The Fringe Series Omnibus

by Rachel Aukes

  Seda glanced up with drug-filled eyes. He was pale and sweaty. “Hell of a fight, huh?”

  Reyne forced a smile as he and Critch lifted the man from his seat.

  Seda grimaced. “Leading from the shadows is far easier on one’s health.”

  “It is.” Reyne looked outside in the direction of the Citadel. “But I’m glad you stepped out of the shadows to do what needed to be done.”

  Fifteen

  Hard Lessons

  Reyne and Critch took over Seda’s hangar lounge so that they could apprise Heid of the recent events and their current predicament. She wasn’t too happy, to put it mildly.

  Heid’s exasperated sigh came through the screen loud and clear. “We’ve got the Arcadia. We can be there in four days. It’s foolish to let a warship sit rusting out here when you need help on Terra.”

  Critch growled. “The Arcadia is no match against the armada Ausyar is sending to Terra as we speak. They’ll get here long before you will. The moment you’d drop out of jump speed, they’d fire everything they have at you. You’d get yourself killed, and we’d lose our best weapon against the CUF.”

  She pursed her lips. “Is that me or the Arcadia you’re talking about?”

  “Take your pick,” Critch replied.

  “Then, let me call my friends in the CUF. Over a third of the fleet is loyal to Alluvia, not to Ausyar. If I make the call, they may be able to turn the tide.”

  “When it comes to allies, we can’t count on ‘maybes’,” Critch countered.

  “Critch is right,” Reyne said. “If any other CUF officers support us, they’ll likely demand us to openly pledge allegiance to Alluvia. The fringe may be aligned with Alluvia in wanting to stop Myr’s power play, but everyone knows that Alluvia will step right into any power vacuum left by taking down Myr and the fringe will be no better off than we are now.”

  “In the colonists’ eyes, there’s no difference between Myr and Alluvia,” Critch added. “They would just see us trading two overlords for one. At least with two, we all believe they temper each other’s power bids somewhat.”

  Reyne nodded. “Whatever we do, our goal must always be to free the colonies from Collective oversight.”

  “Alluvia will never support that,” Heid said.

  “Then, they’re our enemy, too,” Critch said.

  Heid frowned. “We’ll fail without their help.”

  Reyne shook his head. “If we can’t trust Alluvia, we can’t ally with them. Not yet, anyway. The Uprising was always about the fringe, so we start there. It’s time to announce our intentions. If we don’t, then the CUF will simply spin whatever story they want, and I guarantee it won’t make us look good. Heid, do you still have your news contact on Alluvia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can she get a story out on the Collective News? One that can’t be edited or retracted?”

  “She can, but she’ll likely lose her job over it. The story better be good because it’ll likely be the only one she’ll be able to broadcast.”

  Reyne nodded. “Understood. I’ll send you the script later today. Keep us posted so we can be ready for the aftermath. Tell your friend if she can pull this off, we’ll do our best to protect her.”

  Heid cast him a sideways glance. “You know as well as I do that none of us can protect her on Alluvia.”

  “Well, then she’ll need to get herself to the colonies where we can help her,” Critch added.

  Heid gave a tight nod. “I’ll make sure she understands, though I must say that we’re running out of room at Tulan Base, what with all the recent refugees from Nova Colony.”

  “That should be a temporary situation,” Reyne said. “Now that Terra has shown her claws, Ausyar will be done playing with the Coast. He’ll bring his armada to Terra.”

  “Did Aeronaut have any updates on how much blight Ausyar still has and if he’s planning on using it?”

  “No news on that front,” Reyne said. “Though, I believe Aeronaut made a new enemy with Mason with the stunt he pulled last night.”

  “That’s not good. We need him in the Founders.”

  “What’s the status on the specters?” Critch asked, growing impatient.

  “They’re all accounted for. The Delilah is docked here right now for repairs, and the Ocelot is here to pick me up. The others scattered after bringing in the refugees, per our original plan. But every single one of them is ready to head to Terra the moment you make the call.”

  “I know,” Critch said. “Tell them to hold tight.”

