Penny

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

Rene quietly cursed himself as the Bonaventure began the gentle breaking thrust that would bring them into Zatis orbit. It was one thing to make a mistake in the chaotic confusion of a firefight or in the heat of the moment but he didn’t have any excuse for this current screw up. They had been so intent on reaching Zatis that they hadn’t really planned for their arrival. Three holographic screens hung in the air in front of him, all the details of the Bonaventure’s previous visits displayed. It wasn’t much to go on, little more than logs of trajectories and automated communication hand shakes. With Mia’s aid though it was possible to translate the information into something useful. Trajectories became landing platforms and repair facilities, communication codes could be back tracked to a list of known associates. If Rene had the time he supposed that someone with Solae’s skill could peel back the information further to uncover the shadowy world of slave trafficking that the Bonaventure’s late and unlamented captain had travelled. All that could wait however. The current problem was that Rene needed to find somewhere to land them, that was close to their goal, and yet not out of character for a ship like theirs. He had to avoid places the ship and her crew might be spotted by people who knew the previous owner and he had to find some way to pay for landing privileges. The small store of credits they had captured with the ship would cover the landing fees that the various starports charged, but only just, and Rene doubted they could afford much in the way of bribes. Accessing money was going to be difficult as any spies the Duke had would certainly have flagged any accounts linked to Solae. Rene’s own accounts the few thousand credits of an Imperial Marine’s salary, might be accessible, but by now the Duke might have identified him as well. There was a remote possibility that he could access his family accounts if he could find a banking house of sufficiently interstellar scope, he wasn’t sure if his father had sealed his access, but even if he could, the sudden appearance of an Imperial noble wasn’t likely to go unnoticed by any watchers.

Zatis swelled in the viewscreen as they reached orbit, the slightly grey blue world pocked by occasional electrical storms of its on going terraforming. Down there, somewhere, was the PEA array that would let them contact the Stellar Empire and spread the word about Duke Tan’s treason. But Zatis wasn’t like New Concordia or even Panopontus. On those worlds they had found allies, Oanh Park and his wife, and Damaris and her family, without whom they would likely not have survived, but he was less confidant of such aid here. Zatis was a wild place, a haven for criminals and mercenaries, all of whom would be amply motivated to turn Solae over to the Duke for his generous reward. Even if the PEA were still working and they could get to it, what then? An Imperial squadron would take weeks to reach the Eastern Cross, weeks in which they would have to face the vengeful wrath of the Duke and his forces.

Rene sighed and tried to clear his mind of worries and doubts. The door opened and Solae entered the bridge, looking radiant as always. Some of the tension ebbed out of Rene at once, Solae’s mere presence made him feel like anything was possible and that good things could happen even in the darkest situation. He had been putting off waking her for as long as possible, but he had to admit to a feeling of relief that she was going to be at the controls for the landing. Mia’s blunt critique of his piloting skills hadn’t improved his confidence, and though he was sure there was a simulator somewhere in the freighters ancient and disorganised database he had not had the time or inclination to find it.

Standing Rene crossed the bride to Solae and wrapped her in his arms kissing her passionately even as the console began to beep as they reached the end of the autopilot. Ever since he had met her they had been operating on someone elses time table and Rene dearly wished they had time just to be together. Unfortunately the universe did not seem inclined to comply.

“I love you,” Rene whispered before, reluctantly, releasing Solae so she could take her place at the pilots station.

“What is the plan?” he asked eagerly.

Via Stellarum

Ushkov shot her a final glare at her as Edwyn turned away. Kyra blew the scowling man a kiss that made his face turn blotchy as it mottled with rage. Several of the nearby troops snickered though Edwyn either didn’t hear or pretended he didn't. It probably wasn’t a smart move to antagonise someone who might be in a position to save her life, but then it wasn’t like the odds of any of them surviving the next few hours were anything anyone would bet on.

They moved through the forest of diseased trees in a loose knot. In theory they ought to have spread out into a skirmish line, but with their limited training the comfort of being close to other humans was more of a concern than the proper tactical deployment. Distant gunfire continued to boom, though the volume of anti-air fire seemed to be slackening, replaced instead by the distant booming of artillery striking something well over the horizon.

