Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Eight

Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight

Tom Grier pushed himself up, the armor was feeling more natural to him now. He didn't know where the shooter was yet, with the old implants he would have access to information that would let him know immediately. Information from drones, counter-battery radar and many other things would have let him “see” the entire field of battle.

Now he was running from behind one building to another trying not to get hit by a very powerful sniper weapon. It had to be some kind of rail-gun, he knew that snipers in his Marine group carried some very long guns strapped to the back of their suits.

“The sniper knows exactly where we are!” He said into his local radio to the others, “We need to find better cover and take out whatever drones he has up.”

Sandy stopped and threw an explosive in the middle of the street. It created a crater that reached down into the sewage system, which was as much cover as they were going to get. They all climbed down into it.

Sandy began sending some messages that he could not hear. One of the other men set up a small sensor pod that quickly identified two drones flying overhead.

Tom Grier laid down in the muck and aimed his QBR-44 at one of the drones and fired a seven-round burst. At least three of the 18mm rounds homed in and took out the drone. The others exploded harmlessly at higher altitude.

“That other drone is taking a wider arc. It'll be back in about 6 seconds,” someone reported, and there it was, as predicted. It peeked over at them and then moved out of visual range before anyone could get shots off.

“We've been made!” someone said, “Everybody out!”

The armored-clad soldier began leaping out of the crater and Tom was about to join them when he noticed that Sandy was deep in conversation and hadn't heard. He grabbed her from behind and tossed her out of the crater just as shells began to land all around him.

Tom fired his quad-barrel rifle into the sky after switching to 'intercept'. Some of the incoming mortar rounds were taken out as his gun blared away. Several explosions pushed him around like a rag doll in the crater, but it didn't seem to do a lot of damage to the suit.

Finally there was a break and he leaped over the lip of the crater and ran towards what looked like a small stadium.

“I've located the sniper!” one of the team members reported.

“About time!” Tom yelled as he arrived at the location. He noticed that one of the armored soldiers was laid out on the ground, a large gaping hole in the suits abdomen. The humans too.

“Rex Reilly is dead,” someone told him, not that he was really familiar with these guys yet.

“On the roof of the tallest building, center of town,” Sandy said, “Can you hit that from here?”

The building in question rose much higher than the other buildings, it became quite narrow by the time it became a flat roof.

“You need to contact your father! Tell them to cancel the conference and get into hiding!” Tom said, although he knew that communications systems had probably all been jammed. The rebels had been able to break through that sometimes, he had seen since being captured, maybe she could get through.

Shots started breaking through the wall of the stadium, in rapid succession. Pang! Pang! Pang!

“You need to move to another spot, just keep moving,” Tom told them, “I'm going to go the other way, but as long as he is shooting at us, he isn't shooting at your father. No run.”

As soon as they reached the far end of the stadium Tom ran toward the tall building. The powered legs weren't yet as responsive as they had been with his enhancements, but they'd do. He heard shots hitting behind him and beside him as he ran. He also moved from side to side and then made abrupt turns down alleys and through at least parking garage.

…

Lieutenant Blade was frustrated as he adjusted the large gun again, moving it closer to the edge of the building. Someone down there in Free Republic Marine armor was running fast and trying to get close to his platform. That person had been with the rebels, Blade knew he had to take that suit out, “Traitor!” he muttered.

In his ear he heard from one of his team members near the conference hall, “No sign of the meeting coming together yet, they're all late!”

Then from his spotter, Bolton, across the street from the hotel, “They left the hotel room several minutes ago, they should be reaching the street level soon. Are you ready Blade?”

“Blast it!” He said, “We have rebels moving up on our six!”

“Our mission is to take out the rebel leaders!”

Lieutenant Blade threw the headset against the roof. He grabbed the gun assembly and swung the whole thing to the other side of the roof. Then he peered down at the entry of the hotel and saw nobody there.

“They aren't there! We've been given the slip, they must have found a back way out. Get down there and find them Bolton!” Blade ordered, then he swung it back to the other side and tried to find the rebel in the Free Republic Marine armor. “Bloody hell, this whole gig is going to crap!”

“Blade, I don't think the meeting is going to happen! They must have suspected something.”

“We need to pull out, get the Admiral to send down some shuttles!” Blade told the men surrounding the conference hall. He gave up on the traitor and went back panning to look for the rebels, his last drone was on the far side of the city. Soon enough he found them, lying low in a revetment. He wondered if these rebels planned to meet up with some of the runaway rebel leaders.

“What's the ETA on those shuttles?” He asked as he sighted in the big gun on the rebel position. If anyone showed up to meet them, that person was going to become soup.

“Seven minutes.”

A vehicle stopped near where the rebels were holding position. Blade focused in on the people exiting the vehicle. The gray-haired, bearded man looked familiar. It was “Jonah”, the man who had become a hero to all of Sync for standing against the Free Republic. The authorities had hunted him for years to no avail.

Blade grinned and decided to take out the leader of the rebellion.

Suddenly the gun swerved as if it had been pushed and Lieutenant Blade found himself thrown to the ground, he rolled once and stood up. The traitor in armor was on the roof with him. He spit.

“You're going to die here, traitor!” Blade yelled and pulled a handgun from the pocket on the side of his leg. The traitor rolled to the side faster than Blade could aim, then from a position on all four the armored figure launched directly at him. The tackle threw Blade onto his back, his handgun disappeared and the faceplate of the traitor was right in his face.

“Who are you?” The armored suit demanded.

“I was going to ask the same thing, traitor!” Blade said, trying to kick the rebel scum off, but the suit was too heavy. Blade relaxed as if he had spent all of his energy resisting the armored rebel.