  “I need to get back. The Ocelot is running and ready for launch. I’ll be offline for the next ten days to resolve the matter we discussed earlier. Tell Aeronaut I’m glad to see he’s finally stepping up to help, but he should’ve done that a long time ago. Then we wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in now.”

  When the screen went blank, Critch spoke. “I don’t think she’s Seda’s biggest fan.”

  Reyne nodded. “Definitely not, but she took the news better than I expected. Far better than Throttle took the news when I told her I was better off staying on the surface for now rather than trying to make a run for it. I think the only thing that kept her from coming down here was sending her and Boden out to cover Heid’s back.”

  Critch chuckled. “Funny, Gabe was more than happy to stay on the Honorless and leave me down here.” He sighed. “Boden, Grundy, and Burl should be back on board our ships by now.”

  “Let’s hope the CUF doesn’t decide to start running patrols around the moons.”

  “They won’t waste resources going after the one-offs. They’ll focus everything they’ve got on us poor saps down here on Terra.”

  Reyne rolled his head to release tension. “We’ve been relying on luck for too long. It was bound to run out on us sometime.”

  “Speaking of luck, here comes someone who seems to never run out.”

  He turned to see Seda enter the hangar lounge. He was walking slowly and gingerly, but he was in one piece—upgraded with a rilon arm.

  “He gets a new arm, and I can’t even get a damn wrist comm,” Critch grumbled.

  “I’ll have a tech bring a comm for you later today,” Seda replied.

  “It’d better be a Lotus G600 model with all the possible upgrades,” Critch responded.

  “I assumed as much.”

  Reyne nodded to the stationmaster’s arm. “How’s it feel?”

  Seda moved it and winced. “It still feels like I’m lugging a lead weight around, but I suppose I’ll get used to it. The doctors prefer to wait three days before attaching prosthetics; however, I thought it was in my best interest to have it attached immediately, considering the CUF will likely remove me from office and seize all my assets before then.”

  “You think they’ll pin the Citadel on you?” Reyne asked.

  Seda took a seat. “I’m sure they’ll try, but they won’t find any proof.”

  “You sure that shiny new arm of yours isn’t proof enough?” Critch countered.

  “This?” Seda lifted his arm a couple inches. “Didn’t you hear? I lost my arm when the EMP hit Rebus Station and my cruiser crashed. The story’s already in the news. It was a tragedy, really. That was my favorite cruiser.”

  Reyne’s brow rose. “You’re pretty quick at weaving stories.”

  “It’s my job.” Seda waved him off. “Besides, I’m not worried about the CUF. They can claim my assets—at least the ones they know about here on Terra—and I’ll just disappear with a new identity. The bigger risk is Mason. His reach is farther and deeper than the CUF’s. He’ll do his best to see that I’m removed as a threat. He’ll first create a reason for me to be on the CUF’s watch list to make it harder for me to move around. Then he’ll strike. I’m on a short timetable to build a defense strategy. This Citadel situation may have prevented me from leaving Terra today, what with all the interviews I have to give. I need to get off world to pick up my associates before Mason gets to them.”

  “While you’re
doing that, we need to get a Terran base of operations up and running,” Reyne said. “We can’t just sit around and wait for the CUF to find us.”

  “Use the hangar. The only way they’d discover this location is through pure luck,” Seda said.

  “It’s not your hangar I’m worried about the CUF finding,” Reyne argued.

  Seda cocked his head. “Ah, you’re talking about Broken Mountain. The tunnel entrances have all been hidden. My quarry companies set up gravel piles and other camouflage in front of each entrance. As for the mountain itself, the entire Collective believes its tunnels were destroyed twenty years ago. The people are safe in the tunnels as long as they want to stay there.”

  “The challenge is, we can’t make them stay there,” Reyne said. “For any who want to leave, what do we do? If we force them to stay there, we’ve created another prison.”

