Prisoners of Darkness (Galaxy's Edge Book 6)

by Jason Anspach

  “Pick ’em up or leave ’em,” chided a guard.

  Owens decided he’d rather have them. If the guards were looking for an excuse to kill him, they’d find one. He might as well die in style. He bent down and groped in the darkness with two outstretched hands.

  A brittle plasteen crunch sounded as someone stamped a foot down just inches away from where Owens was reaching around.

  Of all the rotten, no good—

  A flood of lights came on, causing Owens to blink in pain. His vision returned, and he saw the blue stump of a bare foot standing on top of his ruined shades.

  Seven-hundred-credit shades.

  Owens visually followed the stump up an armored leg and to a broad torso. He saw dangling, icicle-blue tendrils resting on the being’s chest and then locked eyes with an ugly, scowling Gomarii. The creature’s head was thick, with a broad forehead and two jet-black eyes. Somewhere behind the tangle of arm-like tendrils that hung from its face down to its chest was a round maw covered with pointed teeth.

  What were Gomarii, a notorious species of slavers, doing on a Republic prison planet? A multitude of potential answers sprang to Owens’s mind. None of them gave him happy feelings.

  “Welcome to the synth mines of Herbeer, Legionnaire,” announced a guard. “You’re fed when you work enough. Cause trouble and you’ll wish you didn’t live to regret it. Oh… and stay out of the abandoned shafts unless you’d like to become dinner.”

  Owens held his breath as the two guards and the Gomarii pealed with grotesque laughter.

  The Indelible VI

  Hyperspace

  “I don’t know… can you play it one more time?”

  Ravi looked up from his console and regarded Captain Chhun for a moment. “I have played this message four times consecutively. I am not sure what you are looking to find.”

  Chhun shook his head, examining a still frame of Andien Broxin on the holoscreen. “I don’t know… I’ve worked with her more than a few times. I’m just not getting why she’d do this.”

  Ravi twitched his mustache. “Yes, well, watch it quickly. I do not believe Captain Keel will be wanting to see the woman’s face again.” The navigator shook a finger. “Abducting a captain’s crew—even when he doesn’t particularly care for them—is very offensive.”

  Chhun nodded. “Thanks.”

  The holoscreen sprang back to life. Andien Broxin stood still for a moment, as if waiting for her cue to begin, unaware that the feed had already started recording.

  “Captain Chhun, Captain Ford… I’m sorry about this.” Andien looked from her left to right. Something boomed in the background. “I need members of this crew for classified reasons. They’ll be safe. I promise. Trust me. Do not follow.”

  Ravi paused the image before it looped again. He looked back to Chhun expectantly. “Well?”

  Chhun chewed his lip. This was bad. It was obvious to him that Wraith had gotten a little… squirrelly from his time on the edge. He was still more than capable while on mission, but there was something different about him now. Like he’d become too much of his alias. Too much time spent as a smuggler and bounty hunter, always looking out for the menace that had now revealed himself as Goth Sullus.

  And at the same time, always having to look out for himself.

  It would take some work to get Ford readjusted to life in Dark Ops. And the last thing Wraith needed was something like this. It didn’t help that Ford’s navigator had suddenly reappeared and insisted on referring to Ford as “Captain Keel.”

  Wraith needed to get his head straight, and Chhun hoped to help guide that process. At least until they could settle down on the Mercutio, or wherever Major Owens intended to have them stationed.

  The Six’s cockpit door slid open, and Ford stormed inside. He had gotten out of his armor and was wearing his spacer’s clothing. “Pored over every inch the ship and I can’t find a clue about what happened.”

  Ravi and Chhun exchanged a look.

  Keel looked at the still image of Andien. “Ravi, take that down. I don’t wanna see her face.”

  Ravi quickly powered down the display before Keel put a blaster bolt through the holoscreen.

  “Listen,” Chhun said, holding his hands up diplomatically. “I don’t know what Andien was up to, but she’s good people, Ford. You know that. She’s helped us out while you were on Victory Squad, and she kept helping after you…” Chhun almost said “left,” but stopped himself, “… after you went undercover.”