“Listen to me, you must work for Admiral Robinson, the man is insane! The people of Sync just want to be left alone, they don't want to be at war against the Free Republic. They just want out,” Tom Grier tried to explain.

“There is no escaping from the Free Republic, traitor scum.”

…

“Nobody has to die, just some reasonable accommodation...” Tom was saying before he noticed that the sniper was twirling a finger on a hand Grier was holding against the roof. With a bad feeling he looked back to see the sniper rail gun swinging around to aim directly at him.

“Wrong. You have to die!” The sniper screamed just as Tom Grier rolled forward over the edge of the building and the loud blast splintered the whole edge of the rooftop and top floor. Grier had fallen two floors before the building moved outward and he crashed through a glass ceiling.

He looked up to see the sniper gun itself fall over the rooftop as well. Tom didn't see any sign of the sniper himself. Grier moved through the empty office and crashed through the door into the corridor and wondered briefly if the lifts would be working.

Tom Grier began descending the stairs but when he reached the tenth floor landing that oversaw the grand lobby below, he became the target of two armored figures. He hadn't had time to use his QBR-44 on the roof but it was still attached to the back of his armored suit. He pulled it forward.

The glass partitioned had been shattered by the firing from below. Many of the rounds were coming up through the floor and they were often too accurate. Again Tom missed the enhancements that would let him take out those enemies without even having to see them.

Instead he rolled toward the edge peered over with the gun at the ready and let go a twenty-round burst that shattered furniture and desks all around the two enemy soldiers. They had moved away behind a thick pillar and this gave Tom time to move down two more floors.

The glass partition had already been shattered when he arrived. Again the two armored figures opened fire on his position, forcing him to retreat toward the far wall. He selected explosive rounds on his battle rifle, he was running out of other ammunition. He walked up to the edge and fired a dozen explosive rounds downward.

The two figures tried to find cover behind a pillar and a low wall, but the explosive rounds were able to track and change course. The resulting explosions left a gaping hole to outside in the corner of the building, but the load-bearing pillar seemed mostly intact.

After reaching the ground floor Tom Grier didn't bother looking at the two armored suits that had been torn apart as he walked through the hole he had made. His battle rifle was nearly out of ammunition and he was tired. The suit required a lot more work without the enhancements that the rebels had removed from his head.

He found two men in civilian clothes on their knees with their hands behind their heads. They were surrounded by a half-dozen well-armed men without armor. When they saw Tom, two of them aimed their guns in his direction.

Suddenly a familiar face walked in front of him. General Gallant, who carried no weapon.

“This battle is over! Just leave,” The General told him. Tom would have taken him up on that quickly if Maggie Anders hadn't entered his field of vision.

“Maggie?” He asked, immediately realizing it was a mistake.

She looked surprised and then shocked. Her hand soon covered her mouth.

“You know each other?” The General asked, seeming amused, then to Tom, “The shuttles, our shuttles, will be here in a minute. You might want to become scarce. Unless you're coming back with us, that is. Which side are you on?”

“Tom!” Maggie said, “Come back. Come back to the ship with us.”

Tom opened the faceplate shield so they could see him. Maggie gasped. “I didn't defect, I was captured. They removed my implants.”

General Gallant made a face, “We can repair the damage.”

Tom tightened his jaw. “This war is wrong, General. These people just want to be left alone,” He said.

The General was impatient, “You and I don't make those decisions, soldier. We just follow them.”

Tom shook his head, Maggie stepped back. “I can think and feel for myself without the interface with the system, you know. The implants were the damage to my face. I think I know which side I belong to now.”

“Tom, no, no...” He heard Maggie cry as he turned and ran away at top speed.

…

Lieutenant Blade had crawled to the edge of the city where the Fleet shuttles had landed. A trail of blood was left behind him. Then Bolton had found him and helped him climb aboard. His legs and left forearm were pretty useless.

“The others?”

“They didn't make it, three are dead I think. some were taken into custody by the Marines,” Bolton reported. Admiral Robinson was going to be furious.

 ------Chapter Nine

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Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Seven

Chapter Six
My Books Page

Chapter Seven

“It works exactly like the Marine armor except you don't need your implants and you aren't controlled like a robot,” Sandy told him.

“It is my Marine armor!” Tom Grier said, examining the changes they had made to it, “What is this?”

Sandy pointed out the changes, “More powerful boosters, this armor could almost fly. The weight has been reduced significantly by removing much of the armor.”

Tom didn't think that sounded very good.

“Tom, you were trapped inside, remember? You could not move without the powered systems, it just weighed too much.” she told him, “It will mimic your movements instead of reading your mind, that will probably take some getting used to.”

He frowned, “What about the gun? Can I still use the QBR-44?”

Sandy nodded, “The actuators are still in place, it can carry the big gun. Just remember that the shells will hit what they are aimed at. They won't guide to target on their own, since you no longer have those implants. You'll need to do some practicing, but this cavern isn't really equipped for that.”

Tom put his hand to his face again. The entire left side seemed ruined, a thick patch covered where his left eye should be. That had been taken by the Free Republic when the implants went in, now he missed it although he emotionally blamed it on the rebels.

The implants and the control wave from the Free Republic Marines had given him a false bravery, allowing them to send people into battle who would normally have been too afraid to go. Human beings became automatons, just drones for the brass to use.

Two soldiers approached and saluted Sandy, they conversed on their suit radios and Tom heard nothing before the soldiers marched away. Their footsteps echoed across the cavern.

“Most of the civilians made it to safety, Tom!” She told him after the helmet on her suit retracted, “Some of my men are on their way back here. We're going to need to strike back hard and fast before they think we've been defeated.”