  “We can’t use the mountain as our base of operations. If we do, we may as well bring our own caskets,” Critch said. “Having a single base is what caused us to lose the first Uprising. We need to be on the move constantly, working from multiple bases. Like Tulan Base on Playa. Like this hangar. The mountain can be used as a refugee camp, but it can’t be one of our operating bases. Everyone stays there at their own risk.”

  “I support that strategy,” Seda began, “but it’ll take time to set up the infrastructure throughout the Collective. More importantly, we need to plan for every possible scenario. If we don’t have escape routes, it’ll be too easy for us to be cornered on a single planet, like what’s happening right now. As for this hangar, it doesn’t have any kind of defensive systems. Other than the holographic cover I needed for the Raptor, this is just a private airstrip. Nothing special.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call this just a private airstrip,” Critch said as he looked out into the hangar, where all the cannons and guns were laid out after being stripped off the Raptor.

  “Having multiple bases is necessary,” Reyne said. “It will take planning and someone with connections across the Collective.” He turned to Seda.

  Seda held up his hand. “Planning like that takes years. It takes networks, trades, and compromises.”

  “You have a strategic mind.” Reyne’s said, carefully watching the stationmaster. “Which is exactly why we need you in the Uprising.”

  “It’s no different than what you’ve already been doing. Just now, you’ll be doing it in an official capacity. No more shadow games,” Critch said.

  Seda frowned. “Any successful strategy always has shadow games. However, yes, I will help.”

  Critch walked over to a cabinet in the lounge and pulled out a bottle of Terran whiskey.

  “How’d you know I had that there?” Seda asked.

  Critch gave a small smile. “To the Uprising.” He took a drink and handed the bottle to Seda. “Though I prefer a good bourbon any day over whiskey.”

  Seda ignored him and held up the bottle. “First strategy is to come up with a better name. There are too many negative emotions associated with the past.” He drank and passed the bottle.

  Reyne took the bottle. “How about the Fringe Liberation Campaign?”

  Critch grimaced. “That’s not a good name at all.”

  Seda shrugged and grabbed the bottle back. “Who knows? It could stick. To the Fringe Liberation Campaign.”

  Sixteen

  Floodwaters

  It was well past time they returned to Broken Mountain, though everyone dreaded it.

  Reyne, Critch, and Seda left the hangar in a holo-cloaked sport vehicle. Sixx, Birk, and Hari rode along to provide protection from the Citadel refugees. Reyne found that the idea that they may need protection from those who’d once served as torrents in their army left a sour taste in his mouth.

  But he had to remind himself that a lot had changed since the Uprising.

  The vehicle pulled up to where a tunnel entrance had stood twenty years ago. Now, all he saw was the rocky side of a mountain. The driver held out a remote, the rock lifted, and Reyne realized it was a manufactured wall designed to blend into the surrounding terrain.

  “I can see why your quarries haven’t been profitable,” Critch said. “You’ve invested in some high-end gadgets.”

  “Gadgets and ships have always been a passion of mine,” Seda replied. “Any time I can dabble in them without the Collective’s peering gaze, I find it more pleasurable.”

  The tunnel before them was a dark maw, threatening to swallow anyone who dared enter. His heart beat faster as memories resurfaced of nights of driving—sometimes running with a fallen comrade draped over his shoulder—into this tunnel following a battle or reconnaissance. The Uprising had left him with claustrophobia; he disliked entering the tunnels as much now as he did back then.

  He supposed some things hadn’t changed since the Uprising.

  As they entered the large tunnel, Hari scrolled through her wrist comm, filling them in on the current situation. “About a third of the freed prisoners fled on foot rather than taking the transports to the tunnels. We’ve made no attempt to track them down or help them. We expect most who fled will likely be caught by the CUF patrols and killed, but our hands are already full with the ones who’ve accepted our help. For the refugees under our protection, we logged 12,698 in the tunnels, but twelve died overnight—one suicide, two cardiac arrests, and nine from injuries sustained during or after their escape. We’ve set up medical units, psychiatric units, control units, and isolation units for those needing help.

