The Fringe Series Omnibus

by Rachel Aukes

  “Sixx, take the guns. Throttle, take us out,” Reyne said as he entered the bridge.

  “Buckle in,” Throttle said. “I’m pulling out of the dock now.”

  “ETA of incoming traffic is four minutes.”

  Reyne strapped in and pulled up the grid. “Keep an eye on your nine o’clock, Throttle. It looks like the Nighthawk is trying to cut into our personal space.”

  “I’ve got them,” she answered as she continued to reverse the Gryphon from the dock. The Nighthawk also continued to back up, moving closer and closer to the Gryphon. Throttle spun her ship around, missing the other ship while pulling farther from the Matador. “Lemmy sure could use some flying lessons,” she muttered.

  Sixx snickered. “I hear Lemmy has been asking you for some private lessons.”

  Throttle rolled her eyes. “I’ll hand it to him. He’s persistent.”

  “ETA of incoming traffic is two minutes. All ships make jump speed post haste. The Arcadia will not remain to provide support.”

  “The jump engine is just about at full power,” she said.

  Reyne pinged Boden. “Prepare for jump speed.”

  “I’m strapped in and ready back here,” Boden answered.

  “Get us into jump speed the instant you see the Matador jump, but don’t wait until our timer is gone,” Reyne ordered. “I really don’t want to be here when the CUF shows up and blasts the area with an EMP net.”

  He noticed two blips disappear from the grid as other ships made jump speed. Outside the window, he watched an escape pod shoot from the Matador and its docking doors close. “Hurry up,” he muttered. As more ships jumped, soon all that remained was the Matador, the Arcadia, the Honorless, and the Gryphon.

  Seconds later, the supply ship accelerated briefly and then shot forward, disappearing in a burst of light. “They’re clear,” Reyne said. “Get us out of here, Throttle.”

  The Arcadia jumped next, and he noticed the Honorless accelerate at the same time the Gryphon moved. Just as he was thrown back in his seat, he caught several flashes of CUF ships emerging from jump speed.

  The Gryphon jumped, and Reyne lost all visuals. He slumped over his panel and sighed.

  “That was close,” Throttle exclaimed.

  Sixx added, “We’re now the proud owners of a fully loaded supply ship with a mighty fine 3D printer. Think of all the different kinds of mayhem we can make now.”

  A rock formed in Reyne’s gut as he thought of how close they’d come to being caught. They’d survived the past year by lying low and steering far from any CUF ships. Beginning today, their plans had shifted. A year of running had burned through the fleet’s fuel supply, and they were running out of places to dock for repairs and food. They couldn’t take on the Collective when they were constantly on the run.

  And so it was time for them to take action.

  Corps General Ausyar and the CUF armada were about to have their hands full.

  Three

  Scatter Plot

  Throttle scrunched her nose. “I don’t like Devil Town. It’s full of criminals.”

  “Which is why we’ll fit right in,” Sixx said.

  She frowned. “You act like it’s no big deal. You’ve had a price on your head since you were fourteen. It’s still relatively new to me.”

  He shot the pilot a toothy grin. “Trust me. Guys love a dangerous woman.”

  The petite blonde rolled her eyes. “Anyone ever tell you you’re hopeless?”

  “Yup,” he replied before taking a long drink and then added, “Don’t worry. You’re staying on the ship with Boden.”

  “You don’t think he’ll try to buy sweet soy while we’re down there, do you?”

  Sixx shrugged. “Once an addict, always an addict.”

  “Hm. Some could say the same about you with women,” she countered.

  “It’s different. I enjoy the company of beautiful women to remember. Addicts use drugs to forget.”

  “Oh, so you’re a philosopher now, too?”

  Reyne ate his dinner, listening to the pair as they bantered, letting the normalcy soothe his nerves. Sixx and Throttle were both more than crew; they were family. He’d found his adopted daughter at the end of the Uprising over twenty years ago. She’d been only a few years old when he came across her at a ravaged farm, lying next to her dead family. Her broken spine would’ve guaranteed her death within hours or days.

