Fatal Extraction
The Chikara Revolution: Book 1
Evangaline Rain
Contents
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
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Fatal Extraction
Evangeline Rain
Copyright © 2019 by Evangeline Rain. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
Cover illustration © 2019 by Julie Nicholls
Edited by Cissell Ink
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
To my husband, Shane
For your love and support
Chapter 1
Nirvana sauntered into the room, willing herself to maintain her calm facade. The room was devoid of furniture, except for a tall, ominous-looking metal chair in the center of the room.
“Sit,” the guard ordered.
She sat down, crossed her legs and leaned on the back rest lazily. She rested her hands on her lap and stared ahead with a bored expression. It was too late to panic. Besides, if they really wanted her dead, they would have blasted her ship to oblivion instead of going through the trouble to capture her. Her only concern was her crew of six, who’d been separated from her when they were captured.
The guards exited the room, and the lights went off as the door closed. The wall in front of her flashed with a myriad of colors before settling to white; a dark-skinned man with short grey hair and a beard appeared on the wall. His droopy, heavy-lidded eyes made him look deceivingly laid back, but the coldness in his gaze warned Nirvana that he was not to be trifled with.
As if it mattered.
“Kerimar Dein,” she greeted him condescendingly. “It’s not every day I’m received by the General of Panderon and his formidable battle fleet. To what do I owe this honor?”
“Nirvana Faust,” he said, a muscle twitched on his otherwise impassive face. “You stole from me.”
Nirvana frowned, “I’m an honest merchant, General. You must be mistaken.”
“I do not make mistakes with three thousand pieces of proton blasters,” he said between gritted teeth.
“Do you have evidence?”
A video recording appeared at the side of the wall, showing Nirvana and her crew, holding guns, and Dein’s workers carrying the crates into her ship, Marian.
“How is this a crime? I see a peaceful transaction taking place.”
“I did not approve of this transaction.” He adjusted the video to show a different scene. “You boarded my transport craft illegally.”
“I don’t see any signs of violence or struggle…”
“Enough!” Dein slammed his clenched fist onto a table and glared into the screen with his cold, flinty eyes. Clenching his jaw, he snarled, “These recordings are evidence enough to prosecute you.”
“Ok.” Nirvana shrugged her shoulders, feeling smug that she had managed to get a reaction out of him.
“With your capture, my reputation will be restored.” He straightened his body and crossed his arms, thrusting his chest out. “It can now be said that no one gets away with stealing from Kerimar Dein.”
She sniggered and shook her head slightly. Clamping her lips together to rein her laughter in, she raised her hands and clapped slowly for him.
Dein narrowed his eyes at her. “The penalty for piracy is death.” He looked at someone behind the camera and angled his head slightly. The previous video feed switched to something else.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw six battered-looking men bound onto wooden crosses. She couldn’t make out their faces, and all the men were bald so she couldn’t identify if they were her crew based on the physical attributes.
A soldier walked up with a burning torch and proceeded to light the pile of wood at the bottom of one of the crosses. The man was too weak to struggle, but when the fire started burning his feet, he opened his mouth and gave out a soundless cry of agony.
What kind of archaic madness is this? Nirvana frowned. This was unexpected. Nirvana had studied Dein before robbing his shipment. This behavior did not match his profile. He fought wars the “honorable” way—no harming of civilians, no sneak attacks, no chemical warfare, like free-range farmers who would consider the welfare of their animals before slaughtering them for food.
The reaction of the man in the video relieved her. All her crew members, including herself, were fitted with suicide mechanisms in their bodies. Her crew would have activated them before being burnt.
Dein must want something from her. He did not activate fifty of his most elite space force to lie in ambush, waiting to trap her as she exited warp speed, just so that he could have the satisfaction of executing her in the most painful way possible.
She leaned back onto the chair and stretched her legs. “If there’s something you want from me,” she said in a bored tone, “you can cut to the chase and skip the threats. They don’t work on me.”
Suddenly, the wall-screen blacked out and the lights in the room flickered on. A handful of armed soldiers entered the room with a long, transparent, upright tank—a Portable Cell Unit (PCU).
“Hands out,” ordered a soldier holding the MagRes, Magnetic Restraints, while the rest aimed their barrels at her.