She started walking back toward the train. Tom watched and shook his head. Sandy still looked and sounded like a child to him, even if she was intelligent. He still had no idea how she could be a leader of the resistance here on Sync, but it didn't appear to be faked.

As far as Tom could see, though, this was a losing effort. There was nothing about this situation that should give these rebels hope of victory. They had just barely escaped from their last base as it was pulverized from orbit. Admiral James “Jim” Robinson must have gone completely over the bend, the rumors of his mental state must have been true.

He left the armored suit standing where it was and followed Sandy back to the tent next to the train where she was watching a holographic video. It was much smaller than the one which had filled a room back in the old base, but as he approached he saw what she was studying. It was a holographic representation of where the fleet was, up in high orbit.

“Sandy, you can barely scrape together enough armor for a hit and run attack on the ground, why are you looking at the fleet. We can't reach them.” He told her.

She smiled, “Tom, you only saw one base. That wasn't the entirety of the rebellion on Sync, you shouldn't assume things. There are bases all over, I won't give you any details right now, but I am very serious. The fleet needs to be hit, we need to show them that we won't be treated this way.”

Tom shook his head. “Sandy, you will need ships to reach the fleet. They'd be detected in seconds and destroyed before they even left the atmosphere. Most of your ships were taken out on the ground before they were even manned.”

“Assuming again, Tom,” She told him, “I'm glad that the fleet fell for that ruse so completely. Those ground-based defense ships were all ancient and obsolete. They were sitting there without crews because they were mothballed generations ago. They couldn't have flown anyway.”

Tom was confused. She smiled again, “Our real ships are better hidden.”

“So, you do have the resources to strike back at the fleet then?” Tom asked. She just nodded.

Several soldiers approached again. “We received a coded emergency message from one of our spies.”

Spies? Tom was shocked.

Sandy activated her helmet and indicated that they use radio, after a few minutes the others left and her helmet deactivated again.

“This is bad news.”

Tom pretended not to care, “Oh, I wouldn't know.”

Sandy paced. “It seems that Admiral Robinson has sent some agents into a city where leaders of the rebellion are planning to hold a conference. We let some things slip on purpose, it was to be a very low-level meeting, there have been many of those, and nothing for the fleet to really worry about. In truth, it's a high-level meeting and somehow the Admiral found out.”

“What can be done about it?” Tom asked, “If there is nothing we can do...”

“We have to warn them, but they are already in Valla and we can't communicate with them except in person. I'm going to need to send a team to stop Robinson's people from slaughtering them all,” Sandy said as she paced, “I can co-ordinate with some of the other rebel groups, have hit-and-run attacks in other regions to draw their attention. Anyway, this is really going to be more of a rescue mission.”

“Rescue?”

“We need to save them.”

Tom shook his head, “You told me the rebels didn't really have leaders. I was told that if someone dies others will take their place without a problem. Now you want to carry out something dangerous to save some of these interchangeable leaders. Something smells bad.”

“Tom. My father and my older sister are going to be there. They are also group commanders and they have no idea that the enemy knows what's going on in Valla,” Sandy said, “We are going to try and stop the fleet people from killing them.”

He was a bit shocked, “So this rebellion is like a family business?”

“My family was very trusted on this world. When things got really bad, we stepped up. My father appointed all of his children to head rebel groups, because he knew we could do it. We are going to intervene and stop this slaughter, and then we are going to attack the fleet directly,” Sandy told him, “My mind is already made up. Go get your suit on.”

City of Valla

The once thriving city and regional hub was now more of a ghost town. People still lived here but they ventured outside as little as possible. When a half-dozen of Robinson's people had showed up, they didn't know a ripple had been created. The people of Valla were aware that these newcomers were not like others from Sync.

None of the newcomers had paid the slightest attention to the mural in the hotel lobby, opposite the main desk and the entry to the ground-floor restaurant. The images of the settling, founding and independence of Sync was almost a holy monument to Sync nationals. They also used rough language that even the most weary rebels didn't use.

They might think they were incognito but they stood out like an white obelisk in a black desert.

When a second group of outsiders took up rooms at a hotel across the main avenue, there was a new ripple of gossip started. Something big was happening in Valla and it might be a good idea to just pack up and leave if one was able.

Maggie Anders closed the circuit and the window turned opaque again as she turned to face the General who was sitting on the bed next to the open trunk. He was assembling some weapons.

“Why is it so quiet down there? It almost looks like the city has been abandoned, but we know from sensor readings it hasn't,” She told him.

The General frowned, “Scared, I suppose. The war has ground commerce to nearly a halt, people are staying home and making their meager resources stretch. Pretty much the same for any war.”

Maggie looked down at the carpet, “Why are we here? You aren't going to fight against the Admirals forces, even if he's insane we're still on the same side, so why come?”

“The truth is, I plan to arrest his people after they carry out their attack. Robinson is stepping on too many toes and he needs to be put back in his place. His place is running the fleet, not running the war and especially not the ground war,” General Gallant told her.

She took a deep breath, “Why did you come here personally? Is it because you want Robinson to know you are the man in charge around here?”

He smiled creepily, “Damn right. Robinson needs to be put in his place, I'm the one to do it. He won't feel like a loser if it is anyone else. If we have to shoot some of his men for resisting arrest, then so be it. If that old fool wants to throw a big enough fit, I'll have him thrown into the brig, without his chair.”

“So, this should all be over by morning,” Maggie said, noting that the rebel meeting was supposed to start in only a few hours. Apparently these rebels had no idea that the Fleet and the Marines had learned of the meeting and infiltrated the city covertly.

