Fringe Runner (Fringe Series Book 1)

by Rachel Aukes

  “They’re all dying, aren’t they?” she asked.

  Reyne spotted the tears running down her cheeks. He took a seat and leaned heavily on his elbows. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Because of us?” Her question was soft, tentative.

  Reyne leveled his gaze upon her. “No,” he answered firmly. “None of this is because of us. This is because the powers that control the Collective are playing gods. Darios fell because it’s the most valuable fringe planet. Playa is falling because it’s the least valuable.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t understand it all yet myself. But I do know that whatever is happening was planned long before we ever found that damn package.” He took a deep breath. “Get some rest. You’ll need it. I’ll wake you when Boden and Sixx return.”

  She didn’t say anything else as she rolled off the bridge and down the hallway.

  He sat there and stared out the window, every cannon blast echoing in his heart. He had been born in Ice Port and had spent the first seventeen years of his life there.

  His heart swelled every time he returned home from a run.

  Home.

  He began to wonder if he’d have any home left after the bombing.

  The slaughter raged for hours, and Reyne kept himself busy contemplating Vym’s words and the relationship she’d had with the CUF officer.

  Demes entered the bridge and handed the tablet along with a computer coin to Reyne.

  “I was able to ghost it and get you a copy, but the data is still encrypted. I can’t break it without my tools on board the Honorless. If I can get to my tools, I can break the encryption.”

  “Then, I guess we need to get you to the Honorless,” Reyne said before shooting the pirate a wry look. “Listen, Demes. I don’t entirely hate you, so I’ll make this clear. I know you’re working for Critch every minute of every day, and I know that you’ll see that he gets a copy of this the instant the jammers clear out of Playa’s airspace. If he’s serious about making this Uprising work, he needs to see it, too. However, if I find out you’ve decrypted this tablet and given that data to Critch and not me, I’ll drift you. Got that?”

  Demes nodded tightly.

  The port door opened, and Sixx and Boden entered, bringing a cold breeze with them.

  “The ship’s refueled and the launch pad is booting up. I’m charging the tug now.”

  Sixx gave a dramatic shiver. “It’s colder than an Alluvian wench out there.”

  Boden’s brows rose at the mention of his home world.

  “A Myrad wench?” Sixx offered.

  “Wimps,” Reyne said. “We’re in a cavern. There’s hardly any wind in here. Hell, I’ve gone for jogs outside in colder weather than this.”

  “That’s because you’re a Playan, and everyone knows Playans are abominable snowmen,” Sixx muttered.

  Reyne gave him a droll stare before hitting the comm to broadcast to the entire ship. “Crew meeting in the commons now.”

  The group of four headed to the commons. Once Sixx pulled off his coat, he frowned at Demes. “What are you doing here?

  “Crew meeting. I’m a crewmember.”

  “You’re not one of the crew. Go hang out with your buddies in the base.” Sixx jerked his thumb toward outside.

  Demes shot Sixx an overly wide grin. “Tell them, cap.”

  Sixx turned to Reyne, who shrugged. “Demes is serving as our tech until we get him back to his pals on the Honorless.”

  Sixx shook his head, turned to the cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

  “I’ll have a drink of that,” Demes said.

  Sixx ignored him and took a long swallow. He sat down and then warned, “You can’t trust a pirate, Reyne.”

  “You were working with pirates when I met you, Sixx,” Reyne said.

  “That’s why I know you can’t trust them,” Sixx replied.

  “All right,” Reyne said after Doc and Throttle arrived. “It’s time to talk.”

  Reyne began. “Ever since the Genics Corp contract, we’ve been set up, lied to, threatened, and shot at. That changes now.”

  He held up the tablet. “I believe this holds the secret to the success of the Uprising as well as retribution for Ice Port and Sol Base.”

  Utter silence.

  Then, Boden pounded his fist on the table. “Whatever your plan is, I’m in.”

  Reyne held up his hand. “Hold on. You don’t know where I’m going with this yet.” He paused. “We know the CUF is fractured. Vym’s working with at least one CUF warship commander. In fact, she asked me to meet with a particular dromadier officer. And, I told her I would.”