  He’d seen too much death—had caused too much death—by the time he found her. He’d grown numb to killing. Yet, her tiny grip had brought him back from the blackness into which his soul had comfortably settled. She’d always believed he’d saved her, but the truth was that she’d saved him that day. And she’d been in his heart and a member of the Gryphon’s crew ever since.

  Sixx joined his crew nearly ten years ago. Reyne had come across the thief at Sol Base, holding his own against a dozen armed thugs. Reyne had planned to continue along his way, but there’d been something about Sixx’s dark gaze that’d brought Reyne right back to the day he’d found Throttle, when he too had been a lost man about to tumble into the abyss.

  He later learned that Sixx had lost his wife a few months earlier and had developed reckless and dangerous habits to cope. Reyne, seeing his old self in Sixx, stepped into a matter that didn’t concern him. He helped Sixx escape some rich woman’s irate husband and his posse, and ended up with a new crew member. He quickly learned that Sixx’s masculine features and killer charm made him irresistible to women…and made for all kinds of new and interesting trouble.

  “Well, we’re torrents, not criminals,” Throttle said. “Big difference. One is heroic; the other is vile.”

  Sixx shrugged. “Both are one and the same to the CUF.”

  Reyne chimed in. “Keep in mind that we have the two most powerful men in the Collective out to get us. Everyone knows if you want to find people bad enough, put out a big reward on their heads, big enough that even their own mothers will turn them in. Whether we’re criminals or not is a moot point.”

  Sixx chuckled. “Which makes our mission all the more interesting, since of course we’re heading straight to a fringe station where there’s guaranteed to be patrols around every corner.”

  Reyne lifted a brow. “Would you prefer we give up and return to Playa?”

  “Heck, no. Just thinking of the temperatures at Tulan Base makes my balls freeze.”

  Throttle winced. “Gross. That’s an image that will haunt me forever.”

  “Spate is definitely warmer,” Reyne said.

  Sixx grinned. “And the women are feistier.”

  Throttle smirked. “We’ve been away for a long time. What if your girlfriends forgot about you?”

  “Nah. I’m unforgettable. I just hope they didn’t get too lonely while I’ve been gone. I don’t want them to get too overzealous when they see me.”

  “If things don’t go well, I’m afraid you won’t get much time to catch up,” Reyne said. “It only takes one scout to see us and our mission is scrubbed. If that happens, we’ll have to cut tail and rendezvous with the others back at Tulan Base to come up with a new plan…while your balls freeze off.”

  Sixx dramatically shivered. “That’s all the motivation I need to make sure this goes off without a hitch.”

  “We could always meet up with Critch on Terra,” Throttle offered.

  Reyne belted out a humorless laugh. “My presence on Terra would do far more harm than good. No, with the specters scattered across the fringe to recruit, we stick with the plans.”

  Throttle leaned forward. “Do you think Heid got the Matador safely to Playa?”

  “I do,” Reyne said. “The Collective has always underestimated Playa. It might be a big ice rock, but it still has plenty of natural resources, like the metals used to produce rilon. Even after the Collective destroyed Ice Port, there are still plenty of factories in the smaller towns. I know the colonists still on Playa are more than willing to reopen the factories in exchange for food and
resources.”

  “Assuming Heid is able to negotiate with the locals,” Sixx said. “Playans are known to be a rather standoffish group.”

  “She’ll do it,” Throttle said with confidence. “She might be an Alluvian, but she’s as tough as a Playan and doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. She’ll have the production lines running at a hundred percent in weeks.”

  “The bigger problem will be hiding the Arcadia and the Matador from the CUF surveillance drones in orbit around Playa,” Reyne said.

  “Nah,” Sixx said. “She’s got a warship. They have all kinds of techy gadgets to screw with drones’ tracking systems.”

  “If Ausyar sees even a hint of activity taking place on Playa, you can bet he’ll fill the planet’s orbit with warships,” Reyne cautioned. “It’s safe to say none of us have any interest in running into Ausyar’s Trinity—or any warships for that matter, not with us topping the CUF’s most-wanted list right now.”

