Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Dramatis Personae
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Review Request
Newsletter
Author's Note
WARDEN’S VENGEANCE
by Tony James Slater
Copyright © Tony James Slater 2019
This edition published 2019 by Various Things (ADT)
Tony James Slater has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, or licensed in any way except when specifically permitted in writing by the publishers. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
www.TonyJamesSlater.com
For my Beta Readers,
Yet another book arises, with your sticky
fingerprints all over it!
Aaron, Amber, Dan, Deb, Earl, Ellis, Emily,
Emma, Greg, Kirsty, Laura, Paul, Richard,
Rose, Sam, Sharon, Tabitha, Vicki et al –
Kyra shakes her mead in
your general direction ;)
Dramatis Personae
Lord Anakreon (Kreon): Warden of the First Circle, and one of the oldest and most powerful surviving members of the order. Three centuries old, bald, semi-mechanical, and often bad-tempered, he is an expert xeno-archaeologist. He collects odd pieces of alien technology and uses them in his struggle to bring stability and justice to a galaxy on the brink of chaos.
Lady Serafine (Sera): Former Warden of Earth; responsible for the planet’s security and protection, until her recent attempt to wipe out the human population. Now in disgrace, she is still a potent warrior. Beautiful, with long black hair, she was once married to Kreon.
Àurea Herensuge: The long-lost daughter of Kreon and Sera, Àurea was believed killed on her first mission as an apprentice Warden. Saved from certain death by the leader of the Ingumend Resistance, she rose to become their leader following the death of her mentor and lover Ingumen. Àurea’s face was badly scarred during her near-death experience; she wears a half-face mask to conceal it.
Tristan Andrews (Tris): A young man from modern-day Earth, Tris had no idea humans had spread out into our galaxy thousands of years ago. Abducted from Earth by Kreon and coerced into becoming the Warden’s new apprentice, Tris was amazed to discover his telepathic ‘Gift’. Also a surprisingly good fighter with the deadly glaive he inherited from his father, Tris has an athletic build and messy brown hair. Both of these traits were also inherited, as he was cloned from his father’s DNA.
Kylimnestra Loreak (Kyra): A mercenary on the run from her homeworld, Kyra is a veteran warrior and a master of the ancient Arranozapar sword-form of her people. Also strongly Gifted, Kyra has taken on Tristan’s training in all things — mostly, however, she loves to mess with his head. She is tall and muscular, with a strong predilection for shopping, and her trademark rainbow-hair can change colour on a whim.
Eleanor Fitzgerald (Ella): A White Priestess and assassin of the highest order, Ella is a slender, pale-skinned redhead. Skilled in all forms of combat, explosives, manipulation and seduction, Ella has been genetically modified and cybernetically enhanced to be utterly lethal. Currently wanted by the Priesthood for turning on her employer, she has found herself drawn to Tristan’s honesty and naiveté. She is now his lover, though not an official part of the crew.
Evelyn Fitzgerald (Evie): Ella’s twin sister Evie is also a White Priestess, having graduated in second place in her class behind her sister. Still employed by the Priesthood and under contract to the disgraced Warden Demios, she is currently roaming the galaxy with an agenda of her own.
Loader: A talos (animated machine), Loader is an artificial sentience — highly illegal by current standards, though his existence predates them by untold millennia. Named after the type of machine he inhabited until its destruction by Sera, he is currently missing in action. Loader’s SCU — the ancient module that houses his consciousness — is virtually indestructible. Which is fortunate, as it is currently buried beneath half a mile of rubble on the Lemurian capital planet Helicon Prime.
Askarra: An Artificial Intelligence program based on the memories of Tristan’s mother, Askarra is permanently ensconced in the computer of a Sanctuary-class battle station named the Folly. The formidable vessel was the equal of an entire fleet, but has recently suffered extensive damage. The Ingumend resistance fighters upgraded the Folly with one vast laser cannon, designed to hunt identical battle stations employed by the oppressive Lemurian Church
Gerian: A clone of Tristan’s father Mikelatz, Gerian is a key figure in the ruthless and oppressive Lemurian Church. A powerful agent of the Keepers of the Faith, the shadowy rulers of the Lemurian Empire, he is strongly Gifted. Gerian’s official title is ‘Assessor General’ – he is the head of the Church’s dreaded psychic interrogators.
Lord Oktavius: High Warden following the murder of his predecessor, Oktavius is a strict traditionalist. He believes in the protection of Earth at all costs, and is dedicated to the Wardens.
Sharki: Captain of the Marauders mercenary band, Sharki is Kyra’s ex-boss and her on-off lover. In Sera’s absence, he is currently helping with the defence of Earth.