…

The train had stopped nearby where it was still too deep for the fleet sensors to penetrate. After that Tom, wearing his suit, had joined a dozen other soldiers and Sandy in walking. Now that they were getting nearer the surface and Valla was a stones throw away, Tom was nervous.

The suit did not anticipate his movement, Tom had to move and the suit would move with him. It took more effort than it had with the mind linked. He also noted that fear and nerves were present, something that signals from the fleet through the suit would have blocked completely. Tom also had to actually read the HUD readouts because he didn't know them automatically.

More than anything, the idea of going into combat against Marines scared him. He still thought of their system as superior. He still thought the rebels were fighting a losing effort. Tom didn't know if he could ever return to the fleet without his implants or ever return home under the present regime of the Free Republic. So he would fight, for now at least, he would fight for Sync.

“We are nearly in range for local communications,” He heard Sandy say over the com. He knew she planned to alert her father immediately that the enemy had found them out. Tom didn't know what would happen afterward but the Admirals people were not going to be happy if the meeting was canceled.

“We are just below the surface now,” She informed them, “Hold here. I think we should be under one of the outer buildings, this must be the Crest building.”

Tom looked up and thought it still looked like caverns. “Is there a way out?”

“Another fifty meters and we can exit to the surface in the Garden,” one of the other soldiers told him.

The city of Valla was surrounded by domed gardens, these acted as greenhouses where a lot of the local vegetables and fruits were grown. Tom knew that some of the gardens had been destroyed, he remembered at least bombing run by Onyx flight early in the fighting. It had just been chatter before, now he was part of it first hand. It certainly seemed a lot more real now.

Once they arrived at the hatch it took several armored soldiers to push it open and then they slipped up and out. Tom followed and rolled out of the opening to see himself surrounded by trees and high grass and he could see the broken dome that surrounded them.

“Okay, we have to cross toward the center of town. We will probably get detected before we arrive at the conference hall. Be on the lookout and be careful, they might have someone in a sniper position somewhere. We might not even know where they all are,” Sandy explained to them, “The reports I have just gotten say that two rooms in the Banner hotel have been occupied by outsiders. My sources indicate that no armor was seen.”

That was good news, but it wouldn't take a half-hour for armored troops to arrive if the enemy wanted them there. Hopefully it would give them time to rescue the rebel leaders, and if the enemy wanted to fight armored rebels they could leave them with bloody noses.

“Follow me,” Sandy told them, suddenly holding a smaller, slimmer rifle than everyone was carrying. Tom hadn't seen where it had come from.

…

Lieutenant Rocky Blade had assembled the battle rifle and tripod. He was on the roof of the Starrion building near the center of Valla. It was the tallest building in the city and he had a birds-eye view of everything.

“Assets in place?” He asked through the implanted com system.

“Roger that.”

“This is going to be fun,” Blade told himself. He had already sighted the eight-foot rail gun on the location of the rebel meeting. It was a former library, apparently. With the others in their place it was only a matter of waiting for the rebel leaders to show up, then he would unleash hell.

The rail gun fired a large “bolt” at such high velocity that it would be able to go through the building as if it were made of butter. Shards from the building would radiate out like a grenade, tiny pieces of sharp metal, plastic, marble, concrete and plaster that would tear flesh. If a person were hit by the bolt itself, they'd basically explode. Blade planned to put a hundred holes into that building, nobody would escape the onslaught.

All eyes on the meeting hall.

“Birdie Five to High Point.”

“This is High Point, go ahead,” Lt Blade answered, not liking the interruption.

“We have movement to the southwest, possible enemy activity.”

Blade sighed, “Are they on the way to the meeting? I thought they might be staying somewhere closer.”

“Negative, these are not meeting participants... I see something... we have armored rebel troops inbound!”

Blade grabbed the big gun and swung it around, “Send me the live signal, I want to see where they are, now!”

…

“We've only got a couple blocks to go!” Sandy told them, “Anyone see anything yet?”

Nobody had. Suddenly Tom Grier got a bad feeling. “I'm so stupid!”

“What is it Tom?” Sandy asked, stopping.

“We're too exposed, the Admiral probably has people on the highest ground.” He told them, silence, “The rooftops, check the high rooftops!”

“We did, our drones didn't see anything anywhere near the meeting hall.” someone answered.

“They won't be that close, check the highest buildings first. Send a drone now!” Tom exhorted them.

Suddenly the wall of the building next to them exploded, a chunk of it hit Tom and knocked him down but one of the other armored soldiers was thrown several feet and a gaping hole had opened in the suit, blood and guts had flown everywhere.

“Move fast, move!” Sandy yelled, “Do not stop! Get up Tom!”

…  -- Chapter Eight

Chapter Six
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Chronometer Brotherhood- Short Story

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Chronometer Brotherhood

by Floyd Looney

“What be you goin' on about now, eh?” The old man with few teeth asked the hag of a woman whose hair poked out under a cloth cap like straw. Both dressed in dirty rags like everyone else in this fetid city.

“I seen it!” She insisted, with a hiss and wide eyes as if she had seen an apparition.

“You're making it up. Dreamin, I'd say,” the man told her. He looked back and forth to see if anyone else was out and about and saw hardly a soul, no one else paid them any mind. He almost made a start at seeing a dead horse farther up the block.

“No, I seen it. I saw a room with lights and buttons...” She was saying, the man grabbed her arms roughly and pulled her inside the shack.

“Now you listen, witch,” he told her, “Don't you be spreadin' these stories, you hear? They be the dragon people, you never talk about the dragon people. They know if you talk about them, they'll find you and make you disappear.”

The womans face bunched up into a hideous smile, “I not care if I dis-pear. Life ain't worth nothing no way. If'n you want me to not talk, you gives me food!”