Nirvana stood up slowly and smiled at him. There was one way to find out if they were planning to take her to the execution chamber or interrogation room.
After the soldier snapped the MagRes on her wrists, she took her time to saunter towards the PCU, taunting the soldier into shoving her to get her to move faster. When he tried to do it again, she dodged nimbly and held out her foot to trip him.
The soldier stumbled and crashed onto the floor; she braced herself for the bullets to rain on her, but to her surprise, the other soldiers just continued to point their gun barrels at her instead of firing.
Her gamble had paid off. Dein must want her alive because in most circumstances, they would have shot her immediately.
Nirvana wore a cocky grin as she stepped into the PCU. The soldier scrambled up from the floor and stormed towards her. She was prepared to fight him off but instead, he took his ange
r out on the door and slammed it shut. The PCU sealed shut with a hiss, engulfing her in complete darkness. She forced herself to meditate and focus on regulating her breathing; she could feel the claustrophobia setting in.
She had gotten out of worse situations before; she’d get out of this one, too.
Chapter 2
The PCU came to a stop, and the door hissed open. Nirvana had to shut her eyes against the blinding light and slowly open them to get accustomed to the surroundings.
She was in a room, and from the way it was furnished, it looked like a personal office. It had a working desk, digital organizer, couch, coffee table and a mini bar at the side.
“Come out,” ordered the soldier she’d tripped earlier.
She looked at him for a moment, contemplating if she should remain in the PCU just to ruffle his feathers. Just then, the door at the back of the room slid open, and Dein entered. He was bigger and taller in real life. Maybe because he was large all over, so on screen, when only his upper body and face were featured, he gave the impression he was stubby.
“Remove her MagRes and leave us,” he said, walking to his desk.
The soldier scowled at her while he did as told. He then joined the rest of the soldiers, saluted Dein and left.
The moment the door closed, a blue film surrounded the walls of the room.
“Sound lock,” Dein explained. “And yes, this locks us in too. Just in case you’re having ideas, they have my heart rate monitored. The moment my heart stops, your crew will be executed.”
Nirvana had many ideas—the sound lock and heart rate monitor were not going to stop her—but she was curious to see what game he was playing.
“Take a seat.” He gestured at the couch and walked to the mini bar. “May I offer you a drink?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
She didn’t respond, but he poured her one anyway. He walked over and placed her drink on the coffee table.
This was bizarre. A moment ago, he was threatening to execute her in the most painful way possible, but now he was giving her whiskey. Still standing inside the PCU, she gave the drink a jaundiced eye and turned her gaze back to him.
Dein took a sip of his drink and sighed. He dimmed the lights in the room using a control pad and activated the projector beside him. The holograms of the planet Chikara and her ruler, Chorax Hayashi, appeared above the coffee table.
He pointed to the holograms. “I’m sure you know that two years ago, Chikara had all her twelve continents unified under Chorax Hayashi. I have information that Hayashi is amassing a large army and building weapons of mass destruction. Since we are the planet closest to Chikara, I have reason to believe he is planning to invade Panderon.”
Nirvana huffed. Dein’s transport vessel, which she robbed eight years ago, was carrying proton blasters to help Hayashi in his bid to conquer all the countries on his planet. How the tide had turned.
“Your interception of my blasters caused a misunderstanding between me and Hayashi,” Dein continued, “especially when you sold them to the very people he was fighting. I had to send another shipment to convince him that I was a victim of piracy.”
Bet you’re regretting kissing his ass now, she thought.
“The odds of him winning the war were higher. I thought I could secure a trade agreement with him should he emerge as the winner. The previous leaders were difficult to negotiate with, and they changed all the time.” He was trying to justify his actions as if reading her mind.
“You got your trade agreement?” she asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why would he want to ruin your good relations by declaring war?”
“I have very reliable insider information.”
“Who may be trying to stir shit between the both of you.”
Dein pressed a few keys on his control pad. The hologram of a stronghold formed before her eyes. “This is Hayashi’s stronghold in Asago. The very one he is residing in. My informant is a high-ranking officer who had recently defected. I believe in the authenticity of his information.”
Nirvana couldn’t help but frown in surprise. This was interesting, a defector from Chikara. She stepped out of the PCU to take a closer look at the hologram.