Prologue
The harsh wail of the sirens was driving Lukas mad.
It’s not like they were needed; in the first few seconds of their sounding, everyone in the Pit knew they were under attack.
Lukas had been expecting it for days. Hell, everyone in the Ingumend resistance had been expecting it — ever since being forced to watch their leader savagely decapitated in a live broadcast.
“Hold still, Ana,” he said, as the young girl in front of him swung her arms.
“We’re in troo-ble,” she sang, finally lifting her arms and keeping them by her ears.
“I’m sure it’s just a drill,” he said, lowering the vest over her head. It was getting tight, he noticed; it would barely have fitted over a bulky vac-suit.
As her mop of blonde curls emerged from the neck hole, she dropped her arms to her sides and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not scared. I watched the Keepers of the Faith kill Mamma, you know. I didn’t even cry.”
“Really?” He squatted to tug the armoured vest down over her pyjama top, and made a face at her. “I cried.”
She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Okay,
I cried! They shot Mamma in front of everyone and cut her head off! But my point is, you don’t need to talk to me like I’m five. I’m not a child anymore.”
Lukas rocked back on his heels, considering her. “Okay then. The truth is, we’ll be seeing her soon enough if we can’t hold this place. The Church has sent soldiers, and they’re coming here right now to try and kill every one of us. So grab your rifle.”
The child’s eyes went wide. “Are we gonna fight them?”
He tussled her hair. “Not today, little soldier. We’ll head for the tunnels, where we stand a chance.”
The tunnels, roughly blasted through the Pit’s rock by long-dead generations of prisoners, ran for miles in all directions. He’d never bothered to find out how far they stretched — they formed an uncharted labyrinth, webbing their way through every inch of this miserable planetoid. Whatever forces the Church brought down on them, the tunnels would be the last place they would conquer. The civilian population should already be headed in that direction; luckily there were over a dozen different entrances, and the closest one was probably the quietest.
Grabbing his rifle from the rack he checked the charge, and stuffed a spare powerpack into his tunic. There was no time to grab supplies — sections of each tunnel had been stocked with provisions and weapons, and fortified with heavy blast doors for just such an occasion. Part of him winced at the thought; he’d never been one for running away.
He’d always figured that when the day came he’d be out there on the front lines, taking his revenge; protecting the few friends he had left, and selling his life as dearly as he could.
Sadly not an option when he had their late leader’s only daughter in his care.
If she lived through this, she would become a symbol of hope to whatever was left of the Ingumend resistance.
If she didn’t live through it, well, he wouldn’t be around to care.
Taking Ana’s tiny hand in his, he set off at a jog through the apartment. The main door led out to a small foyer, which connected to the vast Atrium at the centre of the Pit. From there they’d be able to see the mouth of the tunnel they were aiming for…
They didn’t make it.
They’d barely reached the small forest at the centre of the Atrium when, with a colossal roar, the entire back wall blew in. Tonnes of rubble came crashing down, and clouds of glittering dust billowed out from the ragged opening — and a second later, a legion of nightmares stormed through it.
Still jogging, Lukas risked a glance back over his shoulder and nearly fell flat on his face.
What he saw behind him turned his stomach to ice.
A torrent of unnatural shapes poured through the breached wall with a noise like thunder.
Hideous abominations of flesh and steel, weapons embedded in the stumps of arms, chains flailing, spikes driving relentlessly forward in a drug-fuelled frenzy…
The Church hadn’t sent soldiers.
It had sent Transgressors.
Hundreds of them.
Guess we won’t survive this one after all.
A hastily assembled line of defenders poured laser fire into the mass of churning bodies, but the monstrosities came on. Blown off limbs and melted faces were nothing compared to the agony that permeated every fibre of their beings. Lukas knew that the only relief from the pressure in their heads was to kill and kill again, until nothing was left standing on the battlefield. Only then would the command be sent, dulling their senses and releasing them to the blackness of torpor. After the battle, the dead would be incinerated, their metal weapons and upgrades surviving to be reused. As armies went, they were horrifically efficient. Any resistance fighters unlucky enough to survive their assault were likely to become part of the next batch.
Lukas knew all this because, in a past life he’d helped create them.
His rifle was already in his hands, the power cranked up to max as he snapped off a handful of futile shots. It was instinct, he knew, and somewhere in the back of his head a voice screamed to ignore it.
Don’t fight them! You can’t fight them, it reminded him.
Run!
