Messenger

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Messenger Page 1

by Diesel Jester




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  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

  EPILOGUE

  Messenger

  A Jaegers of the Consortium Novel

  by

  Diesel Jester

  Jaegers of the Consortium Series:

  Shadow

  Cheyenne

  Messenger

  Messenger: A Jaegers of the Consortium novel

  Copyright © 2018 by Diesel Jester

  All rights reserved.

  Printed and bound in the United States of America.

  Steam Paperback Edition: October 2018

  Steam is a division of Kennebec Publishing, LLC

  For all my sisters; step, in-law, adopted, or otherwise.

  Don’t let your older brother corrupt you too much…

  “For he shall give his angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.”

  -Psalms: Chapter 91, Verse 11.

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to John G. Hemry (AKA: Jack Campbell) for his insights into the model and rules set that he used for starship combat and how they could be applied to airship combat.

  Thank you to my beta readers:

  Crystal Larkin

  Sabrina Hootman

  Thank you to my beta editors:

  Lady Katheryne

  Julia Hennagir

  Thank you to my cover models who agreed to do the photoshoot:

  Thomas Dean Willeford

  Amy Wilder

  Cover photography by:

  Chad Geist, Omni Lens Studios

  And thank you to all of my family, friends, and fans who waited for so long for this book!

  CHAPTER 1

  In the 83rd year of the Consortium…

  Lucilla “Lucy” Spence, Baroness of Alpharetta, hummed quietly to herself as she moved around the dressing room, unpacking her valise for what she expected to be a lovely and relaxing weekend in Atlanta. At twenty-one, and unmarried, she seldom got the chance to have unchaperoned time. Well, unchaperoned as long as you didn’t count the vSlave her bother insisted go along with her at all times to handle the financing of her activities. Eddie never trusted her with things, especially something as important as money. Despite that, she was determined not to let her family’s rules, or societal etiquette, ruin her stay in the city. The Georgian Regis was the grandest hotel in all of Atlanta, if not the entire Theocracy of Dixie, and that was a treat to be savored.

  She was just stowing her parasol when a tall, red-haired woman brandishing a beamer suddenly burst through her front door and into the dressing room. Giving a startled squeak, Lucy spun around and swung wildly at the intruder with the parasol. The woman laughed, dodged the swipe, and pointed the beamer at her.

  “Down on the floor, now!” she commanded.

  Seeing there was no other choice, when bringing an umbrella to a beamer fight, Lucy sank to the floor. She scooted back as much as her corseted dress would allow. Doing the only thing her frantic mind could conjure, she flicked the locking mechanism on her parasol, hoping that somehow the silk and lace would miraculously stop a beamer bolt. The slight metallic click was followed by a soft schooop sound as the parasol opened to form a makeshift shield. Lucy, though thoroughly terrified, laughed at the ridiculousness of her situation.

  The smug redhead called over her shoulder. “Got her! Dressing room next to the bedroom, come straight in from the front door!”

  She then smirked down at Lucy. “My mother always said that it’s bad luck to open an umbrella indoors.”

  “It’s a parasol, not an umbrella,” Lucy retorted without thinking and then blanched when the intruder laughed at her.

  Two men, followed by a blonde vSlave walked in. “Well, meet our big, badass, criminal mind.” The redhead gestured down at Lucy.

  “No,” said the tall, dark man who was clearly leading the others. He shook his head. “There’s more to it than just this.”

  Lucy risked a peek from behind her parasol and saw that he was examining her with questioning dark eyes.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, his tone surprisingly calm and gentle.

  “L-Lucy... Lucy Spence. I’m the daughter of Count-Reverend Edward Spence. Please... please leave! Please don’t hurt me. I-I’ll call security and the Consortium on you!”

  “We are the Consortium, honey,” the second man said. He pulled opened his duster. There, where his left breast pocket would be, Lucy saw a bronze star set within a silver cog. The silver ID plate underneath read Jaeger Deliverer.

  A Jaeger? Here? Why? Lucy thought in alarm. “But — I haven’t done anything wrong!” she protested.

  “Eddie’s little sister?” the vSlave girl in the doorway asked, the shock evident in her voice. “Are you in on this, too?”

  Lucy peeked farther around the edge of the parasol to get her first look at the vSlave. Oh my Lord, Lucy thought, is that who I think it is?

  “Charity?” she asked, confused as to why the eldest Carmichael daughter, and fiancée to her own brother, was here. “In on what? Eddie said things were tense at home, so he sent me here to the city for a week while he went around taking care of business.”

  Eyes narrowing, the dark-haired man with the cane looked at Lucy. “Where’s your servant, the man who’s been seen with you whenever you’re in public?”

  “Esmond? He’s downstairs, taking care of the bill. He handles the finances when I come into Atlanta.” Lucy frowned.

  “What?” Charity asked, sounding furious.

  Lucy’s eyes went wide, and even the men seemed shocked as Charity lunged her way. The mysterious man grabbed her around the waist and held her back as she cried, “You lying little trollop! Esmond works for my family!”

