Empire of Ashes: An Epic Space Opera Series (The Augmented Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  EMPIRE OF ASHES

  ©2021 BEN HALE

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  Print and eBook formatting, and cover design by Steve Beaulieu. Artwork provided by Phillip Dannels.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  ALSO IN SERIES

  Prologue

  Seven Years Later

  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

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Thank you for reading Empire of Ashes

  More In Sci-Fi

  ABOUT BEN HALE

  ALSO IN SERIES

  Books by Ben Hale in the Timeline of The Augmented

  Listed in relative chronological order

  —The Augmented—

  Empire of Ashes

  Rise of Renegades

  Galaxy of Titans

  —The Augment War—(Coming 2022)

  Alliance of Outlaws

  Beacon of War

  Throne of Ruin

  —The Age of Oracles—

  The Rogue Mage

  The Lost Mage

  The Battle Mage

  —The Shattered Soul—

  The Fragment of Water

  The Fragment of Shadow

  The Fragment of Light

  The Fragment of Fire

  The Fragment of Mind

  The Fragment of Power

  —The Master Thief—

  Jack of Thieves

  Thief in the Myst

  The God Thief

  —The Second Draeken War—

  Elseerian

  The Gathering

  Seven Days

  The List Unseen

  —The Warsworn—

  The Flesh of War

  The Age of War

  The Heart of War

  —The White Mage Saga—

  Assassin's Blade (Short story prequel)

  The Last Oracle

  The Sword of Elseerian

  Descent Unto Dark

  Impact of the Fallen

  The Forge of Light

  To my family and friends,

  Who believed

  And to my wife,

  Who is perfect

  “We stand at the dawn of a new era, the birth of the Krey Empire. With the newly created genesis machine, the krey are now immune to every disease, ailment, and even aging. Our lives will be measured by eons, and death will only be possible by accident—or adversary. Many will believe that the greatest threat to the Empire will be the dakorian race, but our soldiers are easily controlled as long as we provide them with an enemy. The real danger is in the race of man. They may be our slaves, but within their flawed genome lies a hidden power. Let us hope the key to augment their bodies is never discovered, for if that key is turned, they will rise in rebellion. And we will be an empire of ashes.”

  -Horvelion, 1st Emperor of the Krey Empire

  Royal Archives, Classified Section

  Star Date 1-12

  -Purge of Record ordered by Roshequer

  16th Emperor in the Empire

  Star Date 16-8263

  -Record purged by Inquisitor Parveg

  Star Date 16-8264

  Prologue

  The fist landed heavy, splitting Siena’s cheek next to her eye. She managed to keep her feet but fell against the wall, her hand sliding against the rough seracrete. The metal was cheap across the Krey Empire, but the krey never spent glint on the slave quarters, so the walls were as rough as the day the sheet had been forged. The skin of her hand tore open, drawing a gasp.

  The six boys laughed at her pain, shifting to get a better look. After dodging them for weeks, the group had cornered her in the maintenance storage room. Long and slender, the room offered no escape. Conduit pipes lined one side of the room, held up by heavy brackets. A pile of scrap pipes extended from a barrel, and a worktable sat deeper in the room. Humans were not permitted to work on any of the higher krey technology, but they were frequently tasked to lay the specialized pipe that powered everything from houses to starships.

  “You’re just a runt,” Thet taunted. “Of all the slaves owned by Laurik, you must be the smallest.”

  “I bet they couldn’t even sell you to a bottom-ranked House,” another boy said.

  Siena laughed in his face as she retreated another step. “You think I care about my value? You really are as stupid as you look.”

  The boy had a flat face and a flat head, and he scratched his head as if trying to understand. Many of the slaves considered their value according to their most recent sale price, but Siena hated letting the krey decide her worth. Somehow that just felt wrong.

  Within the vast Krey Empire, trillions of krey belonged to a couple hundred enormous Houses, all ranked according to their status. Starships, space stations, moons, even entire planets were owned by krey Houses, including Verdigris, the planet where Siena had spent most of her life. The planet and everything on it belonged to House Zeltil’Dor.