They reached a more or less intact lander beside which a stocky looking female sergeant was shoving men into a loose tactical column. The stenciled name across her back read ‘Reyes’. As their group emerged from the trees she spun to face them with a look that hovered somewhere between rage and relief.

“O’Byrne, glad you could be bothered to join us,” she snapped, arching an eyebrow to indicate her surprised that so few had returned with him. She must have been hoping for the extra bodies from the second dropship, and it clearly stung for her to see Edwyn returning with fewer troops than he had began with. The remaining soldiers in her column looked back and forth, muttering to each other in tones of concern.

The original plan, as it had been explained to Kyra anyway, was that two full platoon would be involved in their attack. It looked as though they had only half a platoon left, unless the other two dropships had been forced off course rather than destroyed. As the thoughts formed in Kyra’s mind a communications tech ran forward, a heavy comm array strapped to his back.

“Sergeant! Captain Brady says we are to continue as ordered, pick up stragglers as we go!” Kyra remembered seeing Brady, a fat an unhealthy looking officer, the sort of rich mans by-blow who was good for nothing else but shoving into a uniform and shipping far away from public embarrassment. She wondered if he was on the ground or if he was safe in one of the troop ships in orbit. Assuming the troop ships were safe of course. Intelligence hadn’t said anything about a Corporate Fleet in the area, but then Intelligence hadn’t said anything about their being enough soldiers on the ground to shoot the dropships to shit either.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

“I know a command when I hear one,” Rene said with a ghost of a smile. He stood up and scooped Solae up in his arms carrying her like the newlywed she was to the small captain’s cabin they shared. Unfortunately, and probably much to Mia’s electronic disappointment, he couldn’t join her and settled instead for laying her down and sharing a lingering kiss with his betrothed. While she might not have been happy about being ordered to bed by her computer, Rene waited until she succumbed to what must have been exhaustion. All nobles possessed superior physiques but the athleticism favored by males was less pronounced in females who made concessions for the sake of an aesthetic of beauty that didn’t run to chiseled musculature. Rene wondered if one day the ruling classes might become a different species from the rest of humanity, biologically speaking. Geneticists claimed that this wouldn’t be the case, as nothing was actually added to the genome, merely that certain traits, which had already existed in the gene pool, were hyper emphasised. To Rene that sounded like every example of natural selection he had ever heard cited. In their minds the ruling aristocrats were a different species already, even those who professed to populist leanings made it clear who they thought ought to be leading those movements.

When Solae’s breathing had grown slow and regular, Rene reluctantly returned to the cockpit and began to review the sensor screens. In contrast to Panopontus and New Concordia, the space above Zatis was busy. With few natural resources the Zatis system might not even have been colonized, but what it lacked in material wealth it made up for with its stellar geography. The pale blue sun of the Zatis system had once been part of a binary pair, the elder of the two stars had gone supernova at some point in the distant past and collapsed to form a black hole. The young star continued to orbit it, trailing a tail of light and matter into the black hole like a long streamer circling the may pole. The supernova had sterilized the system, but the planets had been distant enough to survive destruction.

The combination of the black hole and the dense blue star meant that the gravity shadow of Zatis was both massive, and highly distinctive. This meant that the system boasted an inordinately large number of jump points, making it a hub for commerce and, more importantly information. Once upon a time the Imperial Fleet had maintained a base in the Zatis system, as a customs point and as a convenient place to base a rapid response force in the early, dangerous days of colonization. While the fleet had been based on a moon of one of the large gas giants, the inner planet, Zatis itself, had been left uninhabited. Over the years a community had grown up there as merchants serving the fleet had built their own facilities and eventually embarked on terraforming projects though typically under massive domes rather than a complete atmosphere creation project. Eventually civil wars had stripped the naval base away from the system, leaving behind the merchants and mercenaries who found that they did just as well without any Imperial overseers and the modern polity of Zatis was born.