  “How about you listen, pal?” Ford poked a finger at Chhun’s chest. “She stole my crew. Some of them I even like. And I learned enough about Nether Ops out on the edge to know that if they’re involved—if they want one of my crew—it’s not a good thing. It never is.”

  Chhun made no attempt to argue about the merits of Nether Ops. Apart from Andien, he’d be fine if that entire outfit went up in flames. “So what do you suggest we do? Chase her down? Ford, she said to trust her, not follow.”

  Ford gave a look as if all the secrets of heaven and earth had opened to him. “Oh? She said that? Well, in that case…”

  The captain pushed past Chhun and dropped himself into his chair. “Ravi, we need to track them down. Take a look at exit signatures out of Tarrago—I know, too many ships to track with the size of the battle that was going on. Look anyway. And then do some… math stuff and try to give me the odds for the most likely stop after they left. They probably had to report on mission success, so that would mean dumping out of hyperspace in a system that still has its comm relays up. Which one?”

  Usually, Ravi’s fingers would be flying over his console, bringing up probabilities even while Keel spoke. Instead, the navigator sat still and patiently listened. This didn’t escape Keel’s notice.

  “Hey,” Keel urged. “Get a move on.”

  Ravi continued to sit in silence.

  Keel opened his mouth to speak again, then caught the navigator’s eyes. Ravi shot a quick glance at Chhun, as if to indicate he had something to say—but was reluctant to do so with present company.

  “Oh,” Keel said, rubbing his chin into the web of his palm. “You can say whatever needs saying in front of Chhun. He’s okay.”

  Chhun shifted in place.

  Ravi gave the legionnaire one final look, then turned his attention back to his captain. “I wish to say that a search is not necessary. I know where they were headed. I was with them, secretly, until I decided the time was right to involve you again, Captain.”

  Keel’s bewilderment soon turned anger. He shot daggers at Ravi. “And what, exactly, was it that finally made you decide to include me in the affairs of this ship and crew, Ravi? Thanks for that, by the way. After all, I’m just the captain of the Indelible VI.”

  Ravi let the comment pass. “I initially had hope that the team of Miss Broxin would be capable of completing their mission—which is important. Observing them left me with a different impression.” Ravi held out both hands. “They are not that good at killing. Nor are they sufficiently capable of staying alive. Not as good as you, in my calculations. And this mission will certainly require both.”

  “This mission…” Chhun said. “It’s still ongoing?”

  Ravi nodded. “Yes. They are traveling through hyperspace to Echo Comm Node Station in the Antilles system.”

  “So that’s where we’ll find them?” Keel asked.

  “That is where you will get on their trail.” Ravi blinked as if confirming some calculation. “There is almost no chance they will still be on the station by the time we arrive. And you should expect a heightened military presence.”

  “Great.” Keel leaned back in his seat. “Well, I guess that’s our next course, Ravi.”

  Chhun cleared his throat, causing Keel to look up.

  “I could use the help of a kill team,” Keel said. “Your team up to helping me get back my crew? You know, seeing how this happened because we helped you blow up that shipyard…”

  Chhun held his arms out so
mewhat helplessly. “I mean… I’d have to get it cleared. Major Owens might understand. And we still need to get Sticks to a Republic med bay. As good as what you’ve got on board, he’s going to need some long-term care.”

  “Yeah.” Keel’s tone was dismissive. He waved off Chhun’s words. “Don’t do me any favors, pal.”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Chhun insisted. “I…” The legionnaire hesitated for several moments. “Of course. Yes, we’ll help. Or at least, I’ll help. We can deal with the paperwork after we get your crew back.”

  “Thanks.” Keel stood up and clapped Chhun on the shoulder. “Ravi, what’s the closest Republic destroyer showing on our sensors not getting blasted to scrap by Goth Sullus?”

  Ravi read a battlenet report on the display in front of him. “It looks like the Intrepid is in the next system.”

  “Good,” said Keel. “Good captain on that ship. Probably won’t try to keep us around and try to punish us just for playing Good Lumirian. We’ll get Sticks offloaded and then take off for Echo Station.”

