by Rachel Aukes
The room erupted, just as Parliament had, only the officers soon found order and directed questions and concerns at Anders for the next three hours. After the questions evolved into conversation and opinion, Anders brought the room back to him by having assistants hand out thick packets detailing his plans and next steps for the CEF.
“I appreciate your insight and opinions. The Collective Exploratory Forces is here, regardless of what Parliament has to say about the matter. Tomorrow, each of you, as well as every active dromadier, has an individual choice to make: Remain serving the CUF and stay here within the Collective, or tour other star systems in search of new colonies as part of the CEF. Every dromadier will receive an announcement and packet outlining their options tomorrow morning.”
Anders rubbed his hands together. “Now, return to your ships and communicate what you believe necessary to your staff. While I’d prefer you to leave Parliament out of this, I have no doubts that they’ll soon learn of my actions. They will likely order you to prevent the CEF from proceeding with its mission, but I warn you, should you attempt to use force on Collective ships and citizens, retaliation will be swift and extreme. My efforts are to ensure the Collective has a future, and I will not let shortsighted politicians get in my way. Is that understood?”
Agreements came from most of the officers, though a few remained silent. Those were the ones Anders had expected to face off against. He stood. “You have a lot to think about and a lot to communicate to your crews. You’d better get started.”
As the room cleared out, Anders thought through who would join him in the CEF. Four of the officers were Founders, and another two were close friends, giving him enough leaders for the colony ships. Of the remaining sixteen, he expected a few would join his cause. His greater concern was the ones who’d side with Parliament and would consider using force against their own compatriots. The longer the colony ships remained within the Collective, the greater the danger they were in. That’s why he intended to have the colony ships depart the Collective within a week.
Thirteen
Cold Vengeance
Tulan Port, Playa
Reyne rocked in his desk chair as the call went through. His office still smelled of burnt metals, but it was at least functional once again. The air vent had a rilon grate over it, but he’d pushed a chair against it as well.
When the call picked up, Seda Faulk’s face appeared on the screen.
“Reyne, you’ve got perfect timing. I was going to call you shortly.”
“Do you know what happened to Max Laciam after the war?” Reyne asked bluntly.
Seda seemed taken aback, then regrouped. “Laciam? The Myrad who was Corps General?”
“That one,” Reyne said.
Seda rubbed his chin. “I believe he was quietly discharged after punching Corps General Anders. Why do you ask?”
“Because he’s here on Playa, and I think he’s trying to kill me,” Reyne answered.
Seda blew out a breath. “Well, I could see him blaming you for his fall.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Reyne said, exasperated that he’d told Sixx nearly the same thing. “Why does everyone think I’m to blame?”
“Because you didn’t surrender when he asked you to, which caused him to make a very poor decision that nearly got you and everyone else at Sol Base killed. If he’s come to Playa for you, be careful. Relations between the Alliance and Collective are still too bumpy. We can’t afford a citizen as well-known as Maximus Laciam getting killed on Alliance soil right now.”
“I know, but he may not give me any other choice.”
“Find another choice.”
“Trust me, I’ll do what I can, but if I have to choose between his life and mine, you know what I’ll do.” Reyne sighed. “Why did you say you were going to call me?”
“Oh. There are some big things happening in the Collective. I’m calling a meeting, and I need all the stationmasters there.”
“When?”
“In three days’ time at Nova Colony.”
Reyne frowned. “You need us to meet in person?”
“It’s important enough that I believe it warrants a face-to-face discussion.”
“Okay. I’ll head out right after I have a word with Laciam.”
Seda’s gaze narrowed. “Exercise caution.”
“I always do.”
Reyne disconnected the call and Seda’s retort. He leaned back in his seat, considering Seda’s words. What did Seda have to talk about that warranted bringing all the stationmasters together? They already spoke weekly as it was, and there’d been nothing unusual on the last group call. With no ideas, he turned back to his screen. No new messages from Throttle. His heart ached. While he knew the transmission delays would grow wider, a part of him feared something tragic had happened.
He shook off the stress. He had enough to focus on, and three days to reach Nova Colony was tight. He didn’t have time to dally. He tapped out a simple message to his crew: We go to Laciam at 0930. Meet at my office.
Affirmative responses came back swiftly. First Sixx, then Bree, followed by Boden.
He understood Seda’s concern about relations, but Seda wasn’t dealing with assassination attempts. Reyne thought long and hard about calling the local security forces, but they would be constrained by Alliance law in how they handled Laciam. And Reyne had no clear evidence that Laciam—assuming Mark Leonard was in fact Max Laciam—had tried to kill him.
If the night turned sour, Reyne trusted his crew, and only his crew, to handle the cleanup and cover their tracks. He armed himself to the teeth and waited for his crew. Sixx and Bree arrived first.
“Lily?” Reyne asked as they entered.
“She’s safe. She’s staying with a friend,” Bree said.
“Good,” Reyne said, and turned to see Boden stride into the office.
“How was your date?” Sixx asked with a crooked smile.
Boden grumbled something under his breath.