Rene cycled through the screens, briefly checking dozens of small freighters as well as a number of suspicious ‘private yachts’ which certainly became pirates whenever and wherever it became convenient to be so. There were also a trio of large ‘anti pirate cruisers, functionally naval vessels in the employ of the sector duke orbiting the planet. The vessels didn’t appear to be actively interfering with traffic, though they held a high guard around the world. Rene instructed Mia to passively monitor the ships while he checked the Bonaventure’s log. Conveniently, but not unsurprisingly, the Bonaventure had visited Zatis several times in the past two years. On those occasions two of the orbiting cruisers had been present, though not at the same time. It made sense that given Zatis’ importance that Duke Tan would at least want to keep an eye on the place, though this didn’t make Rene feel any better.

With several hours of travel ahead of him Rene busied himself by going through the publically available data that he was able to access with laser or microwave links. To his lack of surprise there was no word of the Rebellion, though if one knew where to look, the ‘civil emergencies’ and ‘unexpected losses of communication’ were a little too frequent to be the result of the normal natural order of a chaotic galaxy. Nor was there anything to be found on the military nets Rene was able to detect. The Imperial Navy kept a database of sailing directions, to alert ships to local conditions, and while Rene couldn’t access the database without code authorization, he was able to determine that it hadn’t been updated in over a week. Theoretically any navy ship that jumped in system would update the database and a week was an unusually long stretch of time for a location like Zatis. Rene also knew that the Marines maintained an emergency net, mostly so that men on leave could be quickly recalled than for any really secure communication, but he didn’t dare attempt to patch into it, incase the Duke’s spies were monitoring access. It would have been a logical way to sweep up Imperial troops who missed the initial purges, as soldiers checked in to see what was going on, certainly something Rene would have done if he wasn’t aware a rebellion was breaking out.

“Incoming vessel Bonaventure, state your cargo and destination. Over.” an unfriendly voice crackled across the communications system. Rene jolted out of his research into the Zatis PEA, a topic that was surprisingly difficult using only public records, and glanced up at his communications screen. The computer identified the transmission as originating from one of the Duke’s cruisers, the thirty thousand ton City of Rheims.

“Mia is this a normal practice,” he asked quickly.

“They have interrogated each inbound ship in a similar manner Sir Rene,” Mia responded breathily. Rene felt some of the tightness of his chest relax.

“They are using a coded transmission but several of the captains of the other vessels are complaining about it,” Mia added unexpectedly. Rene frowned, it sounded almost as though Mia were bragging about how she had come by the information, an emotional response that ought to have been beyond her programming. Pushing the thought from his mind he opened the channel, wishing that Solae was here to handle the talking.

“We are inbound for Zatis, running empty,” Rene responded in what he hoped was a bored tone. He deliberately bit back the reflex to end the transmission with the word over, figuring that proper comm discipline had no place on a tramp freighter. Rene watched the range finders tick steadily downwards, uncomfortably aware that they were already within the outer limits of the warships guns.

“Running empty Bonaventure? That is no way to run a business,” the communications officer aboard the City of Rheims responded with slightly more than idle curiosity in his voice. Thinking very fast Rene pulled up the past few stops from the Bonaventure had made.

“Tell me about it Rhiemy,” Rene improvised, “We took some damage landing on Cromwell’s World, took everything we had just to get airborne again. We are going to take a real bath on this one.”

There was another pause that was probably longer in Rene’s mind than in the real universe.

“Roger that Boney, better luck next time. Rheims out.”

Rene let out a long breath of relief, they would be in orbit within the hour. So far, so good.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Camilla felt a surge of despair that she couldn’t quite keep from her face. The elf seemed to sense this and bowed his head in acknowledgement. After everything they had been through not only had Cydric died for nothing, they had actually made things worse. Grimly she determined that she would stop playing soldiers and just leave this place, head south to Tilea or some other far port and live out whatever life she could. There was no point in pretending like she could make anything better. Let someone else hunt down necromancers, someone better suited to it than a courtesan from Tilea.