Dorgan closed his eyes and sighed. Sure, he could give her some spuds and maybe a couple turnips but she'd only be back for more in a couple days. The old bat didn't know nothing about the Brotherhood, but she had seen something she shouldn't have. Eventually, she was going to have to be put out of action.

Just not today.

“I give you some food, you forget about the lights and the dragon people. If you be telling anyone, they take your life away,” Dorgan told her, she didn't care. She was just wanting the food, it was hard to come by these days.

He grabbed some spuds, turnips and an ear of corn from the cupboard. Dorgan watched her stuff everything in her pockets. She seemed happy as a clam. That night she would make a stew of it and eat her fill. Dorgan pitied her, times were hard for everyone, but it didn't make anything easier.

“Just don't be looking happy when you leave! You'd be robbed before you walk to corner,” he told her as he untied the rope and pulled the door open for her. After she left he tied it up again. Then he went back to the kitchen and opened another small door near the cupboard. It had a combination lock, he set in the numbers and pulled it open.

Inside there was a ladder that went down. He climbed down the forty rungs to the bottom and turned directly around toward the only door that wasn't impending death. It was barely lit, but there were eight doors all around the tiny chamber. Only one wouldn't kill you.

He pulled it open and found himself in the antechamber and needed a different code for the door he found there. After he punched it in, he opened it and entered the hive. There were six members of the Brotherhood at the display units, one of them looked up.

“Dorgan, you could have just slit her throat and been done with it,” The clean-shaven younger man said with a grin, “You might have to do it in a few days anyway.”

“We won't miss a few potatoes.”

The man laughed, “Of course not. Now get out of those stinking rags and get in uniform, we have a meeting soon about the situation in London. It seems one of the little princes is about to be killed in an attempted regicide by an uncle seeking the throne.”

Dorgan shook his head. “Can we fix it? If we save the boys life, does he grow up to kill his brother for the throne?”

The young man shrugged, “Not my call. Whatever makes more future profit, I guess.”

The conference room was full of blue short-sleeves and white name-tags. Dorgan was the oldest one present, his job as Topside Liaison brought him into contact with outsiders, where age brought a certain amount of respect.

“Prince Hubert, brother of the King who is about to kick the bucket, is going to make a play for the throne as soon as the death is confirmed. He has one of his loyal swords working in the royal dining room, this man is instructed to kill Prince James and Prince Charles at the signal,” The mid-30's Chief told those gathered, a large screen behind him had images of the people he named, or “players” as the Brotherhood called them.

“We know that he'll have time to kill only one and that he kills Charles in most of the time-lines that we have surveyed. Which normally leads to King James who almost always rules pretty wisely, but not always. This time we want to try something new. Instead of seeing James killed, which never worked well, we want to see both boys survive.”

The people around the room muttered to each other and some people were nodding their heads.

The man opened a folder, “I think it would be best to send Lester to work at the castle, we have an “in” of course. Lester is trained in sword fighting and since he knows what is about to happen, he can get the drop on Hubert's assassin and pin the blame on Hubert as well.”

Lester hadn't been topside before. Dorgan stood up, “Isn't he a bit green to be sent on such an assignment?”

The Chief nodded slightly, “Well, that is true, and we have recognized that. This is why we aren't sending him alone.”

Dorgan didn't like where that was going.

“Which is why you are going with him.”

And there it was. What rotten luck. Dorgan wished to spend as little time up top as necessary but now he would be away for an extended amount of time. This was not a good thing, the longer you were outside of the stasis, the harder it was to get back in.

The King was ill and the retinue and courtiers were waiting hand and foot for their ailing master, while gossiping about the future. Very few paid attention to the boys who were woken, dressed and escorted downstairs by their personal attendants.

“Good morning Charles,” A sunny James told his brother as they entered, seeing each other for the first time since the previous breakfast.

“Hello, James.” Charles answered. Both boys were worried about their father, the King, but Charles was having a harder time putting up a brave face. Dorgan could tell from all the way across the room as he started stirring the porridge again. Several other servants scuttled about, and there was Lester near the window in a ridiculous uniform with frills about the neck, Dorgan thought it looked clownish.

Suddenly there was a shout upstairs and the sound of a breaking vase. One of the guards moved away from the door and strode quickly toward the boys who were still surprised by the noises, thinking it had to do with their father. The guard pulled out his sword as he walked, then Lester did the same moving from the other direction.

“Get down!” Dorgan shouted and both boys suddenly became alert and climbed under the table just as Lester and the guard swung their swords at each other. It was Lester who took the brunt and lost his balance, then the other man took advantage and slashed Lester on his sword arm at the shoulder, causing him to drop his sword.

“Stop!” Dorgan shouted and threw a container of hot porridge at the swordsman, which hit him in the face as he looked for its source. The hot stew burned him too and he screamed as he dropped the sword to try and wipe it off of his skin. Dorgan swiftly moved and shoved a large knife into the mans gut, upward toward the vital organs.

The man collapsed and Dorgan helped him fall slowly and soon laid the body on the floor.

Young James and Charles, still preteens were out from under the table when many of the courtiers and servants ran into the dining hall.

“Oh, good heavens!” A school-marmish woman yelled and ran to the boys.

“What happened here?” An officer in the royal guards demanded.

“That man on the floor attacked us, these men saved our lives,” Young James told everyone. Lester! Dorgan moved to where he was lying against the wall cradling his bloody right arm.

“This man is injured, he needs help.”

Several servants swarmed over and carried Lester away.

“That assassin was working for Prince Hubert,” Dorgan told them, “I've seen them together.”

Then James and Charles got a good look at the dead man, “It's Taro! That's Prince Huberts right-hand man!”