  “What — what are you talking about?” Lucy’s eyes were big, and she held her parasol even tighter.

  “He has been ever since your family sold his contract to us. Eddie loans him out from time to time, but he still belongs to us.”

  Still holding Charity, the man whirled toward Deliverer and the redhead, jerking his thumb back toward the elevators. “Get him,” he said, and they both nodded, rushing from the room. “Okay, Miss Spence,” the dark man said, offering his free hand to Lucy. Charity was quieting, and he let her down, but kept a hand on her arm. “How about we go into the sitting room and try to sort this out, hmm?”

  Lucy looked up at him, down at his hand, and back up again. “My brother said that I shouldn’t talk to anyone without him, or Esmond, or our family’s attorney present. For — for propriety’s sake.”

  The man sighed, and pushed a hand through his black hair. “Fair enough,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “We can have a call put in to the Spence family attorney, and you can tell them you’ve been arrested on suspicion of fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny. They can collect you at the Consortium regional office here, downtown. I’m sure your family will be delighted to come bail you out. You’ll be the talk of the town for months.”

  Lucy’s shuddered. The scandal would be unbearable and she wouldn’t be allowed to enter the courting season this coming fall alongside her own new fiancée if such a thing happened!

  The man smiled. “Fret not, the trial won’t take long. We have enough evidenc
e and eyewitness statements to put you away for a good long time. And a woman like you? So young? So beautiful? You’ll be very popular in the prison system as a comfort girl. Or, you could opt into iron-slave status, and go to some crusty, old gentleman at the public auctions. Up to you.”

  He was silent for a moment, and then held his hand out for her, gently. “Or, you can come to the sitting room with me, right now, just for a minute, and answer my very simple, very informal questions without my having to officially charge you. What do you say?”

  That was far worse a fate than a mere scandal. She could not bear the thought of being forced into slavery in such a way. Seeing no other solution, Lucy drew her chin up, and looked him stoically in the eye. “The sitting room would be preferable.”

  With as much grace and dignity the situation would allow, Lucy let the man help her to her feet and escort her to the sitting room.

  “When did you make yourself blonde?” Charity asked once they were seated. “You used to have really pretty red hair.”

  Lucy looked at the collar around Charity’s neck, then away. “Must she be here,” she asked with a hushed voice. “I don’t want to say this in front of a slave.” She’d always been taught that slaves talk, and did not want information leaking out, former aristocrat or not. She didn’t know why Charity wore a collar now, but it didn’t matter.

  “What?” Charity gasped.

  “Well, you are wearing a collar now, strangely enough. That means you’re — ”

  “My slave, not yours,” the man cut in. “And my call. Answer the question, please; I’m intrigued, now that she’s mentioned it.”

  “Oh, alright,” Lucy lowered her eyes. “Earlier this year, I think it was right before Charity came back from University, Eddie mentioned how much better I would look if I were a blonde and so I decided that I’d try it out for this season.” Lucy patted and fluffed her hair. “I think it looks good on me. What are your thoughts on this, Mr.… oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t catch your name?”

  “No, you didn’t,” the man said. “So, you never ques-tioned the fact that you look remarkably like Charity here from a distance? Nor was it suspicious to you that a house slave, formerly belonging to the Carmichaels and often on loan to them, suddenly became your escort for whenever you were in Atlanta?”

  “Why would it be? It hardly matters where a slave comes from,” Lucy said. “Is it not the same where you live?”

  Lucy had never been allowed out of the Theocracy, nor did her homeschool education ever allow her the opportunity to read about life in other nations.

  “Let’s just say that we don’t make it a habit of buying slaves from someone and then leaving them in the house we’d just purchased them from.”

  “Esmond had been with the Carmichaels for years prior to us buying out his contract. There was no sense in moving him from where he was.” Especially if we were going to join with said family when Eddie marries Charity, Lucy mentally added.

  “Excuse me if I maintain a bit of skepticism, here,” the dark man said.

  All three of them turned to look at the front door of the suite when Esmond suddenly walked in, interrupting them.

  “Esmond!” Charity exclaimed as she shot to her feet.

  Esmond’s eyes went wide when he saw her, and he began to turn and run, but was instead backed into the nearest wall as Charity advanced on him.

  “Tell me that you were not a part of this! Tell me this was all just a big mistake! Tell me that you were not stealing my money, my family’s money!” Charity cried out.

  Esmond’s mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish, visibly shocked by her presence and her parasol now pointed at him like a sword.

  The dark man grabbed her and pulled her back before she got the idea to run Esmond through. “Easy, dear, let’s see what he has to say first.”

  “I want to know the truth! Why are you betraying us?” Charity cried out, struggling in the man’s grip. “We trusted you! We took care of you! Why?”

  Esmond opened his mouth to speak but then inched back toward the doors. When Deliverer and the redhead came busting back in, he slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry, Miss Charity,” he said, head bowed in shame. “I had to do it. But, only to pay off my debts! To get out of indentured servitude! My brother promised me I would be freed if I went along with Mr. Spence’s plan. The Baron wanted to ruin your family and bring them into the Spence household as servants.”

