Exile’s Return
The Farthest Star - Book 2
By Rebecca Mickley
Edited By: Kat Luck
Copyright © 2013 by Rebecca Mickley
eBook edition published by
Rebecca Mickley and Studio Prey, 2019
Content Editing by Kathrine Luck
Book design and production by Studio Prey
E-mail the author at [email protected]
Visit the author's website at
www.studioprey.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, used, or transmitted in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations in a book review.
First Printing 2014
Third Edition, Jan 2019
The Farthest Star Series
Gateways – Book 0.5 (Only available on StudioPrey.com)
Dawnbreak – Book 1
Exile’s Return – Book 2
Rise of the Forgotten – Book 3
The Farthest Star – Book 4
Sins of the Solar Republic – Book 5
Electronic Souls – Book 6
Captain Tosk – Book 7
Starfall – Book 8
Angels of Our Yesterday – Book 9
Demons of Our Tomorrow – Book 10
Acknowledgements
Exile's Return has been a labor of love (and sometimes deep frustration) for many years.
There have been so many that have contributed to its success, including Kat the Dragon, Maya Sora, Karen McLellan, Karen Williamson, Sara Coty, Waggs, to name but a few.
I'd like to also take the time to acknowledge my readers. The reviews of Exile's Return have been beyond my wildest dreams. Your love for my characters and interest in my story universe have helped me keep the pen to the page even when the ink didn't want to flow. You have helped me through the dry spells that every writer has, and given me something to focus upon when the critical inner voice rises to a high and undeniable shriek.
And finally, I always like to end these by acknowledging the efforts of my friends and family, for their long-suffering, encouragement and support. I love you all.
Onward, towards the Farthest Star!
Forward
Exile's Return was actually my first published work back in 2014. I feel the book still stands well on it's own, and I look back upon it with great nostalgia. That being said, I feel it is clear that my style has evolved since that time. Without further ado, I'd like to welcome you to this freshly revised and updated third edition.
Happy Reading!
CONTENTS
Cover
Copyright
The Farthest Star Series
Acknowledgements
Forward
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
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
From the author…
About Rebecca Mickley
Other Titles By Rebecca Mickley
This book is dedicated to Phil Geusz; the man who taught me how to dream with words.
This book would have never made it to its first edition without the support of my beloved husband, and never to its third without Katharine Luck, my editor, and my sister in spirit. Throughout my life, family has made the greatest difference. I would not be the author I am without their support, and you two are shining examples of this.
I love you all. Thank you for all you have done for me.
—Rebecca Mickley
Chapter 1
// NEURAL ACTIVITY DETECTED, INITIATING LOG //
Fear, panic, the noise, the smell! Big Predator! Something was here. Run, flee, have to get away!
I dashed for my home, the tiny nest in the big cave. Streaking past the open door, I landed safe, happy in my home. It would surely never find me here.
I could hear it. It was coming closer. It was making strange noises.Something seemed familiar about this noise. I heard it again, "HELLO, LIEUTENANT! Are you here? HELLLO?"
Scary noise, very loud, it must not be afraid of anything. Is it hungry? Does it want to eat me?
Fear pushed me back into the dark back corner of the nest, its comforting smells doing nothing for me. Suddenly, a dim spark in the back of my mind began to glow, like an ember catching dry grass.
There was something, something special about that noise it was making. That smell, it was so familiar. Fear was goading me to run, but… but… I had to remember. Something... so important. I had to.
Like lightning, my eyes snapped open. Shit, what happened? I shook my head trying to take stock while my instincts prodded me to hide, to run. Wait, wait, I have to get a grip. Calm down, calm down. Bring your instincts under control.
I hit a computer panel and gasped. The display was covered in dust, the screen flickering with the burden of age. Its message was as shocking as it was brief. It read: Your last log on was over 3 years ago.
My eyes were wide with horror, the realization slowly dawning on me. The terrible reality, three years, lost to feral. Three years without thought or memory.
"HELLO!” The voice was close now, snapping me out of my sudden reflection. I had to think about what to do. Thinking was like pushing through a cold gel, concepts forming under the ice of years of lack of use.
I sneezed as I shook, and saw some dust fly up off the console. The room looked like a relic, forgotten and abandoned. A spot under the table held a nest of blankets. Somewhere, something inside me thought “safe.” What the hell had happened? I came here to escape, not lose myself.
I heard a twig snap, and suddenly I skittered towards the door. Damn, they were getting close. Fragments of memory came floating back to me. How easy it was to relax, and let the animal take control. How seductive, how terribly liberating it had been, just to let… it... slip...
