The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  Free’s fingers flew while he rested his wrist on the ID panel to ensure a quick clearance from reading the tissue exposed in his wound, rather than an in-depth scan. Lights appeared in the air at eye height. He snatched a new com from compression storage and settled it around his uninjured wrist. The pain relief was instant, making it possible to focus on the main hologram, which showed Blossom still covered with blood-red blooms as the pirates released their missiles. Time to fix that. He slapped his palm down on the main control and the image wavered.

  It steadied to show a shimmering mist that spread round Blossom and hardened to transparency. The shield. Thank the gods. Free looked closer. Explosions still pockmarked the surface of his world. Plenty of enemy ships had been trapped under the shield and kept on bombarding the surface. He had to get back to the battle.

  Free hurried out of the bunker and this time it was easier to step over Magreth. Healing tech was a wonderful thing. He dropped to her side and concern twisted his gut. She was wrapped in on herself, with blood on her lips and oozing from her crushed torso. Her chest heaved and wheezed as if grappling with the air it was dragging in. He swore softly, while layering med fields onto her crumpled flesh. He could see bone sticking through the sleeve of her uniform and smoothed the last of his med strips over it.

  “Stay strong, Strike Leader,” Free ordered. “I’ve called for help and medics are on their way.”

  He turned to find Wing with his knee in fake Darsey’s back, while he secured energy cuffs on his squirming prisoner. He finished and pulled her roughly to her knees as he stood.

  He looked up with a grimace. “Scan says she’s a clone.”

  That was a twist. An unsettling one with further risk to come. When had Darsey been careless with her DNA and were there any more doubles out there?

  Free joined his brother and folded his arms too, so they gazed down at the clone together. Free didn’t need to look, to know that Wing was wearing his implacable this-is-going-to-hurt expression and he made sure his own matched.

  “Who’s behind the attack?” Wing demanded.

  The imposter gave a rueful smile and a shrug. “Malik. What? I plan to be very cooperative.”

  Free held onto his glare. Her information was insufficient. He’d never heard of Malik. “Who?”

  “Wait,” Wing said. “That kid on Gratuity? Curly blonde hair and a bad attitude? Sloppy business ethics that condone working for both sides?”

  “Yep,” the clone confirmed. “That sounds like him. Not such a kid anymore though. Big and ugly, with a serious grudge against you guys. Blames you for the t’ssaa blowing him up. Something like that.”

  “Where’s Darsey?” Wing asked at the same time that Free said, “Where’s Dee?”

  The imposter tilted her head to one side and then laughed. “Aren’t you both so keen? She’s on the Rim. Malik Central, but I’m not sure where. You won’t find her easily. He’s spent years building his power base and has plenty of support out there.”

  “What about his support here?” Free asked. “How many ships follow him and will they keep fighting once they start taking serious losses?”

  The clone shook her head. “No way. They’re here for greed and because they’re scared of Malik. Make them more scared of you and they’ll run.”

  Wing looked at Free who nodded.

  “On it,” he said and turned away. It was time to fake-out the trash.

  25

  Operation Save Darsey

  Free sank into a seat that looked out the window of Blossom’s System Control Tower. The view of the sea was lovely, but he ignored it. All the action was happening out in space and his eyes flicked from holograms to data splashes on walls and desks, then back again. The fight had been going better, but that was increasingly past tense. The planet was pirate-free, but invaders still swarmed the giant wormhole that was the lifeblood of the Nexus System. Whoever controlled that controlled all trade, galaxy wide, and Malik’s fleet showed no inclination to leave.

  “How’s that catapult coming?” Free asked Spense, who looked up from data splayed through the air in front of him like the guts of an exploded machine-diagram.

  “Coming, sar. The projectiles are in orbit and we can get a launch field loaded with them as soon as it’s primed. Two minutes.”

  “Good.”

