued and severely wounded one of the T’Chak ships by use of this new black hole weapon. The Human fled the battle scene!”

  Dooshesh mik-mal, the black furred Meligun biped who was leader of Sector 9, and a member of the Melikark Conglomerate, grunted loudly. “Small battles. Small victories, Leader Mindstorm.” The land dweller, who possessed just two pink eyes locked within its cranium, folded both arm pairs over its broad upper body. “However, the Human defeated all Anarchate forces in his home star system of Pi-3 Orion. Somehow, the Human learned that his female sibling, name sigil Charlotte Dragoneaux, had escaped the control of her Meligun owner while visiting the planet Module of 51 Pegasi. She committed identity theft of a Human student at the IT Academy, traveled to the orbital station and fled in a commerce starship captained by a Hootnai carnivore. She was taken into hiding by planet Thuringia’s Human governor. Two Corvettes and a Nova battleglobe tried to capture her but were vaporized. Leader, how is it that this wing-less biped possesses better intelligence than the Anarchate?”

  Mindstorm had been wondering that exact point. He’d been told by Intel High Commander Sytoon of the visit by Medun seeking assistance in recovery of the sibling female, but had heard nothing from his Spelidon chief assistant. Even his tachlink nodule had been unable to connect with the similar nodule embedded in the hairy biped’s cranium. Failure to link only happened due to two reasons—when close to a supernova explosion, or the death of the lifeform implanted with the tachlink nodule.

  He stood up on his six pincer feet, showing his earnestness by removing his gills from the luxury of salt water. His four eyestalks fixed on the representative of the outcast Melikark Conglomerate. “Sector 9 leader, my new Intel High Commander is exploring exactly that matter. My chief assistant, one Medun of the Spelidon ancients, was present on the world Thuringia when Anarchate forces attempted to capture this sibling of the renegade Human. I have not heard from him. If he was lost to the Trade insanity of this Human, I will rename the survivor of one of my egg-sacks in his honor!”

  Sooteen’s soft shell flared brightly with colors green, yellow, red and black, an expression of astonishment. “Leader Mindstorm! That is a most astonishing compliment to pay to any employee of the council!”

  Mindstorm knew that. Which is why he had made up that response on the spot. “Thank you, council chief. Your appreciation of how unique this is to us amphibians, who lack the progenitor allegiance of dryland species, is highly valued.”

  Sooteen’s colorful chromatophore display quieted down to a dull brown and yellow mix. “Quite so, Mindstorm. But if this dangerous Human now controls his last two living biorelations, what means do you propose for trapping or destroying him? Since this renegade began his assault on tradition, our battleglobe strength has dropped below 11,000. The last time that happened was 43,271 cycles ago.”

  Mindstorm tightened his mouth palps. “My Intel High Commander Sytoon is convinced this biped is receiving help from one of the 27 worlds colonized by this Human species,” he said. “Once we locate the colony world supporting him, we can either put it into quarantine from Trade, or set a trap for this dryland biped.”

  Noktoren flapped his leathery wings with an emphasis specific to its culture. “If you set a trap, inform me, my sector ally. I wish to be present to share in the strike from above!”

  Mindstorm gave thanks for the new chain of red rubies he had added to his jewel encrusted shell. Clearly the classical adornment style unique to his Nik-nik thot species had won him proper respect. “Your presence at the capture or killing of this ground-bound renegade is welcome, my ally Noktoren!”

  The other members of the council turned their perceptor stalks, podeyes, sonar horns and acoustic patches to other business. While any disturbance to Trade bothered them all, the first imperative of the Anarchate was to find ways to increase the assets of every species in the galaxy. With, of course, an emphasis on first rewarding members of Ancient species. Which included every member of the Council of Sixteen.

  Airmed O’Davoren stood before the glass wall of her skyrise office on Morrigan. It gave her a high view of the giant meadow, small lake and enclosing trees of Lisdoonvarna’s central park. A place of field games, picnics, romantic couples and the arrival site of Matthew Dragoneaux’s giant warship Mata Hari. The four gouges in the green grass left by the ship’s Colossus Mode legs had healed. But the arrival of Matt, Eliana, Mata Hari and Gatekeeper the emotional AIs, the 152 Omega Casino refugees and the 15 genome slaver captives from the town of Rathfriland, that arrival had led to this visit from the Anarchate. The visit she had been dreading. She turned to face the giant black bear who called himself Rak alk-thorn.

  “Emissary of the Anarchate, our world is pleased to host your visit,” she said lightly, with a smile on her face since it was clear a solo emissary was some kind of spy interrogator. And such would have studied human behaviors, expressions and body reactions. “We had been wondering when the Anarchate would establish an official office on our world. Do you have word of such an event?”

  The elfin ears of the Meligun flared backward. Its two pink eyes, arranged just like hers, stared intently at her even as its shoulder and waist arm pairs folded themselves over its leather strapped chest. “Your greeting is appreciated, Governor Airmed O’Davoren. I am sure the Trade officials of Sector 14 will soon establish a commerce embassy on your . . . attractive world. However, I am here in pursuit of information about a renegade Human who, your civil archive database reports, visited your world nearly a year ago.”

  Airmed gestured the black-furred bear to join her on a cushioned half-circle bench. She sat and it sat also, the black claws on its bare feet digging into her nice Persian carpet. “Would that be Mr. Matthew Raven’s-Wing Dragoneaux? We saw the recent tachnet broadcast from the Crab Nebula and from our human colony on Thuringia. Sad to see such a nice man causing such problems for Trade.”

/>   “Exactly,” said the emissary, agreeing to some part of what she had just stated. “This male Human is a declared enemy of the Anarchate for violations of Rules One and Four. We need your cooperation in learning every detail of his visit to your star system and this world.”

  “Of course,” she said in a light tone, making sure to avoid any hint of sarcasm. “Our world appreciates the galactic benefits that are ensured by Anarchate forces and officials. We had hoped to have an Anarchate embassy earlier. Perhaps that would have discouraged the genome harvester starship from raiding our village Rathfriland and taking captive fifteen humans for sale to a cloneslave market.”

  The pink eyes of Rak alk-thorn blinked slowly, in a reaction indicating bemusement, according to the Compendium of Species. “It is the duty of every colony world of any species to discourage such visits. Cloneslavery is a legal commerce within the Anarchate. However, each planet has the right to stop such an infringement on its planetary affairs.” The solo emissary glanced aside at her wall window, clearly paying attention to the distant park. “However, your world did not do so even with two Corvettes in orbit about your planet. Perhaps due to an error by your defense forces?”

  “Perhaps,” Airmed said, showing a slight frown that would be normal for any sapient who worked as a planetary executive. “However, as you know from our civil archive, this man Dragoneaux was coming to our world for food and fuel supplies. His ship arrived at the heliopause and headed into our system. That ship detected the audiovisual microwave broadcasts of myself and my militia leader telling our populace of the slaver attack and our Corvette’s effort to intercept the slaver ship. It was too fast for us. Mr. Dragoneaux’s ship intercepted the slaver ship, entered it, defeated its crew, rescued our fifteen captive citizens, and returned them to our world.”

  The giant bear inclined its blocky head in imitation of the human gesture of acknowledgment. A gesture alien to its species, she had read in the Compendium. “Those facts are clearly recorded in your civil archive. The harvester ship was destroyed. Your citizens were returned to this planet. However, the arrival of this human’s starship within your capital, to hover above the park habitat outside that window, well, that is most unusual in my experience.”