No, dammit! Not now. Plenty of time to deal with my departure from reality later. Shit, I'm running out of time. Think Snow, dammit, what do you need? Voice collar! That's right! A dark part of my mind wondered if I could still use it. Knocking dust off of old boxes I finally came across it, purple with a morphic identifier tag. I held the two ends and counted to five, but it failed to respond. The batteries were dead. Frustrated, I dropped it, just as I heard steps coming up the way.
I hit the switch, that had been hastily bolted to the frame at my level, allowing the door to slide open before he could knock, every instinct telling me it was a stupid move, as I stared up at him. He towered over me, sending an involuntary spasm of fear through my body that made my fur stand on end. Fear reached up from the darkness and threatened to paralyze me, but my reason was still driving. I began making sign only to be unceremoniously interrupted by this male with
choking cologne. At least there didn’t seem to be any more of them. He motioned to me and spoke rapidly.
“Wait, wait just a minute.” He fumbled in a pack on his right side, various bits falling out as he rapidly searched it. Finally he gave a satisfied “Aha!” as he pulled out a voice collar.
He really was tall, even for a human, about 1.88 meters, with black hair and green eyes. He wore a uniform, much like the one I had worn aboard the Danube when I was in the service. His boots were polished to a high shine. His scent, his real one, was a mystery because of that god-awful cologne he was wearing.
I snatched the collar from his hand and pressed it to my neck. It activated, locking itself around my neck of its own accord and handshaking with the nanites inside my bloodstream. Concentrating, I tried to speak.
Nothing came at first, but unused pathways and micro machinery slowly ground to life. The effort was almost painful, but it was getting easier to take control. It was coming back to me, and with stuttering halts I began to speak.
"Wa…wa…" I stuttered, trying to make the words form in my mind, "What... reason... came...?"
I began to pant, exhausted with the mental effort it took to use it. As the man spoke my heart was still pounding, but slowly anger was taking the place of the fear I felt. This man was an intruder; he had barged into my home unwelcomed. This would not go unanswered.
"Lt. Dawkins, I came here to seek your help. We have a matter that could use your attention."
"Don't... Care... Leave! Shoo! Bad... smelly... thing!" I spat, cursing myself for being so out of practice. Something told me the words I had just used would not be the most effective, but inside I still felt very scrambled.
"Lieutenant, do I need to remind you that you are subject to involuntary recall at any time per your initial service agreement?" He crossed his arms, standing implacable.
"No, no, no! Go away, leave, leave!" Inside my mind, part of me thought I had gone completely insane staring this thing down, but I held on.
"Lieutenant? Are you OK?" he asked, looking down at me, sounding concerned, though whether for me or for his mission was unclear. “Your speech is barely coherent. Look, we have a doctor on the ship. We will get you checked out, then we can go over the details.”
I shook my head rapidly. "No need you help! Long time... No talk. Talk, making noise. Shoo! Go away." Slowly words were coming back, patterns, making my speech more useful. I put my forepaws on my head and cursed my lazy brain. "I... Fine... is... coming back... Patience... long... time, no talk... Rusty."
"OK, I can wait,” he said. “I can't leave here without you anyway."
We’ll see about that, I thought. I wasn't about to go back with him or anyone else. This was my home, and I wasn't going to leave it. Neither the UEA nor Earth Central had any authority here. Centioc One was an unclaimed, mostly uncharted world. It was the main reason why I had come. There was no way they could get to me here. Or so I had thought.
"Piss… off! Seven years, long time, you have no claim." I slammed down a paw for emphasis, the words coming easier now as my nanites got used to transmitting my thoughts again.
I watched him closely. In truth, my instincts wouldn't let me look away. He muttered something about “doing it the hard way” and gave a sigh. I cocked my head; he was obviously not used to dealing with a morphic with sharp hearing.
"It seems anger helps your speech, lil' bunny. Are the words coming easier now?" He was taunting me. I stared at him in disbelief. Wasn’t he just trying to get me medical help? My mind still wasn’t working right and couldn't decipher the sudden shift in his mood. "Under the Emergency Recall Act, we have the authority to reactivate you. Thanks to your conversion you are still healthy, young, viable and ready for a mission. Now, are you coming peacefully or do we have to use force? I’m willing to take a bet as to how far you can get before I drop you with my pistol. Don’t worry, it's only on stun." The bastard seemed to be enjoying this. He smiled at me the way a kid smiled before he ripped the wings off a fly.
"Piss on your damn act. This isn't Earth, nor is it an aligned world. For all intents and purposes it is uninhabited. Your law has no effect." I was making a quick recovery, and I inwardly thanked the gods of Nano Augmentation.
"Didn't you see the news?" The bastard was toying with me at this point. I looked up sourly at him as he continued to speak. "As of this morning this is an Earth-aligned world. We officially laid claim."
