The Complete Warlord Trilogy: An Aeon 14 Collection

by M. D. Cooper

Carl shrugged.

 

  Troy watched as Carl shook his head. The human didn’t believe him, but Troy knew Katrina. He’d spent years with her—back on High Victoria, and in the dark, searching for the Intrepid.

  She was a strong woman; she could weather anything. And if something had happened to Katrina, if she’d snapped, then Troy would figure out how to make it right.

  She’d saved him from the regolith of Victoria’s moon. Now it was Troy’s turn to return the favor.

  THE END

  THE WOMAN WHO LOST EVERYTHING

  THE WARLORD – BOOK 3

  FOREWORD

  Katrina’s story is one that came at the behest of fans who wanted to know more about what she went through before reuniting with Tanis.

  Though the events from the beginning of The Woman Without a World through to the end of this book only cover a few years of Katrina’s search for the Intrepid, they are the crucible that shaped her into a person quite different than the one who stayed behind at Kapteyn’s Star when the Intrepid left.

  In this book, we’ll see how she handles her new power as the ruler of the Midditerra System, and how that system handles her as well.

  It is hard for any of us to imagine what Katrina has gone through. She was raised by a sociopathic father who chased a ship of refugees for fifty years, just to catch her and kill her companions.

  She watched the people she sacrificed everything for eventually discard her after her husband died of old age, while she still had hundreds of years left to live.

  In time she found love again, but then lost it after a short while—a time where she suffered brutal torment.

  And now she is alone, in power, but without anyone she can trust to lean on. Katrina hardens her heart, wrapping herself in the armor of what “must” be done to preserve herself.

  Though it may cost her what morality she has left, and perhaps her sanity as well.

  M. D. Cooper

  Danvers, 2018

  THE COUNCIL

  STELLAR DATE: 01.29.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)

  LOCATION: Blackadder shuttle

  REGION: Persia, Midditerra System

  Katrina didn’t blame the canton leaders for not wanting to come to Farsa Station. She wouldn’t, either, if she were in their shoes.

  But that didn’t make her feel any better about taking a trip down to Persia’s surface; especially a trip that put her right in the biggest pit of vipers left in the Midditerra System.

  “You look worried,” Korin said from his seat across from her in the shuttle.

  Katrina gave a small nod. “A bit, yes. The cantons may not have the strength of the MDF or the Blackadder, but frankly, neither do we anymore.”

  “Yeah.” Korin glanced out the shuttle’s window at the world of Persia below them. “We lost a lot of ships on both sides—and I think the remaining MDF ships would just as soon wipe out the Adders as look at them.”

  “That’s why I’ve kept most of the MDF fleets in the outer system—even though we could really use their strength at Persia. If the canton lords—especially those who sat out the conflict—were to band together, they could crush what Blackadder vessels we have left.”

  Korin barked a laugh. “The day those dickheads all band together will be the day all the stars burn out. They couldn’t agree on what to order for lunch.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.” Katrina looked out the window at the growing world below them. “Hard to believe a system like this has a world like Persia. Place is like a paradise.”

  “If not for the people living on it.” He tried to appear nonchalant, but Korin’s tone belied the deep anger he felt for the cards life had dealt him.

  Persia had not been a paradise for him.

  Katrina decided to shift the conversation. “You know. I’d never been on a self-sustaining world around a G Class star until I woke up in Revenence Castle. We had a few nice worlds in Sirius, but the dog star does not cast a forgiving light. They had to use planetary rings to generate magnetic shields to keep the worlds safe. Victoria wasn’t even that nice. It was self-sustaining, but there’s something depressing about living in perpetual twilight.”

  Korin shook his head and gave her a wry smile. “Well, I’ve never been outside the Midditerra system. Stars, I’ve only been to the outer system twice in my life. With all you’ve seen, I’m—uh, nevermind.”

  Katrina was curious what Korin was going to say, but she suspected that not voicing it was the right choice. As far as she was concerned, her past was a mass of open wounds. The good memories seemed lost in the morass of bad ones.

  “Think they’ll all attend?” she asked, changing the subject completely this time.

  Korin shrugged. “Well, Lord Troan of Canton Selkirk will—what, with us holding the council meeting in his city. Let’s see, of the six cantons—other than Selkirk and the Blackadder—I expect we’ll see Marion from Kurgise; at the very least, she’ll want to know what your plans are. Canton Draus helped Jordan’s ships in one of the engagements, plus we used MDF ships to keep raiders off one of their outer system stations, so I think you can count them as friends—so much as anyone can here.”

  “I spoke with Lady Armis of Draus earlier in the day,” Katrina replied. “She said that she hates traveling to Selkirk—and Lord Troan in general—but is going to attend. I think at one point she was going to back out entirely, but I think she wants to see what my plans are.”

  “That’s likely going to be the prevailing sentiment.” Korin grabbed a bottle of water from the row of drinks tucked into pockets along the bulkhead. “Keep your enemies close, and all that.”