  “And who’s your brother?” Jaeger Deliverer demanded, positioning himself next to the man. He fished a pair of handcuffs from the leather pouch on his thigh and proceeded to cuff the man.

  “Ambrose Wain.”

  “Oh, this keeps getting better,” the dark man mused. “Alright, take him and Lucy down to the Consortium offices and put them in lockup.” He pointed at the two of them. “Cooperate fully by helping us bring down Eddie and Ambrose and we can try and get you a deal. If not, you’ll be prosecuted right alongside them.” He looked at Deliverer. “Get them out of here.”

  “Are you going to take their statements?” Deliverer asked.

  “No,” the dark man shook his head. “You do it. I have bigger fish to fry. Read him his rights and get him processed.”

  “With what charge?” Esmond asked, aghast.

  “We’ll go with theft, embezzlement, and obfuscation of fund movement for starters and work our way up from there.”

  “You heard the man,” Deliverer said, turning on Lucy and Esmond. He pointed toward the door. “March.”

  As she was herded out the door by the Jaeger alongside of her family’s slave, Lucy leaned in toward Esmond. “What have you and my brother done?” she deman-ded.

  “I’d be quiet, if I were you,” the redheaded woman said.

  “And you are?” Lucy retorted.

  “None of your concern,” Deliverer interrupted the whisperings. “Esmond Wain, Lucy Spence, you both are hereby under arrest on the charges listed by Consortium official Lucas Wolverton just now. You both have the right to remain silent as anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. As this is a matter of the Consortium, you both have the right to contact your country’s consulate for advice and/or an advocate. If your country cannot or will not provide an advocate, and you cannot afford one yourself, then one will be appointed to you by the Consortium to represent you during questioning. Do you understand these rights as they have been dictated to you?”

  “Yes,” Esmond said with resignation.

  “Wait! The dark man in there… er… Official Wolverton was it… said that I was just going to give statements,” Lucy said in a near panic, her breathing accelerating. She started to feel faint.

  “Do you understand these rights as they have been dictated to you?” Deliverer repeated.

  “Y-yes,” Lucy stammered before being led away.

  ***

  “Henry Tandey, Old Calendar of 1918 at the height of the Great War,” Gabriel McKibben, the Messenger, said as he clicked the slide that depicted a British Private of the time period. He was addressing his class in the Atlanta Consortium Academy, and stroked his sandy-colored beard as he paced in front of the theater. “Considered by many to be the first Jaeger after he single-handedly held down a position near Marcoing, France against advancing Germans. He stayed his hand against one German Lance Corporal who was mortally wounded in the firefight and even rendered this man aid. Now, we do not know the name of this German or what he would’ve become, but we do know that Tandey went on to serve the rest of the war in a hunter fashion, systematically taking out opposing forces while at the same time rendering aid to the fallen.”

  Gabriel clicked to the next slide, the cog-and-star symbol of the Jaeger Corps in which he served. “That’s what it means to be a Jaeger: You will be the Consortium’s military arm to bring justice to those who oppress the weak, while at the same time offering the hand of mercy to those who are unable to fight back.” He lifted a single finger to emphasize his point as he quoted. “‘He
will bring into judgement both the righteous and the wicked, for there will be a time for every activity and a time to judge every deed….’ Ecclesiastes Chapter Three, Verse Seventeen, from the One Book that is held dear here within the Theocracy of Dixie. Only it will not be the Lord’s judgement that you bring down — it will be the Consortium’s.”

  While his students took notes, he saw someone motioning from the door to his left. It was Hector Murphy, and by his stern expression, this was going to take up the rest of his time today.

  Gabriel acknowledged him with a nod, and then turned back to his class. “Chapter five for tomorrow — ‘End of the Great War and Geneva Intervention.’ That’s all for today.”

  The students collected their things and filed out while Gabriel went over to his boss, who was patiently waiting by the door. “What’s up, Goliath?”

  Hector, head of operations in Atlanta, handed him a dossier and motioned for him to follow. “I need an advocate for a case. No one from the Theocracy will touch it,” he said without preamble as was his normal way of operating. “Rich daughter of the Theocracy is being brought in with her manservant for questioning. He already has an advocate, but she doesn’t.”

  “That’s weird…,” Gabriel muttered, glancing over the notes. “Esmond Wain… iSlave to… are you fucking kidding me? The Spences? Seriously?” He eyed Hector, wondering if this was a joke.

  Hector nodded solemnly. “Esmond is the brother of one of the most influential Directors of Banks here in Atlanta and knows family secrets that can bring both families down. He was given the Wain family advocate first while the daughter is being hung out to dry. The Spence family advocate is already being tasked to the eldest family son in anticipation of his arrest.”

  “Which daughter…?” Gabriel flipped through the dossier until he came to the information. He stopped in his tracks. “Oh… God….” The eyes of his old flame… his old fiancé, no less stared back at him. He’d buried Lucy Spence’s memory into the distant past and now here she was, returning to his life again. “Oh, Lucy… what did your family do this time, girl?” he wondered out loud.

 

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