  “No thanks to you,” Sixx said. “I was there, remember?”

  Reyne’s lips thinned. He remembered quite well. The night they broke into a Myrad mansion, killing the owner—who happened to be Ausyar’s lover—by accident.

  Throttle scowled. “Ausyar left the Playans to starve after he bombed Ice Port. We should return the favor to his home world, Myr. I heard Critch still has his hands on the blight they used on Sol Base last year.”

  “We don’t attack innocents,” Reyne said. “We’ll win our freedom without stooping to Ausyar’s level.” He leaned back in his chair. “Phase One was a success. With the Matador’s 3D printer brought down to Playa’s surface, we can print all the munitions and hardware we need and store it beneath Tulan Base. It’s more efficient than bundling the rilon for interstellar transport and then printing it into supplies.”

  Sixx ran a hand through his black hair. “Yeah, that’s all good and fine, but we’re still printing magnetic rifles, which went obsolete over a century ago. We’ll be going up against the CUF, and they have photon guns. We might as well print rubber bands to shoot at them.”

  “Photon guns are too expensive and complicated to make. Magnetic technology may be old, but it’s reliable and gets the job done.”

  “I think ramping up Tulan Base as our main base is a fantastic plan,” Throttle said.

  “Of course you do. It was your dad’s idea,” Sixx replied drily.

  “He doesn’t always have good ideas,” she corrected him before turning to Reyne. “Like the time you left me behind last year to go traipsing off to Myr and Alluvia. That was a horrible idea. You guys just about got yourselves killed. Remember who had to come and save the day?”

  “You did,” Reyne answered.

  “She makes a good point,” Sixx said. “That was an awful idea. We nearly all died, and I didn’t even get to keep any of the goodies I found on Myr.”

  “You still have that biome kit you found on that Myrad hauler, right?”

  “Yeah, but that’s all for me. The stuff I was grabbing on Myr was for bartering.”

  “Who knows, maybe you’ll get another chance to tour Myr,” Reyne said.

  Sixx steepled his fingers and his lips curled upward. “I like the sound of that.”

  Reyne smiled. “Did I tell you another fantastic idea I had?”

  Throttle narrowed her gaze. “What’s that?”

  “Heid isn’t just producing munitions. She’s also stripping hardware from the Matador to fortify Tulan Base and expand the space dock.”

  Throttle’s eyes widened. “Expanding the dock? Heid might be my new favorite person.”

  “It was my idea,” Reyne said.

  A chime interrupted them.

  Reyne looked up. “We’ll be dropping out of jump speed soon. Let’s hope our ship’s new credentials get us through security, or else we’ve come a long way just to get shot at. Again.”

  “I guess that means I have to get back to work.” Throttle pushed her wheelchair back from the table and headed to the bridge.

  Sixx collected the food trays. “The specters have been making up false credentials for twenty years. They’ll work just fine.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Reyne left the cleaning to Sixx and caught up with Throttle on the bridge, where she was locking her wheelchair in at her instrument panel. He took a seat at his own panel to her left.

  The Gryphon was a Phantom III class gunship, and had been Reyne’s personal ship during the Uprising. While her technology was over twenty years old, she made up for it with speed and armament. With a Flux Whisper engine, she could outrun any ship below the Aggressor class. Plus, having been retrofitted with a phase cannon and five photon guns came in handy when they couldn’t outrun their problems.

  He heard Sixx buckle in at the gunner’s station behind him. If luck were on their side, they wouldn’t have to use her speed or her guns on this mission. As Reyne ran scans, he hoped for luck, but knew it was always better to prepare for the worst.

  Throttle broadcast to the engine room. “Heads up, Boden. We’re dropping out of jump speed in three, two, one.”

  The constant hum of the Flux engine disappeared, leaving the ship in sudden silence.

  “I’m switching to navigational engines,” Throttle announced.

  A moment later, Boden’s voice came through. “Everything’s in the green back here.”