“What are they looking for?” she asked numbly, although truthfully she didn’t really care any longer. The elf made a gesture that meant nothing to her, his slender fingers spreading into a complicated pattern.

“When the Duke was last suppressed, his body was sundered and scattered. Part of him lived in the child whose spirit you released, part of him was sent over the waters. Part of him was hidden in some secret place here in this land. While part of his is free, it will search for the other parts to regain his full strength.”

Camilla shrugged, not able to muster up much interest, having already made up her mind to leave Brettonia to whatever fate decreed.

“That sounds like a problem for a knight on some quest,” she responded, mentally plotting how long it would take her to reach Bordeaux and a ship that would take her back to Tilea.

“It is a problem for a Fey Enchantress,” the elf responded enigmatically. Camilla stiffened at those words, casting a suspicious glance at the way watcher. A slight smile tugged at the corner of the elfs inhuman eyes as he watched her.

“I’m not an Enchantress, a Fey one or any other kind,” she snapped. Aldaerion lifted a slender eyebrow at this, as though questioning the statement.

“And yet you are bound to a blade sacred to the old gods of the Asur? Those that call themselves the grail knights see you in their dreams? You can see in the dark as well as any of my folk… it makes one wonder.” Camilla shivered, since her abduction by the chaos warriors and their claims that she was destined to serve Slaanesh, she had secretly feared that her new found abilities might be the first manifestations of mutation, the feared mark of chaos. Was it possible it was something else? The sword perhaps? Her hand closed over the weapons hilt and she shivered slightly. The elf merely smiled.

“If you seek answers, I suggest that you take your men to the monastery as you had planned, if you prevail, perhaps you will find answers to your questions.”

Camilla opened her mouth to ask what questions the elf was referring to but the Waywatcher was gone, having vanished before her very eyes so quick and silent were his movements. Camilla sat for long moments, and then, grinding her teeth, turned and headed back for her camp.

They attacked at dawn. The ruined shell of the monastery clung to a rocky outcropping in the middle of the river. The morning mist swirled over the slow moving water concealing the approaching men from mortal eyes, though Camilla wouldn’t have bet it would have worked against the undead. The log rafts they had fashioned from fresh cut timber ground onto the muddy beach and the nervous peasants disembarked as quickly as they were able. Camilla, Matis and Sir Renard came ashore on the first boat. The other knights having been left for later rafts because of the noise they made in their armor. Renard, perhaps by virtue of his quest, moved as quietly as Camilla, despite being encased in steel.

The climbed the steep rise and into a scrubby abandoned field. Ancient and dilapidated beehives mouldered in a state of general decay and the long grass was tall enough to brush their calves as they snuck forward towards the crumbling wall topped with ancient rusted fleur de lys in wrought iron. A sudden movement stilled the creeping attackers as a pair of skeletal figures marched along the far side of the wall. The creaking articulated skeletons looked neither right of left, merely marching along their patrol route.

Camilla opened her mouth to order her men onwards but Renard’s gauntleted hand fell on her shoulder stilling her for a moment. The grail knight’s helmeted head tracked the direction the skeletons for a few moments longer, evidently blessed with some ability to pierce the mist. He lifted his hand silently.

“Come on,” Camilla hissed and the dozen peasants crept forward. From the river came the sound of clanking metal as the knights neared the shore. She ran forward and vaulted over the fence, landing on a floor of weed cracked flagstones. Before her stretched a long cloister that ended at an ancient shattered door. A greenish light flickers from the broken timbers. A scream tore from the throat of someone off in the fog and there was a ring of steel as weapons clashed.

“Charge!” someone roared and the mist was suddenly filled with the sounds of battle and a strange terrible laughter.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Junebug closed the medicomp around Taya’s body and bought it live with a few touches of the holographic pad. Ordinarily the autodoc would have been overkill for sunburn and dehydration but Taya was very fair and hadn’t been exposed to a lifetime of grueling physical activity the way Junebug had. The blond haired woman sighed immediately as salves and antiseptics were applied to her skin and intravenous hydration began to replace the fluids she had lost on the grueling march across the desert. Crossing to the pilot's seat she took a cup of water and downed it in single long pull thrilling to the feel of the cool water in her parched throat.