“Okay, everyone,” Reyne began, “here’s how this is going to happen. We’re going to stop by Mark Leonard’s residence to discuss a red flag on his file. Then we’ll play it by ear. Hopefully, he’s a good enough fellow to be honest. We arrest him if he’s Laciam and get him off Playa as quickly as possible. I spoke with Seda, and he really doesn’t want to have to deal with a dead ex-Corps General.”
“Did you tell him that you really don’t want to have to deal with someone trying to kill you?” Bree asked.
“I think I may have mentioned that once or twice,” Reyne answered.
“I think we’re on the same page,” Sixx said. “Can we go do this already?”
The group drove to the Collective residences, located a mile from the stationhouse. Night had come and brutal cold along with it. They still had nearly four hours until the “dead hours,” when no one would survive outdoors.
The residences had been built into the side of a dense hill in which the Collective had wasted no time laying its stake. The hill had natural caverns, making it easier and less costly to build out than many other sites. It also stood apart from the rest of Tulan Port, which Reyne suspected was the real reason the Collective had chosen the site.
With a guard post not yet established, they drove directly into the parking ramp and found a spot near a side entrance. Reyne scanned for cameras. He didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. The Collective had more advanced technology and could easily have discrete units already in place throughout its property. In this place, they’d have to play it safe and not do anything that could be misconstrued as Alliance aggression.
They entered the residences to find the hallway warm and well lit. The Collective had clearly seen to comfortable apartments before working on the docks and stationhouse. Reyne looked for a list of names and their residence numbers but found none.
“Names are listed on each touchpad,” Boden said, several steps ahead of the rest of the group, and motioning to a touchpad on the wall next
to a door.
Reyne frowned. “This could take a while.”
And it did. They covered three hallways before reaching a door near the end of another hallway that read M. LEONARD above its touchpad.
Reyne stood for a moment before casting a glance to each of his team members. “Well, here goes nothing.”
He tapped the keypad, and it lit up with a message that a bell was ringing inside the residence. They waited for a minute. Reyne noticed that both Sixx and Bree held their hands inside their coats. He had no doubt their hands were on guns already powered up to fire.
The touchpad chimed and instructions appeared on its gray surface. It read: For identification, press your hand on this pad.
Reyne lifted his hand, only to have it grabbed by Boden. “Let me,” he said.
Reyne stepped clear from the door in case its occupant started shooting the moment it opened. He understood Boden’s intent. Unlike the rest of them, Boden was a citizen and would be more likely to be seen in residences occupied by citizens, and it made sense not to have Reyne’s identity logged into the system. Of course, all of that was assuming their entire team hadn’t been picked up by cameras or microphones already.
Identity confirmed. Tren Boden. Alluvian, the touchpad read. It then chimed again, and the door opened.
Reyne tensed, expecting an attack. Instead, no one was there. Boden stepped into the doorway first and looked around. “I don’t see anyone,” he said and took a tentative step inside, then another.
Confused, Reyne followed. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Sixx and Bree entered, and the door closed with a whoosh behind them.
“I don’t like this,” Sixx said.
Reyne agreed. “Let’s get out of here.”
Bree pressed the pad next to the door. “It won’t open.”
“Let me.” Boden rushed toward the door. He pulled out a screwdriver and went to work on the touchpad.
A skittering sound emerged from deep within the apartment, and then the noise grew, like a thousand crickets suddenly trying to chirp over one another.
Reyne’s heart dropped, and he pulled out a gun for each hand. “Not again.”
The dark hallway before them seemed to move and sparkle as robotic eyes lit every surface. Bots poured out in waves from the ceiling, walls, and floor. There were hundreds of the spider bots as well as the larger, round turtle-like bots used for drilling. It looked like the entire bot arsenal from both Legacy Star crews was coming at them.
Reyne, Sixx, and Bree fired at the onslaught while Boden worked at opening the door.
The bots were so tightly packed together that every shot was a hit, though each bot’s central control system was such a small target within its hull that it almost always took more than one shot to take each one down. Reyne fired at a turtle bot and the shot ricocheted off its thick metal hull. These bots were designed to withstand tunnel collapses. Blaster fire did little more than leave scorch marks.
The long, spinning drills emerging from their fronts resembled jousting lances. Once the spider bots overwhelmed Reyne and his crew, it would take only a single hit from one those drills to finish them off. On the bright side, they would likely be electrocuted by the smaller bots before that happened.
“Boden, get that door open,” Reyne shouted.
“Working on it,” Boden yelled.
“Viggin’ bots!” Bree cursed above the gunfire as she fired at the faster bots.
Sixx kicked a bot across the room, but three more latched onto his boot. They zapped at him with their small torches, and he jumped back. “Yeow!”
The room had become hazy and stank of burnt energy from the blaster shots. Even with the constant barrage of gunfire, the swarm was less than three feet away and closing the distance.
“Boden?” Reyne shouted.
“Almost there!”
There was a bright flash of light and a loud zap! Reyne turned to find the door open and Boden lying on the floor.
“Let’s go! Reyne yelled.
They spun. Reyne and Sixx grabbed Boden’s limp form, and the team sprinted into the hallway. Bree tapped the touchpad to close the door, but it remained open.
