The Fringe Series Omnibus

by Rachel Aukes

  “You got it, boss,” Miko said, and headed down the hallway. Two of Miko’s crew remained as instructed. Critch took the chair across from Heid and began to peel off the blue mask. He watched Heid for any fidgeting or sign that he may be up to something.

  “Did you see Gabriela’s body?” Heid asked.

  Critch didn’t answer.

  “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I loved her,” Heid continued.

  Still, Critch ignored him. Heid continued, clearly trying to pique Critch’s temper—whether to draw attention away from subtle escape movements or entice Critch to share information, Critch didn’t care.

  Heid’s incessant talking made for a long flight, but it was a small price to pay for catching the devil.

  Thirteen

  The Reunion

  Smithton, Myr

  Yang pulled up to the mansion. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in? I know the Wintsels and can—”

  “No,” Throttle said, cutting him off. “This isn’t like Parliament. People will die in there, and I don’t want that on your conscience.”

  Yang looked relieved. “All right. I’ll be back here in ten minutes.”

  “We’ll be ready,” she said.

  Throttle and Birk removed their wrist comms and left them on the back seat.

  Birk leaned forward, and they kissed. After they pulled back, he spoke. “Don’t start the fun without me.”

  Throttle smiled. “Then you’d better not be late.”

  She stepped out of the Rosten, and Yang and Birk departed. She took slow, confident steps toward the gargantuan mansion. When Reyne and Sixx had come to this house two years earlier, they’d snuck in through an office window in the dead of night. She strolled straight up to the front door in broad daylight.

  A guard stepped out as she approached the door. He was tall and broad, and built like every other guard she’d seen on Axos’s payroll.

  “Is Mr. Wintsel expecting you?” he asked.

  “No.” She leaned closer. “But trust me, he wants to see me.”

  The guard looked her up and down. The corners of his lips curved upward as he surmised Throttle’s intent was to get up close and personal with Axos Wintsel. In a way, he was right.

  “I’ll see if he is available. Your name, please,” he said.

  Throttle smiled. “He knows me as Halit Herley.”

  The guard frowned before his eyes widened. He pulled out his blaster and leveled it on her.

  She held out her hands. “I’m unarmed. I’m just here to talk to Axos.”

  The guard spoke into his wrist comm. “I have Halit Herley at Door One, asking to see Mr. Wintsel.”

  Within seconds, two more guards appeared. One frisked her for weapons, double-checking her leg braces hidden by her coat, since he didn’t seem to know what they were, while the other two pointed their weapons at her. Finding Throttle unarmed, he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

  Any other Myrad would call the authorities if a known torrent came to their home. Axos wouldn’t call the authorities on her because he’d want to deal with her himself.

  They led her through the open foyer, down a wide hallway, and into an office. Axos sat behind a large wood desk, and Qelle Delta sat on a chaise off to the side. Since the woman didn’t seem to recognize Throttle, she had to assume Delta was dead, and this iteration was Qelle Copy Echo or maybe even Foxtrot by now. This one watched her intently, but leaned back all the way as though trying to make herself as small as possible.

  The guard walked Throttle to the center of the room.

  Axos looked to his guards. “You, stay here. You two, search the house to make sure she didn’t bring any friends.”

  Axos scrutinized her as he pushed to his feet. He grabbed a small device off the desk that Throttle remembered well. “I see you’re walking, thanks to the implant I gave you.”

  “It’s come in handy,” she said.

  He approached her and ran a finger down her cheek.

  She refused to take a step back, let alone cringe.

  “Blue doesn’t suit your features,” he said.

  Throttle looked around. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. “So, is this the room where my father killed your mother?”

  Axos’s lips thinned. “It is.”

  “Looks like things worked out pretty good for you then. You got the house. I saw several fancy cars outside. I see you’ve still got a Qelle lookalike around. You know, my buddy Sixx isn’t too happy about you killing his wife and making all these copies of her.”