  Free looked back to his 3D grid and started assigning targets. It wasn’t going to be easy shooting. The pirates were well spread out and the bullets he was chucking at them had no propulsion after their initial launch. They couldn’t change course once they were in flight, so he needed to send out a spread the pirates couldn’t dodge.

  “Sar,” Spense called. “We’re good to go.”

  “Admiral,” the Tower Leader interrupted and Free sent his target suggestions to Spense, then turned to her seat further down the curved console that ran the length of the room.

  “Yes?”

  “The pirates have opened the wormhole.”

  Free twisted back to the main hologram as a massive rainbow whirlpool appeared. It churned in a slow circle and the largest pirate ships gathered in front of it. The bombers.

  The Tower Leader lifted her voice, which was husky with shock. “They’ve opened a passage to Kresynt, sar. And Admiral, they’ve got nukes.”

  Drakking gods. Free clutched his chair arms to stay steady. His shock was so strong he was shaking with it, although he didn’t know why. It wasn’t surprising that pirates were breaking the law. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he feared. An old-fashioned bomb wouldn’t get through Kresynt’s shield. Free had scarcely thought that, when the Leader ruined his hope.

  “They’re super-nukes, sar.”

  Free closed his eyes. How many could the pirates have? Such weapons cost a fortune in exotic matter, as well as radioactives and forbidden knowledge. Super-nukes could definitely put a dent in Kresynt’s shield and if they had more than one…

  “Launch, Spense. Now. Throw all you can at those bombers. Concentrate every rock we can hurl at the center of the wormhole. Send them in waves and make sure you hit something.”

  “Throwing, sar.”

  Every data feed in the room lit up with trajectories, while someone’s imaginative programing added a whooshing noise to the launch. It was followed by a tense silence and Free stared at the image of the wormhole, silently urging the tiny projectiles on.

  The enemy must have seen them coming and instantly broke formation. They swung wide, but Spense had sent half of his weapons wider. Flares arced through the hologram and hundreds of tiny volcanoes vented before being swallowed by space. Then the bigger explosions came – orange craters in the passage mouth. A third of the bombers disintegrated.

  Free tapped a finger for a closer view and pieces of shrapnel seemed to fly through the room. He grimaced as darker flecks tumbled by. Bodies. He turned to his Senior instead.

  “Nice shooting,” Free said and Spense nodded.

  “Doubt we’ll get that lucky again, sar. They’re spreading out already.”

  Free looked closer. “Not just spreading out. They’re splitting into groups. Factions?”

  Free’s voice rose with the question and so did his heart. If Malik lost his grip and the pirate alliance fell apart they could be taken down one bite at a time.

  “Doesn’t look tactical,” Spense agreed. “Though that group…”

  He pointed and twirled a finger to enlarge part of the hologram. Over twenty ships had broken away and were heading for Blizzard. Free’s gut tightened again. If they gained a foothold on the other habitable planet in Nexus, and held its small population hostage, they’d be difficult to deal with.

  “Send half our strike teams to Blizzard,” Free ordered.

  “That will weaken Blossom’s defense, Admiral,” the Tower Leader protested and he spared her a look.

  “We’ve got a shield. Blizzard hasn’t.”

  “But our population is more important,” she insisted. “Aren’t they just misfits?”

&nb
sp; Free felt a spark of anger, which Spense defused. “Wings are away, sar. Headed for Blizzard.”

  Free turned back to the main image. Most of the pirate vessels veered away from Blizzard, turning to meet the Alliance strike ships, but the largest of the enemy vessels continued at full power, driving for the far side of the purple and white world.

  “Track that ship,” Free ordered and the Control Data Senior moved to obey.

  Spense shifted to stand beside Free. “You think it’s Malik, sar?”

  “Someone important. Someone I want to talk to.”

  Red splashed the room as the ships engaged and silent explosions rocked each tiny vessel. The two sides were well matched and every salvo found a target. In less than a minute half of the combatants were gone, or listing in space, dark and shattered.

