Fringe Runner (Fringe Series Book 1) (13 page)

Truth in Words

The bombing didn’t stop until long after dark, deep into the dead hours. Reyne tried to ignore the phase cannons by keeping busy, but every blast made his breath catch and his heartache. When the bombardment finally faded, he stood and waited for more. For never-ending minutes, he waited. When hope filled him that the hellfire raining down on Ice Port was finally over, he hustled to the bridge.

Throttle was napping. Demes was busy working, and Reyne worried what secrets the tech was sifting through now, but he brushed past the pirate and to his captain’s chair. Immediately, he scanned the Ice Port channels for chatter, but the smothering silence meant that the drones were still in place.

And so the waiting game began.

*

Three days later, the drones finally pulled out from Playa’s orbit, and the static replaced the silence on all channels. Unfortunately, there was nothing but static. No calls for help, no search crews, nothing. Reyne repeatedly tried to reach Vym, with no success. He sent a message to Kason, who he hoped had stayed on Alluvia after United Day, but had still to receive a response.

The only good news was that Demes was able to get word to Critch, who would reach Ice Port in less than two days at jump speed.

And so the waiting game continued.

*

When the
Honorless
landed at Tulan Base, it filled up the expanse. For a moment, Reyne considered the possibility that the ship would never make it through the cavern entrance, but the all-black ship sailed through with a few feet to spare on each side. It taxied and parked alongside the
Gryphon
, dwarfing the smaller gray ship.

Demes jumped from the station he sat at in the control room and stood alongside Reyne and watched the ship power down. Reyne could sense the excitement rolling off the young pirate. “Go on, get those files decrypted.”

Demes jogged outside toward the
Honorless
, meeting Critch and several crewmembers as they emerged. They stopped and spoke before Demes continued to the pirate ship.

Reyne waited until Critch reached the building, and opened the door. “Welcome to Tulan Base.”

Critch stepped inside and looked around, and Reyne could tell the man was trying to figure out how he hadn’t known that a base this size existed. He shot a look at Reyne. “You could’ve killed Demes and kept this place all to yourself.”

“I could have, but that wouldn’t fit in my plans.”

“I assume the torrents I left in your care are still breathing?”

Reyne nodded. “They’ve been helping get this place up and running. Most of them are decent workers. Right now, they’re in the lower levels, freshening up the living quarters. They like to stay where it’s warmer.”

“They’re used to worlds that have ten times the temperatures of Playa,” Critch said. “It sounds like you’re setting up to play house here. While I’ll admit it would make an excellent smuggler’s dock, what exactly do you plan to do with this base?”

Reyne motioned around him. “Welcome to the Uprising’s Playa base of operations.”

If Critch’s thoughts matched his expression, he didn’t believe Reyne. “You believe in the Uprising now?”

“Always have.”

Critch watched him for a moment. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t bring me all the way here just so Demes could use his gear?”

“You’re right, though I won’t know if your trip was worth it until Demes is done decrypting the files. We have some time to burn.” Reyne nodded in the direction of the
Honorless
. “I’m guessing a ship that size has at least one hovercraft for getting around the surface.”

“You haven’t been to Ice Port yet,” the pirate said, a hollow intonation to his voice.

Reyne swallowed. “We wanted to look for survivors, but we don’t have any ground transport. That’s one thing sorely lacking in this base.”

Critch shook his head. “Don’t bother. There aren’t any survivors. We scanned the surface from orbit.”

“Most of Ice Port is below ground. You wouldn’t pick up heat signatures.”

The pirate’s lips thinned. He may have frowned, but his features were hard to make out through the scars. “It wouldn’t make a difference.”

Reyne stood firm.

He sighed. “No one drives my lander except me.”

“I’ll have my crew show your men around while we’re gone,” Reyne said. “They’ll help you refuel. After that, they’ll put your crew to work. There’s plenty of stuff around here that still needs done.”