  The room broke out in an uproar.

  Doc crossed her arms. “We don’t work with the CUF.”

  Reyne tamped down the air with his hands. “I already said I’d do it, but I admit it’d be a lot easier if I didn’t have to go it alone.”

  “If you think it’s the right thing to do, then I’m in,” Throttle said.

  “I trust your instincts,” Sixx said. “We go where you go. Especially if it’s dangerous.”

  “I’m in,” Demes said.

  “I already said I was in,” Boden grumbled.

  “You know I’m always with you,” Doc said after things quieted down. “But, I don’t like the sounds of this.”

  Sixx pulled out the raindrop pendant he wore. “In case you’ve forgotten, we already signed up. We’re all in for the long haul.”

  Reyne scanned the faces in the room. Warmth filled his chest as he realized he had the bravest, most loyal crew in the universe. “Okay, then. I guess our next step is to figure out a way to meet with this commandant without getting blown to bits in the process.”

  “That sounds like an interesting challenge,” Sixx said.

  “But, hold up,” Reyne continued. “We’re not going anywhere until we’ve scraped every bit of intel on that tablet. That’s where our handy tech comes into play. Demes here has made a copy of the data, but it’s encrypted. So, as soon as the CUF clears out of Playa, we’re going to bring the Honorless down here, where he can decrypt the files for us.”

  “How’s the Honorless going to get here?” Demes asked. “The Coast is sitting behind a CUF armada right now.”

  Reyne chuckled. “If Critch can’t get past a few ships, I’ve thoroughly overestimated him.”

  “Didn’t I just say you can’t trust a pirate?” Sixx asked. “I’m surprised our boy here hasn’t decrypted and sold the data already. What’s going to keep Critch from killing all of us to keep from contacting this CUF officer?”

  “Because Critch wears one of these, too.” Reyne tugged out his necklace. “If Vym is out of the picture, he’s going to need all the help he can get, even if it means working with both the traitor of Terra and a CUF warship commander.”

  “What if he changes his mind?” Sixx asked.

  Reyne threw a quick glance at Demes. “Then, one of us will die, because I won’t let anyone get in the way of Ice Port’s retribution.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Truth in Words

  The bombing didn’t stop until long after dark, deep into the dead hours. Reyne tried to ignore the phase cannons by keeping busy, but every blast made his breath catch and his heartache. When the bombardment finally faded, he stood and waited for more. For never-ending minutes, he waited. When hope filled him that the hellfire raining down on Ice Port was finally over, he hustled to the bridge.

  Throttle was napping. Demes was busy working, and Reyne worried what secrets the tech was sifting through now, but he brushed past the pirate and to his captain’s chair. Immediately, he scanned the Ice Port channels for chatter, but the smothering silence meant that the drones were still in place.

  And so the waiting game began.

  *

  Three days later, the drones finally pulled out from Playa’s orbit, and the static replaced the silence on all channels. Unfortunately, there was nothing but static. No calls for hel
p, no search crews, nothing. Reyne repeatedly tried to reach Vym, with no success. He sent a message to Kason, who he hoped had stayed on Alluvia after United Day, but had still to receive a response.

  The only good news was that Demes was able to get word to Critch, who would reach Ice Port in less than two days at jump speed.

  And so the waiting game continued.

  *

  When the Honorless landed at Tulan Base, it filled up the expanse. For a moment, Reyne considered the possibility that the ship would never make it through the cavern entrance, but the all-black ship sailed through with a few feet to spare on each side. It taxied and parked alongside the Gryphon, dwarfing the smaller gray ship.

  Demes jumped from the station he sat at in the control room and stood alongside Reyne and watched the ship power down. Reyne could sense the excitement rolling off the young pirate. “Go on, get those files decrypted.”

  Demes jogged outside toward the Honorless, meeting Critch and several crewmembers as they emerged. They stopped and spoke before Demes continued to the pirate ship.