  Free glanced at his Senior, whose eyes looked bloodshot in the lurid light of more explosions. Spense frowned back and Free had to agree. The skirmish wasn’t won yet. A hiss from the Control Leader drew his attention back to the visual, where the last pirate ships had split into two groups of five. They headed in opposite directions to engage the remaining pair of strike wings, but one enemy group abruptly cut back. It moved at startling speed and had to be driving its engines to overload, but managed to cut behind a single Alliance strike team.

  Ten ships to five. Plus the pirates had flanked Free’s ships. He gripped the edge of the console, leaning forward into the holo, as if he could somehow save his people by getting closer.

  The strike wing closed ranks and accelerated, trying to punch through the pirates ahead of them despite a barrage of missiles, but the ships at their rear fired too and the Alliance hulls ruptured, letting brief fires rage. The heat of battle faded back to the dark and cold of space as the ruined ships vented their last air.

  “Bloody hell,” Spense said while his mind shed fury and frustration.

  The pirates had lost another vessel, but that still left nine ships against the last strike-wing of five. Too near to call. The invaders had come with serious fire power, but Free had faith in his pilots. They could outfly anyone if the odds were even close to fair. Which they weren’t.

  The two factions closed at speed and both sides pushed their engines hard, without any care for the consequences. They hurtled into weapons range, with the Alliance craft swerving and diving to avoid the shrapnel storm chasing them through space. The lead ship was shredded and peeled way, trying to draw more missiles after it, before it vanished in a flash.

  Nine ships to four.

  Free wanted to close his eyes, but forced himself to watch. It was the only connection he could make with his pilots – bearing witness to their end.

  Another brief explosion brought light to the room and Free blinked. One of the pirate ships was gone. A silver shard slammed through the enemy’s remains and powered on, to shoot another pirate vessel at point-blank range. The newcomer pivoted away in time to avoid the disintegration of its target, spinning to meet the next enemy ship head on.

  “Who the hail is that?” Free heard himself rasp.

  Spense sent a mental image showing he was already searching for an ID.

  The stranger took out another pirate, while two more enemy ships vanished under the combined fire of the Alliance fighters. Now the odds were better. Only four pirate ships left to face the remaining four of the team, plus their rescuer.

  It seemed the pirates agreed. The last of the enemy ships turned and ran.

  Free hailed the team leader and her face appeared in front of him. She looked drawn, but exultant. Free had to unclench his jaw to find a smile for her. “Well done, Leader. Let them run. We’ve got reports of troops reaching the ground. Nikareon has them pinned down, but could do with some air support.”

  “On it, sar,” the human replied and her image disappeared.

  “I’ve got an ID on the civilian vessel,” Spense said at Free’s elbow. “It entered not long before the attack, carrying a single occupant with a working visa for Blizzard. He’s registered as a Beserk.”

  Free turned to check the data above his Senior’s wrist and saw a familiar name. Zakareon farNikareon. That explained a lot, especially the wicked flying skills. He nodded to Spense and sent a hail through the control tower.

  “Blossom Central Control calling Business visa 78223-20. This is Freefall, Zak. Thanks for the assist.”

  There was no image in response, but a voice rumbled from the console. “No problem, Admiral. I’m not here to fight, but you were definitely in need of some pest control. How’s the infestation?”

  “Clearing nicely,” Free replied. “They’re on the run and we appreciate your help with that. Name your price and I’ll do my best to pay it.”

  “You’ve got nothing I need. Good luck with the mop up, Admiral.”

  Zak went silent and the connection cut off, but Free had already switched his attention to the main display. The wormhole the pirates had opened to Kresynt wound down and vanished, but another huge singularity opened to replace it.

  “Did they re-dial?” he demanded and the Tower Leader checked her data.

  “Yes, Admiral. They’re headed for Frontier. It’s well out on the Rim.”

  “I know it,” Free said. “A fortified base for pirates and smugglers. They’re running. I wonder what happened to Malik.”