Critch grunted, turned around, and headed out the door.

Reyne followed him to the
Honorless
, up its ramp, and on board
.
He unsnapped his holster, ready to draw his gun the moment the man tried something. Once he entered the ship, his step faltered. The
Honorless
wasn’t just a pirate ship. It was a state-of-the-art spacecraft that looked every bit ready to go to war.
The hallways were lined with weapons and gear. “I take it you don’t get stopped by CUF patrols often.”

Critch kept walking. “They’re easy to avoid if you know what to look for. Even stealth can be tracked with the right sensors.” He opened a thick door and headed down metal stairs.

Docked within the belly of the ship sat a hovercraft easily as large as Vym’s. It was set up differently, though. Instead of rows of seats, the back was a large flatbed, making it ideal for smuggling.

Critch climbed into the pilot’s seat and buckled in. Reyne had barely climbed onto his seat and shut the passenger door when the engine started and the craft lifted off the floor. Critch hit a button, and a ramp door on the
Honorless
opened. The pirate wasted no time in taking the hovercraft down the ramp and onto the runway.

Reyne held on and buckled in. They didn’t speak as they burst out from the base and into daylight. Reyne looked over to see the pirate glowering. “You hate me that bad, huh.”

Critch turned a hard eye on Reyne. “I don’t hate you. I see you as a risk to the Uprising. The same way that bioterrorist attack was a blight on Sol Base, Aramis Reyne is a blight on the fringe. You are a reminder how a single man was able to take down the Uprising.”

Reyne turned away. He’d received various levels of animosity across the fringe for the past two decades. Most, he could brush off. But, Critch had been his best friend at one time. A man he’d taken under his wing because he’d seen a reflection of his own passion in that man’s eyes. Critch’s candor was like a broken sword tip burrowed deep in Reyne’s heart.

“I hated you once,” Critch added. “When I learned that you gave up our location, and I had to watch thousands of men and women get slaughtered. Eventually, I realized you taught me a valuable lesson. You taught me that no one could ever be trusted, no matter how close they are to you. I have to hand it to you, Reyne. You were a damn good actor. You had me fooled that you believed in the Uprising.”

“I believed in it as much as you did. I still do.”

Critch chuckled in a way that made it clear he didn’t believe Reyne one bit. “I should be thanking you. That lesson helped make me the richest pirate in the fringe.”

Reyne pursed his lips. “I don’t want to waste my energy looking over my shoulder all the time because I can’t trust you. I’d rather spend my energy on something productive. The Collective has treated colonists like scum for too long. I plan to change that, even if I have to fly right through the space barrier and bring the fight to Myr’s doorsteps. You and I made a good team once, and I know that it will take both of us, united, to give this new Uprising a chance. I’m asking for a second chance to work together so we can see that the Uprising is done right this time around.”

Critch chortled. “I’m a pirate. We don’t give first chances, let alone second chances.” He pondered his next words. “But I’ll give your proposal some consideration.”

“You do that,” Reyne said. He could make out Ice Port on the horizon, and he leaned forward. The horizon had changed. Where the massive space docks had climbed into the clouds, a pile of twisted metal and stone lay.

Ice Port had few structures above ground due to its extreme weather, but there were no signs of those buildings now. Even the slopes of the caves and caverns that sheltered the city’s stores and homes lay collapsed into the ground. “No wonder they bombed the colony for so long.”

“They wanted to be thorough,” Critch said. “Viggin’ CUF.”

As they approached the city, Reyne could make out no sign of civilization from the rubble. No stationhouse, no streets, no entrances to the cavernous underground. Anyone who survived the bombing would’ve died from exposure by now.

Critch slowed down, but the scenery never changed. The utter destruction was worse than anything Reyne had ever seen during the first Uprising. The CUF had wiped Ice Port completely off Playa.

Reyne found it hard to breathe through the heaviness settling in his chest. “Let’s head back.”