The newly crowned King James declared Dorgan as “Savior-Protector” which came with a weighty medal around his neck and a pension of 20 pound a year. The King also asked Dorgan to stay, to act as a surrogate father. Prince Hubert, who should have fulfilled such a role, was set to be executed the next morning.

“You, as Regent, can help rule the kingdom until I'm old enough!” The boy told him.

“Me?” Dorgan asked. He was going to reject the offer, he had to really, but he saw a look swiftly cross Charles' face and vanish. Something about that fleeting face made him think about it.

“If I may be of service, your majesty, I will do as asked. I do not know how long I can remain in your service, but I shall obey.” He said, kneeling.

“Splendid!” The boy king said, cheerily.

Dorgan had sent Lester back to the Brotherhood. There had to be some way to fix this, he didn't want to spend too much time away from Stasis. He was too old for this stuff and what did he know about being Regent anyway?

“Parliament will approve, I think,” said one of the King's officers, then to Dorgan, “I'll have some documents for you to look at before the sun sets, Lord Regent. Do you wish to witness the execution of Prince Hubert?”

“Not particularly. No. Unless it's one of my new duties, of course.”

Lester had one message for the Brotherhood, “Get me out of this mess.”

  end
----

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Prisoner of the Stone - Chapter Six

Chapter Five
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Prisoner of the Stone is a working title for an on-going story, rough draft, that I am posting on my blog. About once a week, maybe more if I am inspired, I will post new chapters.

Chapter Six

“Are you quite sure there are no other dragons?” Aron asked idly as the two relaxed in a field that lowers into a swampy bog. The human had eaten enough mutton, the dragon had brought it back from his regular feedings, to keep him full all day.

The dragon flicked its tail, banging it into the ground once which felt to the human as if a tremor from the depths of the earth had become angry, “I told you that I do believe I am all that is left of my kind on this planet.”

“I can understand your feelings about people, although I do not agree with them. What I don't understand is why you eat humans?” Brother Aron asked the annoyed dragon.

The dragon sighed, “The real reason?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay then,” The dragon said, laying his head down facing the human, “Humans are an excellent source of protein. Animals are spread out and flee at the first sign of trouble, but conveniently, humans are all gathered together in clutches. The fat layer is also good for my brain, although regretfully, most of the time there are precious few fat humans. Even then, they are usually the important people in a society, your kings and princes, monks and priests and not easily encountered. By the way, you should finish that mutton before we leave.”

Aron didn't feel like finishing this conversation, “I'm going to relieve myself by that tree.”

The dragon made some disturbing giggling sounds.

They had traveled “too far” into the future. The dragon that lied about its name being Grotiss seemed to have been quite spooked by something. It had immediately turned on its invisibility and headed for a nearby unoccupied island.

“Why are we coming here?” Aron had asked. He was curious to see this world of the distant future.

“There are far too many humans, I can smell them,” The dragon had grumbled, then he projected into the humans mind, 'We will rest here before we go back.'

“We stink, then?”

“You wouldn't believe it if I could explain in words,” The dragon said before shaking its head enough to make the human hide behind a fallen log, 'They must be spreading like disease, like a plague.'

Brother Aron laughed, “That does sound improbable. It suggests that humankind has finally found new and more effective ways to grow food, for one thing.”

“Maybe,” The dragon said, “But something tells me to get out of here as soon as I am able. There is a sulphuric smell in the air, it permeates. There may be a high volume of volcanic activity on Earth in this time period. The air might be turning poisonous.”

Then they rested. The dragon seemed uneasy the whole time, at one point the dragon poked its head up above the trees on the island and looked around. Brother Aron was confused because the dragon was looking up, but he admitted to himself that he did not understand how dragons smell.

It was cold but the dragon warmed up the rocks instead of allowing the human to build a fire, as if it was afraid of being discovered.

“You are a dragon, surely there is nothing here that should frighten you,” Brother Aron said, “It's definitely not another dragon?”

The dragon looked at him sharply, 'Stop asking that, I have already answered.'

While exploring the wooded area nearby Brother Aron made a discovery of an old campsite. Rocks in a circle, gray ashes inside, logs on either side for sitting. There had been people on this island within the past few months. The most curious thing was that he found a cylindrical metal tin, he'd seen nothing like it before.

There was some sort of writing on it, letters that seemed familiar but also not familiar. He had no ideas what the text was, there was only legible spot near what looked like an illustration of an animal. The animal looked a lot like a hound but different from any he had ever seen. Could hound meat be preserved inside of a metal tin, he wondered? If food, not just dry grain, could be preserved for long terms then it would make sense that the population could swell.

Before he could climb on the dragons back a sudden storm hit the island. The rain did not touch the dragon, his magic forced it to go around. Brother Aron sat on the ground next to the dragon and leaned on its foreleg.

“Are we staying?” Aron asked.

“Too much electricity in the sky, it might have an adverse effect on my transversion,” The dragon told him. Aron didn't know the word but he assumed it meant the time traveling.

'Stay near me and you'll remain dry. I'm going to take a nap.'

The dragon only slept for short periods every two or three days, even with all of the activity, hunting and time traveling that it was conducting. It was amazingly little rest for such an enormous creature.

Aron laid down and used a dragon paw as a headrest. Part of him wondered if that was wise, being in close proximity to sheathed foot-long claws, but he was asleep before finishing the thought.

He dreamed of giant cities with buildings that reached into the sky, of machines that moved themselves, of great ships bigger than the island he was on. Aron did not understand the things he was seeing and when he began seeing large silver flying machines crossing oceans, he knew it was some kind of nightmare that the dragon was having. It was somehow being shared with him.

