Rebellion, page 1
Rebellion
The Lazarus Alliance, Book 3
Blaze Ward
Knotted Road Press
Contents
Chapter 1
Lazarus
Chapter 2
Oluchi
Chapter 3
Aileen
Chapter 4
Addison
Chapter 5
Lazarus
Chapter 6
Eha
Chapter 7
Lazarus
Chapter 8
Rodrigo
Chapter 9
Lazarus
Chapter 10
Eha
Chapter 11
Rodrigo
Chapter 12
Addison
Chapter 13
Lazarus
Chapter 14
Grace
Chapter 15
Lazarus
Chapter 16
Addison
Chapter 17
Rodrigo
Chapter 18
Oluchi
Chapter 19
Lazarus
Chapter 20
H’Brige
Chapter 21
Oluchi
Chapter 22
Lazarus
Chapter 23
Addison
Chapter 24
Eha
Chapter 25
Gore
Chapter 26
Lazarus
Chapter 27
Addison
Chapter 28
Gore
Chapter 29
Oluchi
Chapter 30
Addison
Chapter 31
Lazarus
Chapter 32
Oluchi
Chapter 33
Eha
Chapter 34
Addison
Chapter 35
Lazarus
Chapter 36
Oluchi
Chapter 37
Aileen
Chapter 38
Eha
Chapter 39
Grace
Chapter 40
Lazarus
Chapter 41
Eha
Chapter 42
Addison
Chapter 43
Lazarus
Chapter 44
Eha
Chapter 45
Oluchi
Chapter 46
Lazarus
Chapter 47
Addison
Chapter 48
Oluchi
Chapter 49
Lazarus
Chapter 50
Eha
Chapter 51
Aileen
Chapter 52
Lazarus
Chapter 53
Addison
Chapter 54
Oluchi
Chapter 55
Lazarus
Chapter 56
Lazarus
Chapter 57
Oluchi
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About the Author
Also by Blaze Ward
About Knotted Road Press
One
Lazarus
Lazarus studied the man seated across from him in his office. Well, coiled, actually.
Addison Wolcott was a Churquen, an alien from Innruld Space. Pure snake from the waist down, but more manlike above that. Scales instead of body hair. Spindly arms compared to a Human. Probably as intelligent as Lazarus was, and far cannier.
Today, Addison was dressed as a Commander in the Rio Alliance Navy. Sort of. Thadrakho the Necherle mechanic-turned-occasional-tailor had found a tan uniform jacket similar to the one Lazarus had on, but one that would fit Addison with a few tweaks. The sleeves were gone, as Churquen didn’t have shoulders to speak of.
As Captain, Lazarus had approved modifications to add an X-framed bandoleer harness with pockets and pouches, as well as a sash tied around where Addison’s hipbones would be if he were a biped.
“I still don’t think rank tabs and unit insignia are the wisest course of action, Lazarus,” Addison mused aloud into the silence, as though reading Lazarus’s mind.
He might be. Addison had been a Director on his own vessel, the Innruld equivalent of a Captain, for a long time, of the cargo runner Shiva Zephyr Glaive. The man, the Churquen, understood command.
“On the contrary, my friend,” Lazarus stopped his own wool-gathering to focus now on his First Officer, coiled in a compact loop on the other side of the desk. “The authority invested in a Rio Alliance Captain in wartime allows him to impress civilians into service voluntarily, and to promote them as a brevet, pending approval by the authorities back home. They might not let you keep that rank, but they will have to do all sorts of investigations into things before they can overrule me and take it away. At a minimum, everyone is drawing pay and benefits right now.”
“What about Xiuying Bălan?” Addison asked. “I haven’t pried, but I get the impression that he previously served in the same navy with you?”
“The man was a marine, Addison,” Lazarus said, sobering. “That is a term for a combat specialist, rather than a sailor. Based on a few things he has told me, he held a fairly senior enlisted rank with an elite Services team, possibly similar to the ones I did when I was much younger, although I don’t remember him.”
“Would you?”
“The Services were elite, but they were still huge,” Lazarus replied. “I knew the men on my two teams, but there were hundreds of such groups, scattered across Rio Alliance Space. But I’m not worried about him. He’s taken well to returning to the tan uniform and is temporarily a Senior Chief, which works. Almost everyone else outranks him as an officer of some sort, except Thadrakho, but neither of them wanted to be officers anyway.”