  Every boy in the room had once been owned by another House, with Thet himself having been purchased by Laurik within the last year. But Siena, with a heavily flawed genome, had spent her entire life on a single planet.

  “I wonder how many times Laurik has tried to unload you.” Thet shoved her back against the wall. “Ten? Twenty? I bet she can’t find a single buyer.”

  The words were meant to cut deep, to make her feel worthless. Every human in the galaxy was owned, and like Thet, they learned early to understand their place. Many slaves boasted about their sale price. But Siena did not like the feeling of being a slave.

  Thet reached out and tugged on the earring in Siena’s left ear. It matched that of the other boys—set with a purple stud, marking their House. “This will never see another color, because you are just a worthless little runt.”

  “Better a runt than an ugly krey lover,” she retorted.

  She knew she shouldn’t have said it, but the words came out before she could stop them. Thet’s eyes darkened, and his cohorts began to laugh, goading him to hit Siena again. At eleven years old, Thet was big for his age, his shoulders bulky and wide, his body not quite growing into his frame. He was a month away from turning twelve, when he would start working with the adult slaves. Probably in the mines on Verdigris. But for now, he was the resident bully in the slave quarters of Secondous Laurik. Siena assumed every group of slaves had one, and it was just her misfortune to get one like Thet.

  He balled his hands into fists. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be so ugly no one will ever breed with you.”

  “I’d still be prettier than you.”

  She had a moment to enjoy his abject fury before another boy, one recently bought by Laurik, grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her toward Thet. He swung. She ducked. Thet’s fist passed over her head and smashed into the boy’s nose. Crying out, the wounded boy fell against the wall and went down, leaving a gap for Siena to run.

  She knew she should escape. Trying to fight five boys that were all bigger than her was dangerous and stupid. But instead of bolting, she reached for a length of power conduit sticking up from the barrel of scraps. She swung with all her might, and the conduit hit Thet square in the head. He dropped, hard. The other boys stared in disbelief. She bared her teeth and swung again, knocking another boy to the floor as the other boys began to shout.

  “Grab the pipe!”

  “Hold her down!”

  “Stop squirming, runt.”

  At nine years old, Siena was small and fast. She ducked swinging arms and used the pipe with abandon. Boys cried out in pain and recoiled, cursing as the pipe battered their hands, arms, and head. One got a hold of her arm, and she bit his hand, leaving a mark. They retreated.

  “She bit me!” the boy howled.

  “Touch me again, and I’ll rip your nose off,” she said.

  The four boys kept their distance. She faced the group, her chest heaving, her shirt torn at the shoulder. Blood was on her split cheek and her eye was swelling, but she held the pipe to the side, low and ready. Her blue eyes flashed with defiance, and one by one the boys looked away.

  “Rabid runt,” one of the boys muttered.

  He grabbed Thet and heaved him to his feet. The boy wobbled but managed a glare at Siena. She stood her ground, even as the burly boy scowled and turned toward the door. One by one the others followed.

  “When we catch you again, we’re going to break some bones,” Thet called.

  “Or I’ll break yours.”

  She spun the pipe, and Thet lowered his gaze. Then they were out the door and gone. She stood, as tall as her small frame allowed, until she was certain they would not return. She let out a long breath and returned the conduit into the barrel, grimacing at the movement.

  She gingerly touched her face, her fingers coming away bloody. Her face and shoulder stung, but the pain was overshadowed by her sense of victory. It gradually melted into dread. What had she done? She should have escaped when she had the chance. Collecting a clean rag from where it hung with several others, she dabbed at the blood on her cheek, cursing her lack of restraint. Just as she did, a body separated from the shadows deeper in the room.

  “You should have run.”

  Siena snatched the pipe and whirled, nearly striking the man in the arm. Panic and adrenaline surged through her veins, making her body tremble. But it was just Felis, the engineer’s assistant. He was thin and wiry, like a collection of sticks holding up a gray shirt and gray pants. His hair had long since faded, leaving his spotted head exposed. His purple earring hung from a long earlobe.