  He shot his hand out and grabbed Throttle by the throat. “Where is my daughter? Where’s Lily!?”

  Throttle choked, though just enough air got through to allow her to utter, “Safe from you.”

  He shoved her away. Throttle would’ve fallen if not for the guard behind her. The Qelle in the corner cowered.

  “You will tell me,” Axos said. “I can promise you that.”

  She lifted a brow. “Why do you think I’m here?”

  Axos paused. He’d never been the smartest person, and she could watch his expressions shift as he tried to think through the reasons. When he reached his conclusion, he guffawed. “You came here to kill me.”

  She grinned. “Nope.”

  He took a step back as though trying to determine if she was lying. “No? Then, why are you here?”

  When she didn’t answer, his features morphed into a snarl. He pulled out the small remote control. “You will tell me.” He swiped his thumb across it.

  Throttle didn’t collapse. He swiped again, frowning.

  She cocked her head. “Did you just try to disable my spinal implant? Because that won’t work. You know, I’ve got a rash from having a blocker taped around my waist for months. You know how irritating that is? I’m looking forward to not worrying about that damned device any longer.”

  He watched her in shock. “How can you be standing?”

  She grabbed the silky fabric of her long jacket and pulled it to the side for him to see the braces. “Fringe technology may not be as glamorous, but it works, too.”

  While he looked at her legs, she pulled out a tiny detonator that had been connected to a jacket button.

  He belted out a laugh. “You came here to steal this?” He held up the remote.

  She shrugged. “It was one reason.”

  “And the other reason?”

  She smiled, though there was no humor in the expression. “To take you to Lily, of course.”

  Confusion marred his features. Then he sneered. “Ah, I was wondering when I’d receive a ransom demand. Tell me, what will it cost for me to get my daughter back?”

  “More than what you’ve got,” Throttle said, and she pressed the detonator.

  There was no explosion. Rather, the lights suddenly went out, and the hum of the mansion’s air system silenced.

  Axos looked around. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” the guard said.

  Axos snarled. “Then find out!”

  The guard opened the door. Throttle heard a shot. The guard cried out. She didn’t look back and instead lunged and kneed Axos in the stomach. He fell to his knees. She swung and kicked him in the head. He collapsed, unmoving.

  She pulled out restraints and turned to the Qelle, who watched with wide eyes. “You’re free. Get out of here.”

  The woman jumped to her feet, looked at the unconscious Axos. She glanced at Throttle, then stepped forward and kicked Axos in the back before taking off running.

  “You got ’im?” Birk’s voice came from behind her.

  She finished fastening the restraints and turned to see him step over the dead guard. “Yeah. You got them?”

  Birk nodded. “Seven guards down.”

  “Good,” she said. “Help me with him.”

  Brik and Throttle each grabbed one of Axos’s arms, and they dragged him from the office, down the hallway, and out the front door.

  Yang’s brand-new Rosten sa
t waiting for them. Birk shoved Axos into the vehicle and climbed in, followed by Throttle. Birk pulled out several sleeping aid patches and stuck them onto Axos’s neck. While they wouldn’t guarantee he’d stay unconscious, they’d ensure the prisoner would be too groggy to attempt an escape.

  “Are we all set?” Yang asked.

  “Yes, let’s get back to the Liu-Liu-1.”

  Yang nodded and sped off. Yang slowed when they reached the highway. As Throttle expected, no patrols came after them. Between Axos trusting his own security forces too much and the EMP destroying all electronics in the mansion, the authorities wouldn’t know something had happened until someone stopped by the house and discovered the bodies.

  Working together, they emptied Axos’s pockets. They left his wrist comm on since it could do him no good after getting fried by the EMP. Finished securing their prisoner, they put their wrist comms back on and checked to make sure no emergency comms had come through.