  A small brown planet grew larger through the view panel. Reyne scanned the channels, not picking up any chatter out of the ordinary. “Transmitting codes to the station now.” Running his hands over the panel, he transmitted the clearance codes and ship data. Then, he waited.

  Long seconds passed before his panel chimed a response. He accepted the files and let out the breath he’d been holding. “We’ve been cleared for approach and have a vector. So far, so good.”

  “Adjusting course heading now,” Throttle said.

  In zero-g, the only indication that Throttle was changing course was the slight shift of Spate standing before them in the view panel. Getting used to the nuances of zero-g had been Reyne’s longest learning curve when he was a new pilot. Since the only gravity on board came from the ship’s electromagnetic fields, the crew didn’t feel shifts or g-force. Only when a ship moved from sub-speed to jump speed was there noticeable thrust, and that was due to the slight delay in the EM fields adjusting to the engine’s surge.

  As they approached Spate, light twinkled off ships and satellites circling in the planet’s orbit. Reyne couldn’t make out which ships were CUF patrols and which were haulers or transports, but he knew the Collective was closely guarding all the fringe stations. After all, the fringe stations were the only colonies on each fringe world with space docks. And most ships, including the Gryphon, weren’t designed to take off from gravity-worlds without external propulsion systems, which space docks provided.

  As Spate loomed ever closer, Devil Town—the planet’s only fringe station—came into view. Even this far out, its massive indoor gardens stood out like green ribbons draping across the colony.

  His panel beeped, feeding the ship additional information. “Looks like our credentials were accepted. We’re cleared for landing at dock C-Five.”

  “I’m pulling up docking bay C’s layout now,” Throttle said.

  “I’m not seeing any patrols closing in on us,” Sixx said. “That’s always a good sign.”

  When the dark gray docking station came into view, Throttle began reciting her landing checklist, a habit she’d picked up when she’d first started flying at the age of five. When she finished, she blew out a breath. “Devil Town, here we come.”

  Four

  Frozen Dreams

  “Excuse me, captain? Where do I put these?”

  Gabriela Heid turned to find a young man with his arms full of cables. “What are they?”

  “Power couplers from the Matador,” he answered succinctly.

  “Take them to Nolin at the slingshot systems,” she said. “Maybe he can use them.”

  When t
he man moved on, another took his place. “I have a new tribe of Playans at the gate. Where can I put them?”

  “See if there’s still room on level Three.”

  “Level Three is already over capacity.”

  She sighed. “Start using the warehouse space on level Two then.”

  “It’s freezing on that level.”

  “They’re Playans. It’ll be far warmer than what they’ve just come in from. Give them extra blankets and food. That should help.”

  Nolin came jogging up. “I can’t work on these systems. They’re older than I am.”

  Heid gripped his shoulder. “Please, just try.”

  He frowned and then nodded tightly. “Okay.”

  “Thank you,” she said, forcing a thin smile and turning away. She walked down the hall. When she saw more headed her way, she sprung around the corner and found a dark nook. She slid down the wall. She rested her throbbing head on her knees and rubbed her neck.

  A year ago, she was a senior CUF officer in charge of one of the armada’s newest warships. Back then, she never would’ve imagined that in just one year, she’d have run off with her warship, hijacked a CUF supply ship, set up a torrent base on a fringe world, and betrayed her father. She was the highest profile citizen traitor to the Collective, and number one on the CUF’s most-wanted list, but that didn’t bother her nearly as much as knowing her father was on the hunt for her.

  Gabriel Heid was Alluvia’s highest-ranking magistrate. What only a very elite few knew was that he was also known as Mason, one of the three leaders of the Founders. He was a brilliant man who’d become the most powerful man in the Collective by pulling strings and working deals behind the scenes. He touted that his aims were altruistic, but his actions showed his motives to be far different.

  She’d watched as he morphed the Founders into a clandestine organization serving his own needs rather than the needs of the Collective. He could design intricate strategies for shaping the Collective, and incorporate a multitude of variables into those strategies. However, the one variable that he’d taken for granted was that his daughter would always follow him, without question. When she’d betrayed him, she knew she would draw the full depths of his vengeance.