  ***

  Keel strolled down from the ramp of the Six, tugging at a pair of brown flying gloves he’d worn to guide the ship into the Republic destroyer Intrepid. He was the last man off the ship.

  A medical bot and two corpsmen had removed Sticks from the ship on a repulsor litter, despite the legionnaire’s protests that he could walk (on one leg) if he had a couple of guys to lean against. Bear accompanied the wounded legionnaire to the medical bay. Chhun and the rest of his team were standing away from the ship, just next to a medical shuttle, talking.

  “I have orders to refuel and supply your ship, Captain Keel,” a deck technician informed Keel.

  The captain nodded his approval. “Don’t skimp on the good stuff.”

  Keel looked at his surroundings. He’d spent the past seven years actively trying to avoid having his ship sitting under the control of the Republic. And now here he was. He felt a sense of nostalgia. Not just because every Republic destroyer pretty much looked like the next one, but because Keel had been stationed aboard Intrepid while serving on active duty with the Victory kill team. It was this ship from which he’d led numerous missions, serving together with Chhun, Masters, Exo, and Twenties. It was here that they’d drilled relentlessly to find the fastest, best way to infiltrate a Republic cruiser. And it was from this ship that they’d put that training to use, stopping the zhee-controlled Pride of Ankalor from jumping an unholy payload of explosives—the fruit of years of scheming by the MCR—into the House of Reason.

  There were times when Keel wondered if the galaxy would have been a better place had his kill team failed in its mission.

  Chhun jogged over to Keel. “Bring back any memories?”

  “A few.” Keel looked over to his long-time comrade and gave him a sardonic half-grin. “Not planning on sticking around long enough to jog anymore.”

  Chhun nodded. “Right. So, look, people are acting strange. Something’s up, but no one’s saying what. Captain Deynolds wants to meet with us—”

  Keel rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. “So? I don’t want to meet with her. We need get going, Chhun.”

  “Ford…” Chhun began.

  “Call me Keel.”

  “Ford,” Chhun repeated. “I don’t know you as Keel. And besides, Captain Ford understands that a legionnaire kill team can’t just waltz off a ship when its team leader is ordered to a meeting. Deynolds know we’ve got something hot on our hands, and you know she’s not prone to wasting time when lives are on the line.”

  Keel kicked a toe against the destroyer’s polished black deck. “Doesn’t sound like you’ve got much of a choice.”

  “Neither of us do,” Chhun said, moving in close to keep his voice low. “You’re just as much in the Legion and subject to orders as I am. Or have you forgotten?”

  Keel gave his old friend an unreadable expression, like a cabet player keeping his hand to himself. “Let’s hurry up and get the meeting over with then.”

  “This way.” Chhun began to walk toward a speedlift.

  “I know how to get there,” Keel barked after the legionnaire. He keyed his comm. “Ravi, keep the ship ready to go. Gotta deal with the red tape first.”

  “Yes, Captain,” came the reply.

  Keel jogged to catch up to Chhun, who was holding the speedlift door open for him. The two shot through the destroyer’s decks, moving up and across toward their destination.

  “Your friend isn’t just a hologram,” said Chhun.

  Keel gave a half-shake of his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  “So, what is he?”

  “Something else.”

  Chhun let out a sigh. “Yes, I know he’s ‘something else.’ But what? He’s jumping from a Nether Ops ship, traveling who-knows-where, and then back into a system with no comm access, just to give you a cryptic update on your crew…”

  “Ravi’s fine.”

  “I just want to know what I’m getting myself—and my men—into.”

  “Relax,” Keel said, folding his arms. “Ravi’s one of the good guys. I’ve known for a while he’s not just a hologram. Too many clues to ignore. But he’s always done right by me. He’ll tell me what’s going on when the time is right. Or when I tell him to.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  Keel rolled his neck. “You stop worrying about other people’s secrets when you’re trying to keep your own.”

  The speedlift came to a stop, and its door swooshed open. Waiting on the other side was Captain Deynolds.

  “Captain,” Chhun said, staying put inside the speedlift. “Wasn’t expecting to find you waiting here for us.”

  Deynolds motioned for them to exit. “There is a major situation happening right now, and I don’t mean just the attack at Tarrago.”