  “The rest are in the general population, split among the tunnels. All the bathrooms and cafeterias are running at one hundred percent, but we’re maxed out in the bunks since that project hadn’t yet been completed. As anticipated, we’ve had unrest and acts of violence, but in general, things are going as well as can be expected. However, we anticipate a tepid response to your arrival. Most of these people are worn out from years of mental and physical abuse, and being back in the mountain seems to have made them very edgy.”

  Critch eyed Reyne. “I better take the lead.”

  Reyne grimaced and gave a nod before lifting the cloth up from his neck to cover his mouth and nose. Rather than wearing the itchy cloned skin, he had chosen to wear a shemagh to tour the mountain. Cloned skin would simply be a stopgap to bide time, but if he was going to be a leader he had to reveal his true face to his torrents sometime.

  Everyone unloaded from the vehicle, and Reyne eyed the rifle Sixx carried. “Try not to look aggressive. We want to keep everyone as calm as possible.”

  “Good luck with that,” Sixx said.

  “Some may try to kill you,” Critch added.

  Reyne nodded. “I know.”

  Seda added, “I still recommend that you let them acclimate to freedom a bit longer before you meet with them.”

  “We have forces maintaining control in the tunnels who will be watching out for you,” Hari said. “However, should you encounter any life-threatening situations, run back to the vehicle. Tax will stay with it while you’re inside.”

  “We’ll be fine. Anyone going after Reyne has to go through me first,” Critch said, and walked forward.

  They headed down the tunnel, walking straight toward the largest room in the mountain’s system. It was a room they knew well. They’d briefed many missions here. The noise and smells of a large number of humans increased as they drew closer. Sixx tightened his position next to Reyne.

  The moment they entered the cavernous room filled with people sitting on blankets, standing in place, or walking around, silence fell and everyone turned.

  “It’s Marshal Drake Fender!” someone shouted.

  Critch raised his hand in recognition without a hitch in his step as they continued toward the center of the cavern.

  “Marshal Fender!” another yelled. “We knew you’d come for us!”

  Reyne noticed the hint of pride that flashed across Critch’s face at the mention of his real name, and suddenly he was pulled back two decades to when he and Critch
led the torrents side by side—many of the same people—right here in Broken Mountain.

  Very few paid any attention to Seda, which meant there must not have been news screens in the Citadel or else they’d all recognize his face. Those who did recognize Seda bowed their heads in respect, a sharp contrast from how many of his other counterparts were seen.

  The six of them stopped in the center of the room.

  Hari scanned the room with her comm. “There are roughly 3,500 people in here. The others are spread throughout the tunnels and in the units.”

  “It’s a start. We’ll hit the larger tunnels, and news will spread,” Critch said, and waved a hand through the air to silence the room. He spoke loudly, his hard voice echoing off the walls. “You’re free. The Citadel is done.”

  Everyone cheered.

  He waved once more, and the room hushed. “You are free to stay here in the mountain for as long as you like. The CUF has no idea that these tunnels have been rebuilt by our friend here, Seda Faulk, stationmaster of Rebus Station.”

  Several cheers erupted for Seda, and Seda nodded with a polite smile.

  “You are also free to go. No one’s going to make the choice for you. I know staying in these tunnels is hard for those of you who’ve been here before. I know it’s hard for me to be in them again. If you choose to leave, Stationmaster Faulk has guidance.”

  Critch turned to Seda, who stepped forward to speak. “We have been working to bring down the Citadel for some time, and we didn’t have everything in place yet. I ask for your patience as we get a better support network set up for you. Within two days, we’ll have a relocation unit established that will help you reconnect with your families and homes without drawing CUF attention. However, I highly recommend you stay in the tunnels for the time being for your safety. The CUF has implemented martial law and is hitting Rebus Station hard searching for escapees, and we’ll keep you apprised of any major changes. I’ll see that news screens are brought in so you can follow the news as well. I warn you that the Collective fully controls the news, so remember that when you see how the stories are spun. If you choose to leave on your own, contact someone wearing a blue armband and they can arrange transportation for you to a location where there are no CUF patrols. In the meantime, welcome to Broken Mountain.”