“According to my informant, Hayashi keeps all his military plans locked up in the server room here.” He highlighted a room. “If you can infiltrate his stronghold and get the plans, I am willing to buy them from you.”
“You think too highly of me. I told you, I am but a humble merchant.”
“Five million.”
Wow. He must be desperate. She raised her brows at him and asked, “Why didn’t the defector give you the plans?”
He took a sip from his glass and set it down. “The plans were still in discussion when he left. He only had records of the massive amount of resources that Hayashi was suddenly amassing from all over the planet. He also didn’t have enough security clearance to access the plans.”
“What makes you think I have the skills to extract the information you want from a highly secured room in an impenetrable stronghold?”
“You are the only pirate who has gotten away with robbing Hayashi’s ships repeatedly over the past eight years.”
“Rumors.” She shook her head. “Besides, I am no pirate. I keep telling you I’m a humble…”
“Faust,” Dein growled, reaching the end of his tether. “I don’t have time for your games. You’ve sabotaged Hayashi’s weapon shipments so many times over the last eight years that he placed a five million credit bounty on your head. That is proof enough.”
He had a point. Nirvana sighed and sat on the couch, “You could turn me in and become five million credits richer.”
“I would rather spend five million preventing a war.”
Nirvana crossed her arms and leaned against the couch. She needed some time to process the information.
“You are a vigilante, Faust. You’ve made a name for yourself in the war-torn areas on Chikara, bringing food, water, medicine and even weapons to the civilians. You’re hailed as their hero, even though the Chikara news reports you as a pirate. You could have led a rebellion against Hayashi but you didn’t.”
Because it was easier to operate small scale. She trusted her crew of six, and she liked to keep things simple. She didn’t think she was capable of leading an army, but she could do as much as she could to help the defenseless.
“If I refuse?” she asked, undecided if she wanted to trust everything Dein had just told her.
“Then I will make a recording of your execution, together with your crew’s, and send it to Hayashi, in hopes that it will further enhance our mutual goodwill and change his mind about invasion.”
“Why are you so afraid of him? Your army can take his any time.”
“Every life lost to that man’s insanity is a life too many. I would like to avoid a war if I can.”
She reached over to take Dein’s glass of whiskey and drank, feeling the liquid burn its way down her throat. The wily fox had struck a chord.
“What I’ve been doing is child’s play compared to what you’re asking of me. This is a fatal extraction mission. Honestly, I don’t think I have the ability to infiltrate his stronghold and extract the information you want.”
“In that case, you just have to find a way to smuggle my informant into Chikara and use your expertise to help him find a way to penetrate the stronghold undetected.”
Interesting. The idea of meeting the person who had successfully escaped the clutches of Chorax Hayashi intrigued her.
“What if this informant is setting you up for something else?” she had to ask. “Why would he defect and risk his life to go back again, just to help you extract the information?”
“He is invested in the well-being of Panderon, that’s all I can divulge. The rest you’ll have to get from him.”
“Three million as down payment,” she said. Dein looked at her in shock. It was triple the amount she usually charged, but since it was a
do or die kind of thing, she might as well go all the way. He ruled an entire planet. He could afford it.
“You’re giving me a job which could potentially force me into retirement, if I’m being optimistic. There’s a high chance I’ll end up in Hayashi’s hands. I would like some compensation first for taking that risk.”
“You talk as if you’re prepared for this mission to fail.”
“I wouldn’t bother taking it if that were the case. Would have just taken the easy way out.” She pointed two fingers at him, with her thumb sticking up, emulating a gun.
He gave her a look that told her he wasn’t amused, so she pointed her fingers at his glass of whiskey and bent her middle finger.
The glass shattered, whiskey spilling all over the side table.
“Oops.” She puckered up her lips and blew on her fingers. Damn it hurt, but at least she got his attention.
Dein quickly bent over to take a closer look at the remnants, snapped his head around and glared at her, “How?!”
“Special powers.”
Using the same fingers, she pushed her glass over to his side and taunted him, “You can have this. I’ll go pour my own drink.”
Nirvana had to force herself to walk to the bar as calmly as possible because her index finger was burning. She had implanted a dart gun in both her index fingers for emergencies. It seemed frivolous to use one dart just to show off, but she needed to hammer the point home with Dein.
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