The bots poured out of the apartment and into the hallway.
“Run!” Reyne commanded.
They ran.
Along the hallway, a door opened. “What’s going on out here?” a grumpy citizen asked while standing in his doorway. When he saw the bots, his eyes widened, and he disappeared back inside his residence.
Bots now flooded the hallway. Reyne and Sixx carried Boden while Bree fired at bots behind them. More doors opened. Most of them closed quickly when the occupants saw the battle taking place in the hallway.
They turned a corner and plowed into a woman. She fell.
“How dare you!” she scolded.
Bree went to help her up, but the woman yanked her hand away upon seeing Bree’s weapons.
“Get up,” Bree told her.
The woman didn’t. By the time she saw the bots, it was too late. Already on the floor, they covered her within a second. She screamed as they shot electrical currents into her.
Unable to help, Reyne and his team turned away to see Simon Tate running toward them. His terrified expression was focused on the woman. “No!”
Simon tapped his wrist comm, and suddenly all the bots halted, their lights dimming until they went dark.
Reyne and Sixx came to a halt, still supporting Boden, who moaned. Bree drew up alongside.
Reyne raised his blaster at Simon. “You had the off switch ready to go on your comm. That’s awfully convenient.” He tacked on for his team, “Looks like we’ve found our assassin.”
“Worst assassin I’ve ever met,” Sixx said.
Simon tore his gaze from the convulsing woman on the floor and turned his face—full of pure hatred—onto Reyne and his team, focusing on Sixx. “You…you did this.”
Sixx chuckled. “Me?”
“Betts!” a man cried out and approached the fallen woman. Two more people entered the hallway and rushed to assist the woman. The first arrival went down to his knees and started knocking bots off the fallen. As he worked, he asked, “What happened?”
“You tell me,” Reyne said. “We stopped by to pay Mark Leonard a visit and were attacked by your construction bots.”
The newcomer frowned. “I’ve never heard of a Mark Leonard.”
“Ah,” Reyne said. “Let me guess. There’s no Mark Leonard on this crew. His records were a ruse.”
“These can’t be our bots,” another said. “Our bots stay at the job site.”
“And I’ll bet that you’ll be short a whole lot of bots tomorrow,” Bree said.
Hadley came running down the hallway, wearing a robe. She looked over the scene, then looked from Simon to Reyne. “What happened?”
“These colonists turned our bots against us,” Simon said. “They released them in our residence hall.”
“Good try, fella,” Reyne said before turning back to Hadley. “I bet you can do a quick search to see who last programmed these bots.”
“Give me a moment,” Hadley said as her fingers flew over her wrist comm.
Meanwhile, Reyne holstered his blaster and tapped out a call to the local security forces. Boden groaned and then tried to stand on his own, but Sixx kept an arm around his friend.
“You okay there, buddy?” Reyne asked.
Boden nodded weakly. “That door gave me one hell of a jolt.”
Hadley looked up and frowned at Simon. “Your credentials are the only ones logged on all the bots tonight. What were you trying to do, Simon?”
“Someone could’ve hacked the code to plug in my credentials,” Simon retorted. Even he didn’t sound convinced.
“I’ll have techs run full diagnostics to verify the system wasn’t hacked,” she replied.
“Also have your techs run scans to see who created Mark Leonard’s file,” Reyne said.
“Who’s Mark Leonard?”
someone asked.
“He’s no one,” a woman said as she cautiously approached.
Hadley turned to the assistant. “Melody?”
Melody shrugged. “Mark Leonard was a test user I created for a system upgrade.”
“System upgrade? I wasn’t told about a system upgrade,” Hadley said.
Melody nodded toward Simon, who had put several steps’ worth of distance between him and the others. “Simon asked me to, and he thought it’d be funny to use ex-Corps General Laciam’s picture.”
Hadley snapped around to face her counterpart. “Simon, was it you who sent Legacy Star bots against Stationmaster Reyne in his office, and again, tonight?”
Simon tensed. “No. I never sent them after Reyne.”
“Simon,” Hadley cautioned, “I will not help you if I learn that you lied to me.”
Simon scowled and turned to Sixx. “You were supposed to be in the office.”
Reyne froze. “All this time, you were after Sixx, not me?”
Simon gritted his teeth.
Sixx chuckled. “I hate to repeat myself, but you are, by far, the worst assassin I’ve ever seen.”
Hadley put her hands on her hips. “Simon Tate, you must face consequences for releasing bots in our own residence halls.”
Simon waved her off. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! The stationmaster was supposed to send his chief of security to investigate Leonard. No one else was supposed to have been there.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Hadley said. “Why in the worlds would Aramis send someone to investigate one of our crew, and one who doesn’t even exist, at that?”
Reyne’s sighed. “Because he wanted me to believe that Mark Leonard was Maximus Laciam, and that it was Laciam who was trying to kill me. Simon created the avatar to throw us off…and then used it again to draw us into a trap.” He turned to Simon. “Your plan had potential, but it also had way too many holes and even more risks.” He motioned to the woman on the floor, who’d begun to show hints of life.