  He and Spense shared a look. “How badly do you want to find him, sar?”

  “Very, but he’s not our priority now.”

  “Lady Darsey?”

  “Indeed. I need to see Wing.”

  Free spared another glance for the images around the room and relaxed. The pirates were truly fleeing. Their nerve had snapped and they’d be gone by the time Alliance reinforcements arrived from Kresynt. It was time to organize a rescue mission. He needed the real Darsey back.

  “That’s odd,” Spense said. “The cloned prisoner has a visitor, sar. Admiral Jileea.”

  “What was that?” Free asked, looking up from his com. “Wing’s on his way. Can you clean up here, Spense?”

  “Of course, sar.”

  “Thank you.” Free slapped his Senior on the shoulder and was out the door without hesitation. If Spense was in charge then he could relax. That was a strange thought, but Senior Chen had proven himself in war, peace and rescue missions. He’d earned Free’s trust.

  Now it was time to think about Dee, even though it made his chest ache. He reminded himself that they still had time to find her. She was an important hostage and the pirates wouldn’t dare kill her. Kill her no, but hurt her?

  Free stamped down on the thought and pushed it back into the pit of fear it came from. He dived into an uplink, which whisked him to the surface.

  He stepped out into an alien landscape. The world no longer smelled of blossom. It stank like acid and the city was grey. Buildings were gone to leave gaps like missing teeth, while others slumped and still more leaned at an angle. Centria had become an ancient stone henge, silent and abandoned, in a fog made of smoke and dust.

  Creepy, Dax observed.

  “Very.”

  “Free!”

  The call made him jump and he turned to see Wing scrambling up the tilted flagstones of Cinnamon Plaza. Its paving was still white speckled with brown, but most of the pavers were broken and the rest were as crooked as the city. This was going to be a hail of a cleaning job.

  “Hey.”

  Free waited and they met in the atrium of the Council Chambers, which remained strangely pristine, despite the fact that the roof was gone. Its dark stone floor was marbled with dust, but still rang under Wing’s boots. They clasped forearms and gripped each other’s shoulder. Free studied Wing closely and frowned.

  “You look furrowed.”

  Wing’s eyebrow quirked. “Furrowed? Like a field?”

  “Frowny then. All pinched and pale.”

  “Thanks. It must be something I ate. Either that, or the homicidal ditch who reamed my mind for passcodes.”

  “Guano. Is that how they got
in?”

  “Yes,” Wing said levelly, with no emotional undertone at all.

  Drak. “It wasn’t your fault. You never had a chance and I’m pleased I didn’t stay for dinner. With my codes she could have shut down all our ships as well.”

  Wing’s brow clenched further. “Only if you’d given them up.”

  “If she cracked you, she would have cracked anyone. Trust me, Wing.” Free tried to send all the conviction he could, but his brother started leaking guilt and remorse. Not ideal. Perhaps a third opinion would help.

  “Look, Old Lady Grace told me something once. About you. She said you could react to any crisis instantly. That you made the best decisions without thought. That your instincts were exceptional.”

  Wing raised an eyebrow. “Crazy old bat.”

  Free laughed and Wing offered the edge of a smile, but quickly sobered. “Why was she telling you how great I am?”

  “Encouragement. She was trying to make me feel better about myself.” He considered that briefly. “Maybe she was crazy. Speaking of such, I really didn’t think you’d shoot her. The clone. Not when she looks so much like Dee.”

  “Being married a few decades helps.”

  Free didn’t believe that, or find it funny, but he wasn’t about to tell Wing to stop jesting. It was better than the melancholy hidden beneath.

  “Dee,” he said simply and Wing nodded.

  “Darse is gone, as in missing. I'd feel it if she was dead. We need to get out there now.”

  “The Rim?”

  “That’s where the pirates swarm.”

  “Which is a problem,” Free said. “We don’t have the strength to take the fight to them. Not even for Dee.”