  “So what couldn’t wait for a courtesy officer to bring us to you?” Keel asked.

  Deynolds didn’t address the question, instead saying, “Welcome back to the Republic, Captain Ford.”

  The trio strode toward the Intrepid’s secure conference room.

  “It seems,” Deynolds said, looking Keel up and down, “you were a good study. You look like every smuggler captain I’ve ever encountered while patrolling the edge.”

  “Thanks.” Keel hitched a thumb toward his chest. “And for the record, they look like me.”

  Deynolds seemed on the verge of letting a smile twist a corner of her mouth upward. “Well, for this, you need to be Captain Ford. We’re about to have a meeting with Legion Commander Keller and members of the House of Reason Security Council. I have orders from Commander Keller regarding this meeting.”

  “Okay,” said Chhun.

  “Neither of you are to protest or argue over what you are about to hear.”

  “And what,” Chhun asked, “are we about to hear?”

  Deynolds sighed. “It’s going to come as a surprise. And it’ll be better that way. Just go along with Commander Keller and understand that there’s more to be said among the four of us after this meeting is through.”

  “Sounds honest,” Keel quipped.

  This time Deynolds didn’t hint at a smile.

  They arrived at the doors to the bridge-level command conference room, Deynolds typed in an access code, and the doors swooshed open. Already projected inside the room were Legion Commander Keller and members of the Security Council. Including Delegate Orrin Kaar himself.

  Keel and Chhun each took a breath and stepped inside.

  04

  Imperial Assault Task Force

  Jasilaar System

  Imperial assault frigate Wolf jumped into the Jasilaar gas giant ring at just after 0300 local system time. Republic intel was starting to put the pieces together that the Dark Legion favored this hour of the morning for their hit-and-run raids, but as of yet the word hadn’t gotten passed down generally.

  The Wolf was one of the brand-new fast production ships the Empire was cranking out from their captur
ed Kesselverks Shipyards on Tarrago Prime. Thanks to automation—and a galactic populace that was starting to throw in with the newly formed Empire—they had produced three of the fast-attack frigates in short order. They were no-frills and built to fight. Longish from stem to stern, narrow and high-decked, the ships looked extremely deadly and ready for the business of combat, skinned in matte charcoal gray with the barest of Imperial markings.

  The Wolf was transporting a task force assigned a very specific mission, a mission critical to the Empire. A company of dark legionnaires would move against the brand-new gas mining facility on Jasilaar Nine, the largest of the multi-colored gas giants that orbited the local star. Colonel Marius Reez had been charged with leading the mission.

  Reez’s advancement in the Empire’s ranks had been rapid. In the Battle of Tarrago, he’d fought for the Empire as a captain at first, and proved himself a capable operator who got the mission done when others got killed. He was a member of the First Battalion Third Regiment during the desperate assault on the marine barracks, and when the battalion commander was killed by the mortar fire that stalled the final assault, Reez took charge. He led a small group of shock troopers through heavy fire in order to secure the barracks in room-to-room fighting. In the smoky aftermath, the day after hostilities had ceased on Tarrago, General Nero himself arrived by Grav-APC and personally promoted the senior-most surviving officer of the operation.

  Since that time, now-Colonel Reez had led three successful raids against Republic assets and had brought his men back with a minimum of casualties. And that was the important criterion by which all Dark Legion officers were currently being judged. Because there just weren’t a lot of shock troopers. In fact, there were very few compared to the nearly inexhaustible supply the Galactic Republic possessed, ranging from legionnaires to marines to Repub Navy and a variety of other paramilitary and specialty organizations.

  This was the chief weakness of the newly formed Empire: it had no deep bench. Ship losses couldn’t be replaced until the shipyards were running at max output, and that required more off-world resources, which required captured freighters, which required troops to go out and capture those assets. Dark legionnaires were the highest-value asset in the fleet, as they were the hardest to train and replace. The riff-raff and flotsam of a disillusioned galaxy were flooding through the battle lines to reach Tarrago and join up, but the system required to test, vet, train, and transform them into hardened killers couldn’t spin up quickly enough.