  It was hard to tamp down her adrenaline and sit without fidgeting on the ride back to the dock. She turned to Birk to see his leg bouncing. They made eye contact before they came together for a rushed kiss.

  After they pulled away, Birk motioned to her torso. “You don’t need to wear that thing anymore, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. The EMP.” She pulled up her shirt and started tearing off the blocker taped around her torso. Birk helped her tear it off her back. The tape pulled at her skin, but for the first time, she didn’t mind the sting. She wadded up the tape and blocker and dropped it on the floor.

  Birk frowned and touched her skin. “That looks sore.”

  “It’s not so bad,” she said and lowered her shirt. The EMP had fried her spinal implant, meaning she was now carrying a useless piece of equipment inside her. Maybe she’d take Critch up on his offer to get her a new implant, so she could walk on her own. The braces Birk had found for her worked, and right now they felt more real to her than a tiny device that shot electrical impulses into her spine.

  She smiled and leaned back in the seat. Suddenly feeling in better control, she kept an eye on their prisoner for the remainder of the trip.

  Entering the space dock and departing on the Liu-Liu-1 proved to be as hassle-free as arrival had been. As they left Myr’s airspace and passed through its EMP net, the Unity came into view.

  “Shit,” Throttle muttered. “Have they pinged us?”

  “No,” Yang said. A moment later, he added, “It’s just on its usual orbital path. It’s always at Myr when Parliament’s in session.”

  “They would’ve heard about the bombing already,” Throttle said.

  “Let’s hope they’re focused on hunting down terrorists and not stopping Myrad ships with approved flight plans,” Yang said.

  Minutes felt like hours. If they’d been a colonist ship, they would’ve been boarded and checked. When Yang’s ship moved beyond the warship and Yang made their first jump, Throttle realized how much less stress citizens had to deal with in their daily lives.

  She leaned back into her seat and sighed. She only gave herself a few moments of relaxation before she turned to her wrist comm and sent a message off to Sixx.

  That blue-skin you’ve been looking for will be waiting for you at Nova Colony. Have fun.

  A moan came from behind her. Birk jogged onto the bridge. “Sleeping Beauty’s awake. You got any more sleep-strips around here?”

  “No. Sorry,” Yang said.

  “No problem.” Birk turned around and left. A moment later, Throttle heard the sound of a punch, and the moaning stopped.

  She turned her attention back to the black void before them. “Hey, Yang. Think I could take the controls for a bit?”

  He thought for a moment. “Sure, Why not.”

  She grinned.

  Several hours later, Throttle docked the Liu-Liu-1 to the Scorpia, which was also docked to both the Ocelot and the Liu-Liu-2. The ship connected with the lightest sound of metal on metal.

  “Wow,” Yang said. “That was pretty good.” He sounded a bit jealous.

  She pushed to her feet. “Thanks. You’ve got a good ship here.”

  He smiled.

  She helped Birk drag their conscious, tantrum-throwing prisoner to the lock, and they passed through the open doors and onto the Scorpia.

  “Ah,” she said. “It’s good to be home.”

  “It’s about time,” Eddy said. “It’s starting to feel like a fringe station around here.”

  “Prep us for launch, Eddy,” Throttle said. “We’ll head out to Devil Town as soon as we hand off this dead weight.” She cocked her head at Axos.

  “Wait. You’re leaving me? What’s going to happen to me?” Axos demanded.

  “You’re handing him off?” Critch asked as he wound through the stairs. “I thought you’d want him all for yourself.”

  She looked at Axos before turning back to Critch. “Sixx needs this. I don’t. Make sure Axos stays alive long enough for Sixx to get there, okay?”

  Critch gave a small nod. “I will. You’re headed to Spate?”

  “Yeah,” Throttle said, sparing a quick glance at Birk to make sure he was still on board with her plan. He was. She continued. “Operation Devil’s Playground is still on the table. We’re going to take back Devil Town.”