*

Demes was waiting for them on the
Honorless
when they returned to Tulan Base.

“Tell me you got it,” Reyne said curtly.

Demes glanced at Critch.

“No,” Reyne said, his hand on his holster. “You’re showing both of us the data. Now.”

Demes’ eyes widened, and he shot another glance to Critch.

“You heard the man,” Critch grumbled. “Show us.”

The young pirate led them to his bunk. Technology components were scattered all about the floor. He sat down at his cluttered desk. “There’s a lot of data here, and I’m not sure how useful it is. I’ve decrypted it all, but much of it is in code-speak. Messages to and from some group Stationmaster Patel was involved with. They called themselves the Founders. They all went by strange names. She went by the name Seamstress.”

Reyne furrowed his brow in confusion. He turned to Critch to see the pirate just as confused. “That’s what Vym was hiding?”

“It can’t be tied with the original group. They disappeared centuries ago,” Critch said.

Reyne leaned forward. “Demes, are you sure that’s what they called themselves?”

“Yeah, sure. The most recent message was from the day of the Ice Port attack.”

“I always had my suspicions,” Reyne said. “It would explain a lot of things.”

Critch took a deep breath. “Well, Reyne. It appears we’ve both been played.” He then turned to Demes, who was watching the captains with an inquisitive expression. “The Founders was an organization even older than the Collective. They were wealthy Alluvians and Myrads who fancied themselves puppeteers, pulling strings to shape the Collective how they saw fit. After the War, when the CUF was formed, they were hunted down and killed. Evidently, they weren’t all killed.”

Reyne mused, “If they still exist, would they be our allies or our enemies?”

Critch motioned to Demes. “What’s the data say?”

“Well, you’d better pull up chairs,” Demes said. “It’ll take a while.

*

Four hours later, Reyne and Critch stood in the pirate’s quarters, having left Demes with instructions to begin running searches to see if he could track down the identities of other Founders.

Critch opened a bottle of bourbon, poured a glass half full, and took a seat.

Reyne took in the Spartan quarters while Critch drank the expensive alcohol, noticing the sharp contrast between the two extremes.

“Now, I understand where Vym was coming from,” Reyne said. “We have to stop Myr, or else we’re looking at a full-scale war.”

Critch looked up from his glass. “We don’t stand a chance against Myr’s warships. They’ll slaughter anyone foolish enough to try.”

“If we don’t stop Myr, they’ll take control of the fringe stations,” Reyne said. “Whoever controls the fringe controls the Collective. The Uprising has always been about gaining equal rights in Parliament. But it’s bigger than that now.”

“It’s about survival now,” Critch said. “Thanks to Vym’s data, we know Myr is sitting on a fungicide that can kill the blight. If they continue on the path they’ve already started down, they can clear out the fringe stations and bring in stationmasters loyal to Myr.”

Reyne nodded grimly. “Vym seemed to think Myr planned to try out the blight on Ice Port. When that backfired, they went to Plan B on Sol Base and involving the CUF. The only safe place for us now may be Playa and the Space Coast, but both depend on food and supplies from the other colonies. Myr may as well own Sol Base now, and who knows what they have in store for Spate and Terra.”

“Stopping the blight has to be our first priority.” Critch said. “As long as Myr has the blight, they hold all the cards.”

“We need to get our hands on the fungicide,” Reyne said and then he rubbed his temples. “I can’t get it through my head that the Founders exist—and, that they still think they can control the Collective.”

“They’d make a powerful ally,” Critch said. “But, reading Vym’s messages, it’s clear they see us fringe as only pawns. We’d never be able to trust them.”

“Agreed. You saw the messages. Vym was going against her fellow Founders to stir up a new Uprising. But, if Demes can track down their names, we’ll at least have information we can leverage.” Reyne sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t see how we can go against Myr without help from them or the Alluvians. Vym was right. We have to get her tablet to the
Arcadia
.”