  Reyne waited until Critch reached the building, and opened the door. “Welcome to Tulan Base.”

  Critch stepped inside and looked around, and Reyne could tell the man was trying to figure out how he hadn’t known that a base this size existed. He shot a look at Reyne. “You could’ve killed Demes and kept this place all to yourself.”

  “I could have, but that wouldn’t fit in my plans.”

  “I assume the torrents I left in your care are still breathing?”

  Reyne nodded. “They’ve been helping get this place up and running. Most of them are decent workers. Right now, they’re in the lower levels, freshening up the living quarters. They like to stay where it’s warmer.”

  “They’re used to worlds that have ten times the temperatures of Playa,” Critch said. “It sounds like you’re setting up to play house here. While I’ll admit it would make an excellent smuggler’s dock, what exactly do you plan to do with this base?”

  Reyne motioned around him. “Welcome to the Uprising’s Playa base of operations.”

  If Critch’s thoughts matched his expression, he didn’t believe Reyne. “You believe in the Uprising now?”

  “Always have.”

  Critch watched him for a moment. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t bring me all the way here just so Demes could use his gear?”

  “You’re right, though I won’t know if your trip was worth it until Demes is done decrypting the files. We have some time to burn.” Reyne nodded in the direction of the Honorless. “I’m guessing a ship that size has at least one hovercraft for getting around the surface.”

  “You haven’t been to Ice Port yet,” the pirate said, a hollow intonation to his voice.

  Reyne swallowed. “We wanted to look for survivors, but we don’t have any ground transport. That’s one thing sorely lacking in this base.”

  Critch shook his head. “Don’t bother. There aren’t any survivors. We scanned the surface from orbit.”

  “Most of Ice Port is below ground. You wouldn’t pick up heat signatures.”

  The pirate’s lips thinned. He may have frowned, but his features were hard to make out through the scars. “It wouldn’t make a difference.”

  Reyne stood firm.

  He sighed. “No one drives my lander except me.”

  “I’ll have my crew show your men around while we’re gone,” Reyne said. “They’ll help you refuel. After that, they’ll put your crew to work. There’s plenty of stuff around here that still needs done.”

  Critch grunted, turned around, and headed out the door.

  Reyne followed him to the Honorless, up its ramp, and on board. He unsnapped his holster, ready to draw his gun the moment the man tried something. Once he entered the ship, his step faltered. The Honorless wasn’t just a pirate ship. It was a state-of-the-art spacecraft that looked every bit ready to go to war. The hallways were lined with weapons and gear. “I take it you don’t get stopped by CUF patrols often.”

  Critch kept walking. “They’re easy to avoid if you know what to look for. Even stealth can be tracked with the right sensors.” He opened a thick door and headed down metal stairs.

  Docked within the belly of the ship sat a hovercraft easily as large as Vym’s. It was set up differently, though. Instead of rows of seats, the back was a large flatbed, making it ideal for smuggling.

  Critch climbed into the pilot’s seat and buckled in. Reyne had barely climbed onto his seat and shut the passenger door when the engine started and the craft lifted off the floor. Critch hit a button, and a ramp door on the Honorless opened. The pirate wasted no time in taking the hovercraft down the ramp and onto the runway.

  Reyne held on and buckled in. They didn’t speak as they burst out from the base and into daylight. Reyne looked over to see the pirate glowering. “You hate me that bad, huh.”

  Critch turned a hard eye on Reyne. “I don’t hate you. I see you as a risk to the Uprising. The same way that bioterrorist attack was a blight on Sol Base, Aramis Reyne is a blight on the fringe. You are a reminder how a single man was able to take down the Uprising.”

  Reyne turned away. He’d received various levels of animosity across the fringe for the past two decades. Most, he could brush off. But, Critch had been his best friend at one time. A man he’d taken under his wing because he’d seen a reflection of his own passion in that man’s eyes. Critch’s candor was like a broken sword tip burrowed deep in Reyne’s heart.