  Fourteen

  Paybacks

  Above Ice Port, Playa

  Barrett Anders answered the comm to see a rather frazzled Corps General Laciam. His hair, normally perfect, looked as though he’d run his hands through it more than once.

  “Corps General, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until tomorrow.”

  “Parliament has been bombed,” Laciam said flatly. “I need the Caliban for the response team.”

  “Of course,” Barrett said. “When did this bombing happen?”

  “Three, no, four, hours ago.”

  “How many senators did we lose?”

  “We’re still tracking them down. Parliament was on break, so we expect minimal casualties.”

  Barrett frowned as he thought. Bombing a building at a time when casualties would be at a minimum seemed at odds to when a terrorist would want to bomb. “Who bombed the building?”

  “Torrents, of course. Who else would do it?”

  “Have they taken credit for the attack?”

  “No.”

  “Hm,” Barrett said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Seda Faulk has taken credit for every major attack. This is not like him.” Barrett thought for a moment. “Did you see the torrents who bombed the building? Did you see anyone?”

  “No. But, we’re still pulling the vid feeds from the surrounding area.”

  “You won’t find anything unusual,” Barrett said. “I’d lay bets it was an inside job.”

  Laciam guffawed. “You’re saying citizens were involved?”

  “I am,” Barrett said without a hint of surprise. “Have any unregistered ships bypassed the EMP nets?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then, if this attack was made by torrents, they had, at minimum, the help of citizens to get onto Myr, to Parliament, and—likely—are already back off Myr.”

  “There’s no record of citizens involved in terrorist activities. They boycott and protest—they have the brains to not go further.”

  Barrett said, “I caution against any immediate reaction until we learn why Parliament was bombed. If there was no message, no one taking credit, the bombing hides an ulterior motive. Perhaps a diversion. Have you seen increased activity taking place anywhere in the Collective?”

  “Nothing,” Laciam said, “And, I don’t have time for your ridiculous theories. You forced our hand into war when you cozied up with torrents. Then, you let an unknown quantity of torrents escape from Playa. When this is done, not only will you face charges for your negligence, but I will also see to it that you will never command another ship.”

  “If by negligence, you mean that I allowed refugees to flee before bomb
ing an enemy location, then I stand as charged,” Barrett said. “Like you, I have no desire to kill innocents, even in a time of war.”

  “There are no innocents in war.”

  Barrett ignored him. “I had reason to believe the bombing of the torrent base was considered a success—even though I didn’t kill hundreds of innocent colonists—since I recovered the body of Vym Patel. However, I found it curious that the body of Commandant Jed Baptiste was with her. I wonder how a man who was believed to have been killed in the Uprising ended up on a torrent base twenty-four years after his disappearance.”

  “Enough,” Laciam said. “I didn’t reach out to chat with you. You are ordered to immediately bring the Caliban to meet up with the Unity at the Space Coast.”

  “The Coast? That’s where all known refugees have fled.”

  “It’s also where the torrent base is. We’re going to obliterate Nova Colony and finish this war.”

  “As you command, Corps General,” Barrett said.

  As soon as Laciam disconnected, Barrett leaned back. The bombing of Parliament intrigued him. It was more than a symbolic attack—there had to be more to it than that, or else someone would’ve taken credit already. He wondered if the bombing was meant to draw attention from something else. Laciam, the poor idiot, only thought in terms of brute force. The Corps General was ready to kill thousands for what could have been a game of smoke and mirrors.

  He tapped on his comm screen to reach out to the reporter who’d interviewed him when he first became Corps General. Perhaps, together, they could do something to keep a fool from destroying the Collective while giving an adventurous reporter the story of his life.

  The comm screen came to life, and a clean-cut man’s visage appeared. He smiled. “Corps General—I mean, Commandant—I’m still not used to that. What can I do for you?”

  Barrett returned the smile. “On the contrary, Willas. I have a lead for you.”

  Fifteen

  Final Preparations