Ana stood beside him, firing volley after volley into the creatures, pausing between shots to pick her targets. The hot pink rifle in her hands had started out as little more than a toy, but one of the Pit’s technicians had upgraded it over the years, retaining the garish housing but replacing the innards with progressively more powerful weaponry.
By now, with Ana aged nine, it was the equal of any adult’s blaster.
And with Ana’s childish absorption of his marksmanship lessons, she was the equal of any adult with it.
Not that that would save them.
Already the first group of defenders were engaged in hand to hand combat, their front rank reduced to a bloody smear in an instant. A second wave of abominations boiled from the hole in the Atrium wall, rabid ferocity driving them on through the storm of laser fire like it was a cloud of stinging flies.
“Back!” he yelled, pushing Ana behind him and turning to run himself.
All over the Atrium men were falling back in ragged groups, pursued relentlessly by the bio-mechanical killing machines.
They wouldn’t make it; for anyone close enough to have fought them, it was already too late.
Letting his rifle dangle from its sling, Lukas reached out and swept Ana up onto his shoulder. The kid weighed practically nothing; her toddling would get them both killed. He charged towards the mouth of the tunnel at top speed, even while his sense of honour screamed at him. He was leaving these people to die; every defender now engaged with the enemy was little more than a speed bump, slowing the monsters down so that more civilians could reach safety.
Safety? Ha! Nothing was safe anymore. Not for these people. Not for him. The Church would hunt them to the ends of the empire, and beyond.
But for Ana’s sake, he had to try.
He pounded into the tunnel at a dead run.
Screams followed him in; the Transgressors were right behind him, closing in no matter how many resistance fighters they had to hack their way through. Inside the tunnel shadows writhed on the bare rock walls, as though the enemy had already beaten them there. The red glow of the emergency lighting made it seem even more like hell.
It was a losing race, he realised. Even at a sprint, those things were too quick. The cocktail of drugs flooding through their systems made them stronger, faster, and a hundred times more aggressive.
It didn’t make them smarter, though. If Ana and the others could reach the blast doors at the end of this tunnel, the monsters would be stuck banging on it until their masters arrived to let them in.
At least it would buy her a little more time.
He skidded to a stop, swinging Ana down and thrusting her onwards. “GO!” he yelled, as she faltered and looked back at him. He didn’t have time to check if she obeyed him; he spun back to face the entrance, rifle raised.
The first Transgressor rounded the bend and came for him in a blur of razor-edged motion. Lukas stood his ground, blowing a hole clean through the monster’s skull. It crumpled to the ground, the rage draining out of it with the blood, but already two more were coming up behind the body. Lukas took aim and dropped the next beast on top of the first one.
There was a trick to fighting Transgressors. Two, actually. Shoot them in the head. People tended to get hypnotised by the flashing knives and torturous appendages — it was one of the main reasons for adding them. But Transgressors were flesh and blood; as human, or very nearly, as they had once been, with all the same vulnerabilities. Headshots usually did the trick, or if the cranium was armoured, a solid blaster bolt to the heart.
His lip curled as he took aim again. The second trick to fighting Transgressors was to put the muzzle of your blaster under your chin and die on your own terms.
The next creature to round the corner was huge. Almost too late, he registered the heavy steel tanks it carried, and threw himself backwards. A great gout of burning plasma
filled the tunnel around him, super-heating the air so much he felt his eyebrows singe. He put three shots into the thing’s face as he scrambled to his feet, retreating as fast as he could. It toppled to the ground, replaced immediately with more of its brethren. He fired into them too, and heard a shrill voice shrieking his name from behind him. A split-second glance told him that he was closer to the giant blast door than he thought; unfortunately, it also told him that Ana was standing outside the door, pink rifle in her hands, waiting for him.
Damn kids!
He opened up on full-auto, not bothering to conserve ammo. He’d most likely be dead inside the next ten seconds; even the spare powerpack in his tunic would be wasted.
He glanced down involuntarily. Shit! My tunic!
The garment must have caught some of the plasma after all. The thick armour plates had melted, hissing and bubbling, and the material around them was smouldering, starting to ignite.
Cursing in a steady stream, he continued to backpedal. With one hand he kept his rifle up, hosing the tunnel with indiscriminate laser fire — with the other he tore at his tunic’s clasps. The armour came free, swinging out, taking most of his tunic with it. The few small burns on his chest weren’t even worth worrying about.
“LUKAS!” Ana screamed, and he realised he was nearly to her — but another clutch of Transgressors had burst through his blaze of fire, shrugging off the laser blasts like they were nothing. He could see the corridor was thick with bodies behind them; another full wave of the monsters, coming fast.
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