Neil had already gone to sleep but Taya was too burned and dehydrated to go quite yet. Sayeeda had opted to take the first watch, mostly because other than Saxon, she was the only person in any condition to do it. Lony confirmed that Saxon was in the hold, he seemed to be conducting some form of meditation, though from the way his nostrils and scales were flared, it had more to do with adapting to the new temperature than it did with finding inner peace.

Indra watched from the corner of the room. She was clearly tense, no doubt worried that the Highlanders might simply turn around and sell her to Sven. The woman’s body was too perfect to be the result of natural processes, Junebug suspected genetic engineering rather than surgery but she wasn’t an expert in such things. Few worlds that could afford such high tech luxuries were ever in the market for mercenary soldiers or at least they tended to the hiring for service on some much less well off colony worlds. If Sven was indeed after her, it was a miracle she was still free, coming to the Highlander was probably the one move the Cyborg wouldn’t have predicted. That made her either extremely lucky or extremely smart and Junebug wasn’t sure which one to go with just yet.

“You won’t turn me over to him will you?” Indra asked as Junebug refilled her cup from the dispensing nozzle. Her voice had a vulnerable quaver that made even Junebug’s pulse climb a few beats. She glanced sidelong at Indra trying to determine if this was a conscious effort to manipulate her, but she saw no guile in the woman’s worried face.

“Look,” Junebug began, searching for a way to make herself understood without making herself look like a monster.

“I’m a mercenary, but I’m a good one, if you contract my crew to get you off this dustball, than that is what we will do,” she explained. It was unlikely that the woman really appreciated how seriously Junebug took her contracts but it was enough reassurance for Indra to break into a nervous smile.

“Do we need to sign paperwork or anything?” she asked in what Junebug thought might be a weak attempt at a joke. Instead of responding she reached out her hand.

“Let's make it a full repair of my ship and a million credits and you have yourself an extraction team,” Junebug offered. As expected Indra grasped her hand and shook it firmly.

“So what does Sven want with you?” Taya asked unexpectedly. Junebug had forgotten the young aristocrat was in the room until the moment she spoke.

“I mean I can see what the old Pasha wanted but Sven… I didn’t get the impression he was that interested in… in the normal human stuff.” If Indra was ashamed of her previous slavery to the Pasha she didn’t show it.

“I don’t know what he wants, perhaps to ransom me to my father?” Indra supposed. Junebug shook her head. Whatever else Sven was, he was certainly ambitious, she doubted he would be happy being the tin pot dictator of one city on an insignificant dustball for long. Whatever he had in mind for Indra it would be a bigger play than a simple ransom.

“How will you get in touch with my father, if your ship cant fly?” she asked, more at ease now that the deal had been struck.

“She can fly,” Junebug snapped, a little defensive at the idea that the Highlander was in that bad shape.

“Sorry, it's been a long couple of days,” she apologised, draining another glass of water and refilling it.

“What I meant to say is that she can fly, it's just we can't inset into the RIP without some serious repairs. As for how we will get in touch with your father… “ It was a fair question, there was no way to communicate between systems across interstellar distances. The usual protocol was to send message capsules, miniature spacecraft, or to have freighters and merchantmen carry news packets with them. As all systems paid a small fee to any ship transmitting a packet, most merchant ships did so as a matter of course, often allowing an automated system to handle the whole thing start to finish. There were rumors that the Terran had constructed a few array of quantum binaries, theoretical pairs of electrons, carefully separated so that they could use quantum entanglement to instantaneously transport data from one place to another, but that seemed more like campfire stories than anything Junebug was willing to put stock in.

“Neil really is the engineer on this boat,” she admitted grudgingly. While she could work on most systems with the aid of her helmet, she just wasn't the same sort of tinkerer that Neil was.

Via Stellarum

Political Entities

The League- ?

Corporate Quadrant Authority - An alliance of mega corporations that oversee several dozen worlds.