An Earth-aligned world? Whatever was going on was bad enough that they were willing to claim this entire backwater planet for the force of law. I suppose it didn't matter to them. Theirs or not, they could do what they wanted at will anyway. I had learned at least that much in my years of service to these bastards.
I looked up, crestfallen, beginning to feel the noose tighten. This was serious, I could not find any way out, and that voice in my head telling me to run was sounding more and more tempting. I felt trapped and scared. My thinking was still muddled. I was trying to make sense of this, but my mind kept flashing to a feeling of being trapped, being up against a wall, cornered. My heart was beating sickeningly fast, and I had to will myself to keep calm and not to run.
Sighing, feeling more and more defeated the longer this went on, I asked, "What do you want me to do?"
"Lieutenant, we want you to talk to the Mendians for us. We think your unique position will be valuable."
"I haven't spoken to anyone in years. Why would you even want me? What's so unique about my position? I was just an astrogator!"
"All I know is that they asked for you," he said quietly.
"Asked, for... me? Not possible! You must be joking...”
"Afraid not, and the rub of it is, we don't know why either. We need you to come with us, to help us figure it out."
"Well, what happens if I refuse?" I asked defiantly. "I’m not exactly up to helping your sort; what are you going to do if I just refuse to go along?"
“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” he replied flatly. “Look, I don’t want to be anymore nasty than I have been already.”
“Nasty? Is that what you call it? Coming to someone’s planet and dragging them off in chains! What happens if I refuse?” I demanded again. The anger flowed through the voice collar and I saw him take a step back. For all of his bravado he did not seem to be enjoying this.
"If you refuse you will be stunned, and transported Earthside where you will be tried for desertion and treason. You will get life imprisonment or worse, and you will never see a scrap of green again; we will make sure of it. You can either go easy, or say goodbye to your quiet little sanctuary." He almost snarled it out. "The choice is yours, go easy, or go hard. Either way you are leaving today. I'm sorry, but that is the message I was told to deliver. Those are my orders." Something in his eyes flashed. It almost looked like regret, but everything about him showed the work and the discipline of a professional soldier. It seemed obvious that for him, this was just business.
He unsheathed his pistol, a sleek model of black and chrome, with a green energy bar on its left side. He checked the setting and aimed it right at me. I felt my blood run cold and the rage build within me.
"You know it’s sons of bitches like you that were the reason I left in the first place! I've had a gun pointed at me before, but I suppose you know that. Does that gun make you feel big, mister?
"You may address me as Lieutenant Commander Charles Stevens. Are you coming or not?" he said flatly, my bravado having no effect.
I looked at the pistol menacingly. At that moment I hated him. Memories flashing through my mind, of that fateful day on the Danube. I scanned around, turning slightly, but he aimed more intently and said, “That is not advisable. I can make this easy for you. I know you aren't dumb. It’s obvious. You have to have some kind of brain to do all that math for astrogation. Come with me peacefully, help us work this out, and you can come back. In and out, I swear. You have my word as an officer.”
I felt trapped. Panic threatened to se
ize me. The instincts were so loud to run, it was agonizing beating them down, but no, I couldn’t. Couldn’t I? No! He had me dead to rights. The only way out was to cooperate, as odious a proposition as it was to do so. I had to play nice.
"Well, Lieutenant Commander, given my options, I suppose I have no choice. Give me a few minutes to pack. By the way, when you note this in your log, I expect you to document that this is under protest and against my will."
"Certainly, Lieutenant, as long as you’re coming, I don't care if you want me to document that you’re a pink unicorn. I will do everything I can to make this as pleasant as possible for you."
I was heartbroken, but I couldn't let them see it, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. As he left, I kept my composure until I let the doors slide closed. God dammit, this was a nightmare!
I remembered back to eight years ago, the first day out of the clinic. I had felt more free in that moment then at any other in my life. I ran my paws through the cool black dirt, and tasted my first sprigs of fresh grass and reveled in the joy of being a new creature, with a new life. I had sold my house and cashed out my pension to afford this shuttle and my passage out to Centioc One. I looked around at the dust-covered relics of a life that I had almost completely abandoned three years ago. Something deep within me still saw all this as valuable. After all, my nest was still right there, under the table, the blankets bearing a familiar shape. I stood in my sanctuary, my last refuge from humanity, and their hatred, greed, and violence. I had run beyond the stars to escape them, but I had not run far enough. Now they were going to drag me back, to serve them again.
I ran my paws over my old foot locker, something that had been with me since Basic and followed me home after my honorable discharge. Like everything else in my quarters, it was covered in dust. I kicked up a cloud of the choking stuff and sneezed again. Cleaning it off, I could see my old name in bright yellow letters. It read Dawkins, J. SN# 488-9292-6516. I had buried my old life and my past in this box, and now I was digging it up again. Struggling, I suppressed the old memories, determined not to relive the past.
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