  “I don’t like to run,” she retorted.

  Still grappling with her rapid heartbeat, she dropped the pipe into the barrel and walked to the door, hoping for a quick exit. Felis was not like the other slaves currently owned by Secondous Laurik. Slaves rarely lived to such an age, and Siena had heard the other adults talk about how he was not right in the head.

  “Siena, is it?” Felis asked.

  His voice was like rough seracrete on her ears, but it was not unkind. She stopped at the door and looked back. “You know my name?”

  The old man chuckled, a wheezy sound that made her shudder. “Keen observation is essential for survival.”

  He chuckled to himself, as if he’d told a joke only he understood. She stared at him before glancing out the door into the main slave quarters. The common room was large enough for the hundred or so slaves that cared for Laurik’s estate, with side sleeping chambers for men, women, and children.

  Most of the slaves were working in the main house, a bright multistory structure that clung to the side of a mountain. The men and women performed daily cleaning, cooking, and serving. The rest lounged in the central slave room, talking in weary tones. The room was large and square, with rough walls and a trio of ancient vid projectors mounted into the ceiling. They didn’t work all the time, but they were the only connection the slaves had to the Empire. Currently, a group of slaves were watching the latest news from Kelindor. The holo extending from the wall showed the same vid that had been playing for over a year, the bright blue-and-green planet gradually being swallowed by a mysterious cloud, killing billions. House Bright’Lor, the owner of the planet, was facing a massive Reckoning investigation. The Empire wanted answers.

  Chairs and tables, most crude and made from scrap supplies, dotted the space. Large openings connected to the female and male sleeping quarters, and the children’s rooms. There was also a kitchen and serving area reserved for the slaves.

  All of them were owned by Secondous Laurik, and several of her sons and siblings occasionally came to the slave quarters to perform inspections. Siena had only seen Laurik enter the slave quarters twice, and both times she’d gathered all the slaves so they could watch her kill one of their own.

  “I should probably go before Thet come back,” she hedged, taking a step outside.

  “No need to worry about them,” Felis said, giving an airy wave. “He’s a coward like all the rest. Not that you can blame him. The krey have tried to turn us into cowards. It’s why we don’t live in families, so we cannot grow attached. Thet wants to prey on the weak, and you are obviously a fighter.”

  Confused, she shook her head and took a step outside. “I really should—”

  “Have you ever been outside the children’s rooms?” Felis asked.

  “I’m nine.”

  He issued the same wheezy chuckle. “The krey do not like to listen to crying human offspring. Nor do they like to see their slaves display any courage—like you just did.”

  She flushed. “I won’t fight again.”

  He crossed the length of the room so fast he seemed to fly. Before she could suck in a breath, he was down on one knee, just inches from her face. His eyes were intense and bright, demanding her attention. His breath smelled of horg, the tasteless drink with all vitamins and minerals essential to human survival.

  “You won’t be able to,” he said, his soft voice at odds wi
th his forceful expression.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You want to fight,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. “And I would bet my life you won’t be able to resist. I’ve lived in sixteen Houses, and the defiant slaves always end up dead. But I can see it in your eyes. If they don’t break you, you will break them.”

  “You want me to fight the krey?” Incredulous, she jerked her head. “That’s suicide. No one fights the krey. No one.”

  “Why?” he challenged. “Because they have a perfect genome and can live forever?”

  Siena motioned toward Laurik’s house. “They say Laurik has lived for fifty thousand years. We live less than a hundred. Not to mention their dakorians and Bloodwalls.”

  The thought of dakorians made her shudder. Ten feet tall, with a bone exoskeleton, the soldiers of the Empire spent their entire lives training for battle. And as frightening as they were, it was the Bloodwalls she feared the most.

  Those dakorian soldiers had been given a perfect genome in reward for their proven loyalty. Their body was the peak of perfection, and they were as cruel as the krey.

  Felis grinned, the expression almost feral with excitement. “We are shackled by fear. But one day one our race will stand and fight. And we will win our freedom.”