Then he saw a city reduced to rubble in a flash and woke up.

Brother Aron rubbed his face, it was sweat. The rain had not penetrated the magic of the dragon, but the dragon was grumbling and moaning in its sleep.

“It's not real!” Brother Aron said loudly, “It is just a nightmare!”

Brother Aron felt he could understand why the dragon would have such nightmares. The dragon had seen a time when his people and humans had been friends, then they had become enemies and the more numerous humans had hunted them to extinction. At least in this realm.

Of course there would hate and, in some ways, fear of humans. Those memories and feelings would form a furious storm inside of the dragons mind. It made some sense, as a theory. Brother Aron sat and waited for the dragon to wake up.

The dragon woke up in an hour.

“You were having a nightmare,” Aron told him, “What was it?”

The dragon shook his head, 'A dream of you eating me. Climb on.'

Aron briefly laughed. “I don't think I would ever eat you.”

The dragon growled, 'I'm sure you have my best interests at heart. Brother Aron.'

Aron was aboard and the dragon took to flight. Of course, Aron understood, I should not delude myself into thinking we might become friends. This dragon must be banished to its own realm or killed for the good of the human race it wants to extinguish.

Dragons live outside of time. Their path may weave through time and realms but their life itself, while long, was linear. Aron did not understand it, the dragon had said as much but would never answer any questions on the subject. A dragon could not go back in time a thousand years and be with its friends again. Those friends were dead, and their presence in those times disappeared as if they never existed.

No wonder the dragon was so angry.

----------------

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Escape From The Free Republic - Chapter Six

Chapter Five 
My Books Page

Chapter Six

“Going silent!” the public address system announced as lights notched down to a tenth of their normal brightness and machines shut down. Tom Grier even heard the dying hum of the air circulation system being shut off.

“What is going on?” Tom asked as an armored guard and Sandy entered the room. She was wearing her weird armored suit, but the helmet had been slid to the back.

“Fighters from the fleet seem to be flying scout missions in the area,” Sandy said, “I don't know why they would use fighters for that.”

Tom frowned, “Onyx Flight is based on the carrier Umbrage, they are completely loyal to Admiral Robinson and report directly to him.”

Sandy looked confused, “Why does that matter?”

Tom sighed, “There is always a power struggle in the military forces since the new regime took power in the Free Republic. The Generals are supposed to run the ground war, they are supposed to be giving orders to us Marines. Admiral Robinson has been taking personal control and if he using Onyx Flight to gather intel, that means he isn't sharing it.”

He could see the gears start moving in her head.

“Okay, whatever. Maybe we can use that information against them eventually, but right now I'm concerned with how they decided to scan this region,” Sandy replied.

“Scan this region?”

“It seems they somehow narrowed down their search...”

“They're carrying out sensor sweeps, they probably already know where we are! Are there villages or cities nearby?” Tom asked her, she shook her head in the negative, “We need to get far away from here!”

“Why?” She asked, “We're protected by a mountain.”

Tom closed his eyes, “Do you think that mountain is going to slow down a fleet in orbit? Do you think they might have trouble lobbing missiles over it? Of course not. We need to move, now.”

“There is no way they detected us. All of our signals are masked, anything getting out is easily less than the background noise.”

Tom Grier laughed, “Don't you think the fact that the sensors are detecting less than normal background readings from one place is highly suspicious? Of course their algorithms look for that.”

Sandy looked alarmed. She opened the door where other armored soldiers were standing, “General Evacuation, now! Through the tunnels! No time to pack!”

Tom followed through the corridors, now frenetic with activity, and watched as the soldiers guided the refugees and civilians toward lower and lower areas. The tunnels Sandy mentioned must be deeply buried, he decided.

“Follow me, Tom,” Sandy said, her armored bodyguards fell into line behind him and they began moving faster. He followed her down a main corridor and then down a darker off-shoot where they soon met a double metal door.

Sandy pressed in a code and they swooshed open. Inside was a cavern and what looked like a silver monorail train. Six armored soldiers soon followed them into the cavern before the metal doors shut. Tom watched as the side of the train opened and the armored soldiers sat on the seats revealed, leaving just enough room for Sandy, himself and the two armored bodyguards.

“What about the other soldiers?” He asked.

“They're evacuating the civilians!” Sandy answered.

“You can't win a war by sending your troops to direct traffic!”

“I don't want to win a war where we let the enemy slaughter civilians!” Sandy responded. Suddenly the communicator on her armband went off. She activated the hoolo-display but it was audio-only.

“We have incoming!”

“Fighters?”

“No, we have bombardment salvos from the fleet incoming!”

Tom didn't wait any longer, he climbed aboard the train and the other half closed tight. Very quickly the train was moving at very high speeds.

Sandy was sending a message to some of the soldiers on the evacuation team. Tom could only hear the audio response.

“Roger. We are in the deep level. We are moving as fast as we can... What the... sounds like a quake! The grounds shaking! Oh my...!”

Sandy put a hand over her face. When she saw Tom watching she hit a button on her wrist and the helmet on her chrome suit slid forward and the faceplate slid across her features. Tom imagined thousands of refugees and civilians trying to escape through collapsing tunnels.

Natural quakes were extremely rare on Sync. There was no possible covering this up. Admiral Robinson had thrown out any ethics he might have had. There was no way the Generals would have ordered such a bombardment against an enemy that had no way to threaten the fleet.

“This Admiral Robinson you mentioned. Is he the one who ordered the bombardment?” Sandy asked through her suit radio.

Tom nodded, “It had to be him.”

“This is the act of a mad man.”

Tom agreed, “There have been rumors for a long time that he wasn't completely sane, even in Marine Boot Camp. I was a bit surprised to be posted to the Umbrage.”