  “My sentiment entirely.” Katrina let a hard smile slip onto her face and saw Korin’s eyes narrow. “You don’t approve?”

  “I—honestly…I have no idea. Sure, it would be nice if everyone could just agree to get along. But I’m not stupid. I know that if you give any of those lords—even Armis—a meter, they’ll take a light year.”

  “Or they’ll drive a knife into my back,” Katrina added.

  “Yeah, not ‘or’, ‘and’.”

  The shuttle shuddered as it dipped into Persia’s atmosphere, racing over the western ocean. They were still a hundred kilometers up, and Katrina could see a breathtaking storm covering half the ocean, twisting its way east across the globe.

  Flashes of lightning flared in the clouds, visible even in the daylight as it leapt across the towers of moisture stretching up toward space.

  Katrina marveled at the beauty and considered that, even though humans could terraform planets, build massive stations, and construct nearly anything their hearts and minds desired, nature was still a wonder to behold.

  In all honesty, humans really just nudged things. Took asteroids and dropped their water on planets. Encouraged atmospheres, planted life.

  But they didn’t invent any of it—they just replicated their homeworld over and over again. Sure, the details changed, but by and large, humanity was a species obsessed with recreating Earth in as many ways as possible.

  Maybe it was all the more important now that Earth was a barren wasteland, destroyed by the Jovians in the Third Solar War in their vindictive hubris. There were, however, rumors that the AST was restoring humanity’s homeworld, removing the radioactive soil, resurfacing the planet so they could seed life there once more.

  Good luck, you bastards.

  Katrina had no specific dislike for the AST, but the people of Sol hadn’t batted an eye when Sirius destroyed the Kapteyn Primacy. Stars, they’d invited them into the Hegemony of Worlds not long after.

  Alpha Centauri, Sol, and Tau Ceti, the three oldest bastions of humanity, were now the heart of the most malicious empire the species had ever known.

  Katrina was just glad that Midditerra was over seventy li
ght years from their border. Traders from the AST passed through Midditerra, but they were thankfully few and far between.

  Star systems like Bollam’s World worried her a lot more. They were only forty light years away. The Bollers could have a fleet in the thousands already on the way to Midditerra; with the cantons in disarray, and the Midditerra Defense Force down two fleets, she would need to forge all the alliances she could.

  And then kill any who would not stand at her side. There was no room in her Midditerra System for dissenters.

  The shuttle continued to drop, and Katrina caught sight of one of the fighters escorting the shuttle in. It was a stubby thing with a fanged mouth painted on the front—though with the carbon scoring, it was hard to make out most of the teeth.

  There would be more of them out there. Jordan had dispatched seven of her best to come down with Katrina—not that the Adders had many fighters to speak of. Neither the MDF nor the Blackadder used a lot of single pilot fighters, or even NSAI drones, for that matter.

  Which was why Jordan had the Castigation following along high above. If anyone wanted to destroy Katrina’s shuttle, it would be the last thing they did.

  Though Katrina hoped deterrence would work better than actual violence, which was why four other Blackadder heavy frigates were bracketing the Castigation.

  It wasn’t a huge force, and there were hundreds of other warships near Persia—less than half of which were loyal to Katrina—but her five ships were filled with crews who had proven themselves time and time again over the past week. The blood on their metaphoric swords was a deterrent in and of itself.

  The shuttle eventually dropped into the clouds, passing through the storm with barely a shudder, the grav shielding protecting the ship from the storm’s buffeting winds. After a few minutes of darkness surrounding the vessel, they burst free from the storm, moving into clear skies, continuing toward the western continent.

  Katrina could see ships moving out from the seaports along the coast, returning to the fishing grounds now that the storm had passed. Beyond the coastal port cities were the rolling hills of Canton Selkirk, marching steadily up to the high peaks of the mountains that defined the region.

  Selkirk City was deep in the mountains, an urban city consisting mostly of towering spires that filled a broad valley between two major ranges.

  “Five minutes to touch down, Lady Katrina,” the pilot called back. “We have priority clearance on tower pad A4.”

  The shuttle slowed as it passed over the hills and then the first of the peaks that made up the Presidia Range.

  Katrina nodded absently as she stared out the window at the craggy mountaintops, most snow-capped and gleaming in the sunlight. Her HUD lit up, marking the locations of small towns and villages in the deep valleys, and she wondered what life was like for those people.

  Selkirk was a capitalistic canton. As such, it was wealthier than many of the others, but that wealth was distributed between the leading business owners. From what Katrina had learned, Lord Troan liked to pretend as though he was the preeminent canton on Persia, but in reality, he was beholden to many of his internal supporters.

  This made him weak and easy to exploit. All Katrina had to do was twist the knobs on Canton Selkirk’s imports and exports, and the titans of commerce would demand that Lord Troan win her favor.

  The break in the mountainous region came suddenly, the peaks falling away to reveal the Vale of Selkirk, a four-hundred-kilometer-long valley with a broad river running through it. Initially, the vale was lush and green, but it didn’t take long to move into the city—which consumed nearly half of the valley.