  “I hated you once,” Critch added. “When I learned that you gave up our location, and I had to watch thousands of men and women get slaughtered. Eventually, I realized you taught me a valuable lesson. You taught me that no one could ever be trusted, no matter how close they are to you. I have to hand it to you, Reyne. You were a damn good actor. You had me fooled that you believed in the Uprising.”

  “I believed in it as much as you did. I still do.”

  Critch chuckled in a way that made it clear he didn’t believe Reyne one bit. “I should be thanking you. That lesson helped make me the richest pirate in the fringe.”

  Reyne pursed his lips. “I don’t want to waste my energy looking over my shoulder all the time because I can’t trust you. I’d rather spend my energy on something productive. The Collective has treated colonists like scum for too long. I plan to change that, even if I have to fly right through the space barrier and bring the fight to Myr’s doorsteps. You and I made a good team once, and I know that it will take both of us, united, to give this new Uprising a chance. I’m asking for a second chance to work together so we can see that the Uprising is done right this time around.”

  Critch chortled. “I’m a pirate. We don’t give first chances, let alone second chances.” He pondered his next words. “But I’ll give your proposal some consideration.”

  “You do that,” Reyne said. He could make out Ice Port on the horizon, and he leaned forward. The horizon had changed. Where the massive space docks had climbed into the clouds, a pile of twisted metal and stone lay.

  Ice Port had few structures above ground due to its extreme weather, but there were no signs of those buildings now. Even the slopes of the caves and caverns that sheltered the city’s stores and homes lay collapsed into the ground. “No wonder they bombed the colony for so long.”

  “They wanted to be thorough,” Critch said. “Viggin’ CUF.”

  As they approached the city, Reyne could make out no sign of civilization from the rubble. No stationhouse, no streets, no entrances to the cavernous underground. Anyone who survived the bombing would’ve died from exposure by now.

  Critch slowed down, but the scenery never changed. The utter destruction was worse than anything Reyne had ever seen during the first Uprising. The CUF had wiped Ice Port completely off Playa.

  Reyne found it hard to breathe through the heaviness settling in his chest. “Let’s head back.”

  *

  Demes was waiting for them on the Honorless
when they returned to Tulan Base.

  “Tell me you got it,” Reyne said curtly.

  Demes glanced at Critch.

  “No,” Reyne said, his hand on his holster. “You’re showing both of us the data. Now.”

  Demes’ eyes widened, and he shot another glance to Critch.

  “You heard the man,” Critch grumbled. “Show us.”

  The young pirate led them to his bunk. Technology components were scattered all about the floor. He sat down at his cluttered desk. “There’s a lot of data here, and I’m not sure how useful it is. I’ve decrypted it all, but much of it is in code-speak. Messages to and from some group Stationmaster Patel was involved with. They called themselves the Founders. They all went by strange names. She went by the name Seamstress.”

  Reyne furrowed his brow in confusion. He turned to Critch to see the pirate just as confused. “That’s what Vym was hiding?”

  “It can’t be tied with the original group. They disappeared centuries ago,” Critch said.

  Reyne leaned forward. “Demes, are you sure that’s what they called themselves?”

  “Yeah, sure. The most recent message was from the day of the Ice Port attack.”

  “I always had my suspicions,” Reyne said. “It would explain a lot of things.”

  Critch took a deep breath. “Well, Reyne. It appears we’ve both been played.” He then turned to Demes, who was watching the captains with an inquisitive expression. “The Founders was an organization even older than the Collective. They were wealthy Alluvians and Myrads who fancied themselves puppeteers, pulling strings to shape the Collective how they saw fit. After the War, when the CUF was formed, they were hunted down and killed. Evidently, they weren’t all killed.”

  Reyne mused, “If they still exist, would they be our allies or our enemies?”

  Critch motioned to Demes. “What’s the data say?”

  “Well, you’d better pull up chairs,” Demes said. “It’ll take a while.

  *

  Four hours later, Reyne and Critch stood in the pirate’s quarters, having left Demes with instructions to begin running searches to see if he could track down the identities of other Founders.