The train began slowing down. Sandy stood up and her helmet moved back, exposing her head again. Her eyes were red and her face showed where tears had fallen. Otherwise it was the face of anger.

“I think it's time for you to try on your new suit, Tom.”

Carrier Umbrage Command & Control Center

Everything had gone quiet. Everyone was standing and staring at the holographic display of Sync that dominated the center of room. Generals and Colonels they had never seen before had entered and were also simply staring in disbelief.

The fleet had just fired off a volley of fifty orbital impact devices at a mountain in the Far Plains Section of Sync. The mountain was reduced to a hill, the surrounding area had been flat but was now a small valley. The dust thrown into the air was going to blanket the northern hemisphere of Sync within hours.

Marine General Jesse Gallant finally broke the silence, “Dear God in heaven.”

Colonel Mortimer didn't take his eyes off the holographic display, “We were told nothing about the flight activities and the intel they had about that location. There is nothing short of the presence of anti-orbit weapons that would justify this.”

“All Marine units and assets are reported accounted for and safe, General,” someone reported.

Lieutenant General Roscoe Edwards walked up to Gallant, in a loud whisper he said, “Someone has to do something about Admiral Robinson!”

“General, sir!” Controller Four tried to get his attention. He remembered her, she was named Maggie Anders. He walked to her, followed by Edwards and Mortimer.

“What is it?” He asked, also wondering how old this little girl was.

“Team Five of the 2nd EMU is reporting that shuttles have been seen near the North Plains section. They monitored them with drones. It seems like Admiral Robinson is moving assets into the city of Valla, but they were all dressed as Sync civvies,” Maggie Anders reported.

“So now the Mad Hatter is running covert ops on the ground!” Colonel Mortimer complained, “Who does he think he is?”

“I think we can play that game too,” General Gallant said, “You two join me in my office, we have some planning to do.”

Umbrage Admiral's Ward

Admiral James “Jim” Robinson was lying on his bunk. The chair hovered silently next to it. His left leg had been cut at the knee, he lost a bit more on the right. He was staring at the ceiling. It was supposed to be his rest period but he wanted to hear any updates on the Valla operation as soon as they came in.

Commander Grabble had already been in to report that the insertion of the covert units had been a complete success. The prime operation was being led by a Lieutenant Blade, who Grabble said was “completely loyal” to the cause. Loyalty counted more than anything else, of course.

The Free Republic was now led by a man who Robinson had once dismissed as an awful con-man unworthy of trust. As a candidate the man had taken out his opponents one by one using the most vile and dishonest means. The man saw that the ends justified the means, and the only coin in the realm was complete loyalty.

“The Free Republic can be great again! I will make it great again!” The man had vowed to large crowds at rallies. He promised them nothing but hyperbolic rhetoric. They only thought he had promised them what they had wanted.

The Admirals thoughts wandered back to Sarah. How he missed her. More than words could express. He devoured any news account that mentioned her, but recently the mentions were few and far between. As an advisor and aide to the ruler of the Free Republic she used to make speeches extolling his fictitious virtues while slamming and denouncing any and all dissent.

One of the skeletons in the closet for the new ruler was a small asteroid that had been hollowed out and remade into a paradise for very wealthy thrill seekers. For a price you could rape and snuff the life out of a child. It had been his first mission for the ruler to make it go away. James Robinson had personally flown the long-range craft that delivered the atomic devices, turning the asteroid into an expanding cloud of pebbles.

The new ruler of the Free Republic had many flaws, but these were dwarfed by his virtues. The trivialities of his immoral life had to be glossed over, because he was going to make the Free Republic Great Again. Loyalty was going to make it great again.

There was a knock and soon Commander Grabble was standing at attention.

“We have received word that the rebel meeting at Valla will take place in 26 standard hours. Our assets are getting into place, it looks like the operation is a go.”

Admiral Robinson nodded, “Good. Make sure they understand that possible collateral damage is not to get in the way of this mission. It must succeed no matter how much of Valla is taken out.”

Commander Grabble saluted, “Yes sir!”

---- Go to Chapter Seven

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Cover Pictures (Fail)

 

Only the last one of these is becoming a real story. The rest are just idle ideas I had while playing with GIMP.

REGICIDE - Possibly a political intrigue story involving the murder of the leaders of the country in a decapitation strike by elements of the military.

 I am not really interested in writing it.

COUP - More or less the same story.

Emperor of America - A time of turmoil in the US is taken advantage of by shadowy forces. They take control behind the scenes and lead the nominations of both parties. One of them is chosen as the future dictator of America while the other has no shot. He has deep skeletons in his closet, which include bodies. His downfall ensures that the allies of the future Emperor win by a landslide.

RESET: A man is sent back through time and finds himself a twelve year old again. Even though he knows some future events and can use that to his advantage, many of the good memories are not happening this time around.

What looked like an opportunity for immense wealth is becoming a nightmare.

 

Graves of Mars -The second expedition to Mars arrives with a somber mood, they are expected to investigate the tragic failure of the first expedition. They all died and nobody is sure what happened.

Save Me: She is haunted by her own ghost which has come from the future to warn her and keep herself from dying. Maybe it was her own imagination, nobody would really believe her... except maybe her boyfriend. Unless he is the prime suspect of course.








Derelict - 500 years after a war with aliens that isolated humans to thirteen far-flung colony worlds with no way to communicate or travel to each other, a prospector ship finds a massive ancient battleship.

Can they fix it and make it operational, will their government take it away, will using it alert and bring back the aliens who once turned them into a primitive species....

I have 2 chapters at Wattpad, but nothing has really happened yet. It's all just set up so far.