  There, tall spires of steel and gleaming glass stretched into the sky, some taller than the mountains around them. As they passed deeper into the city, the towers became denser and stretched higher, until the shuttle reached the tallest of them all: a skyscraper that reached over seven kilometers into the air.

  “Think Lord Troan is compensating for something?” Korin chuckled as the pilot slowed for his final approach, circling the tower to land on Pad A4.

  “Not sure why,” Katrina said, amused by Korin’s audacity more than the joke. “I hear a biomod can fix that pretty easily.”

  Korin snorted. “Maybe he got it made too big and doesn’t know what to do with it now.”

  Katrina made a gagging sound. “I just had the worst mental image—that this entire tower is just his modded penis that he’s showing off to the world.”

  “It may not have organic origins, but really, what else do you think this tower is?”

  He had a point, and Katrina gave a sad shake of her head. “Great. Now I’m going to enjoy this little tête-à-tête even less. I’m docking a day from your pay.”

  “Wait…” Korin flashed a grin. “I get paid for this?”

  “Funny.”

  The shuttle settled down, and Korin rose first, walking into the rear cabin to supervise the guards, who would secure the pad and the route to the meeting.

  Katrina rose and stretched her arms, reveling in the burning sensation that raced down her sides, her nerves crying out at the movement, just as they had throbbed from sitting on the shuttle.

  It was the price of her armored skin.

  There was nothing for it. The risk of going under to repair the damage to her body was too great. Even those she trusted—as much as she was able—could turn on her, if she gave them such an opportunity.

  Better to live with the agony; it wasn’t too hard to ignore, after days on end. Once the Voyager finally found Midditerra, she would use its medical facilities to make her body whole again.

  If Troy and the ship ever showed.

  Katrina said as she reached down and grabbed the nondescript case next to her seat.

  Malorie growled.

 

 

  Katrina walked into the rear cabin, noting that the soldiers had left the area in spotless condition, something she would commend them for.

 

  Malorie didn’t reply, but Katrina could feel the woman’s rage and malice flowing over the Link.

  Despite everything that had happened—the torture, the abuse—Katrina found herself liking Malorie more and more. The woman was resilient. A survivor, like herself. There was something powerful in the core of such a person that could not be easily dismissed.

  Jace, however, was just a greed-driven, murdering monster. A creature with no redeeming qualities, who deliberately destroyed people for his own pleasure. Malorie had done that too, but she had been somewhat kind to Juasa during their imprisonment.

  That counted for something.

  Despite the woman’s current condition, Katrina was still considering putting Malorie back in her place in Revenence Castle. She was skilled at running the sithri operation, and, right now, Katrina needed all the revenue she could drum up.

  If the sithri stopped flowing for too long, some other designer drug would fill the gap, and Katrina would have an uphill battle to regain Blackadder’s former place.

  The real question is in what fashion will she resume her place as the Lady of Revenence Castle, Katrina mused.

  She could have Malorie ensconced in the castle in her current form, just a braincase on a pedestal. Or perhaps Malorie could have a body. Maybe an automaton’s frame, or even something that appeared to be organic—if the woman learned to behave herself.

  Korin had been given
enough time to secure the landing pad; Katrina pushed her long coat back and checked the pair of pistols on her hips. She made sure they were loose in their holsters before stepping off the shuttle, into the bright Persian sunlight.

  The two-dozen soldiers—all Blackadder assault commandos—had secured the platform, and a team was moving into the building to check the hallway inside.

  Katrina nodded with approval before looking up to see two of the fighters circling high overhead.

  “Tight as can be up here,” Korin said before gesturing to a man standing near the building’s entrance. “Troan’s flunky there was a bit pissy about your soldiers going in first, but I told him it was our way or an orbital strike.”

  Katrina laughed. “You’ve been paying attention, Korin.”

  The man shrugged. “WWKD. What would Katrina do?”

  “Don’t take that too much to heart,” Katrina replied, rapping a hand on her armor-sheathed chest. “I’ve made a few questionable decisions of late.”

  “Yeah, well, I draw the line at intentionally having my skin torn off my body.” Korin gave a slight shudder as they walked toward the building’s entrance, four of the Adders falling in around them.

  “Well, if you recall, my skin was already half gone. You might have gone my route, if you were in that shape.”

  Korin shook his head. “I’d need balls as big as your breasts to pull something like that off.”

  “Well, balls typically don’t survive that sort of rapid operation.”

  Korin sucked in a sharp breath. “Noted. WWKD with the distinct exception of body mods. In that case, choose the opposite of WWKD.”

  “Good call.”

  They’d held the conversation in front of Lord Troan’s man, whose face had lightened in pallor as he waited for them to finish speaking.

  “Lady Katrina,” he swallowed after speaking the words. “You are most welcome in Canton Selkirk. You are in good hands here. There’s no need for so many guards, or the fighters above.”