“So you continue to insist on the charade?” Addison harrumphed politely.
“It’s that, or we turn fully pirate, Addison,” Lazarus said. “I don’t know who to trust in the senior ranks of the Navy or the government. Someone has to be a spy. Westphalia knew where to find me, at the one time they could defeat this ship. And knew to bring enough force to do it. That was not accidental.”
“And if the Alliance just orders you to surrender the ship and turn over your crew of alien misfits?” Addison’s voice grew just as serious.
“They are welcome to try,” Lazarus said in a voice that didn’t brook any more discussion.
He would not budge on that. Not until he had the truth.
And if he couldn’t get satisfaction, he would flee back to Innruld Space where he had found his new friends and start a rebellion over there without any help.
This ship could go for another year or so before it started needing specialized replacement parts and techniques to maintain the experimental systems. Longer if he took the time to start building things from his various onboard stocks, which he intended.
Addison noted the chapter break and sat back on his coil for a moment, poised in thought.
“You have called Ajax a Light Starcruiser,” Addison shifted directions. “That of course suggests such things as Heavy Starcruisers. Are we at risk from your folks when we get to Brasilia?”
Lazarus smiled. Chuckled even.
“A Heavy Starcruiser has nine Star Lances instead of our three,” he replied. “And significant numbers of Star Spears as defensive weapons against small ships. If they get close enough to us, then yes, a Heavy is a viable threat. You can, however, outrun one easily, and Kirov’s Lance has almost triple the range of a Star Lance, if you have to shoot someone with it. Stay back and snipe at him from a distance if it comes to that.”
“And a Westphalian GunWall?” Addison asked.
“Sixteen Phalanx-Class Destroyers up front, with those silly shields they use,” Lazarus said. “One Star Spear centered and eight Powerbolt Cannons around the rim of the shield. Protecting four Archer-Class Destroyers with the same Gunshield but a Star Lance and four Powerbolt Cannons. Plus one CommandWall, which is a modified Archer without the Star Lance and all of that space is dedicated to flag operations instead. Kill them in reverse order.”
“Can Ajax fly backwards to do it?” Addison asked.
“Huh?”
“Retrograde motion,” the Churquen leaned forward. “Humans and Churquen can both do it. This ship’s engines are riding on gravity lines of force, rather than ejecting physical matter to produce thrust. If a GunWall shows up, can we entice them into chasing us with Kirov’s Lance pointed at them the whole time?”
“Yes,” Lazarus said in a smaller voice a moment later. “I’ve always thought of Ajax as an offensive tool, and designed it to swoop in and smash something with Kirov. Most likely that would have come up during training, but we never got that far. Let them chase you while backing away…”
“Not every battle requires me to wade in throwing punches, Lazarus.” Addison smiled with the scales around his jaw and eyes. “Sometimes you have to outthink the eggless bastards.”
“Which is exactly why you have and should continue to maintain the rank and position of First Officer, Addison,” Lazarus smiled back. “One of these days we’re going to go find a Westphalian GunWall and return the favor for what they did to me and this ship.”
“And if Brasilia doesn’t welcome us?” Addison asked.
“Maybe them, too,” Lazarus said.
Two
Oluchi
At least there had been enough spare fabric in other colors lying around that Oluchi wasn’t required to dress in the tan uniforms everyone else had taken to wearing. Not t
And it wasn’t that he had anyone here he needed to use them on, but one should never get out of practice, especially not today. Forty Years Standard old wasn’t that far off. The prettiness of his youth had already given way to ruggedly handsome, thank the various gods, but eventually he was going to look like a responsible adult.
Best to be able to fool everyone when that time came around.
So he was wearing dark slacks today. Not black, but still far beyond just blue. The fabric was not cotton, not hemp, but close enough for him. Completely alien but the Necherle mechanic/tailor had a sewing machine. Recognizable, even, but physics was physics.
His original white shirt had been dismantled for patterns, so he was probably never getting it back, but Thadrakho had made him a similar one in an egg cream just a little too light to be a faded mustard.
And the Navy insisted on jackets for their officers, so the ship was always kept cool enough that he could wear his opera cape most of the time. One must maintain image.
Sometimes, Oluchi even believed it. Convinced himself that he wasn’t just a jumped-up gigolo running for his life from creditors and angry husbands.
Standing outside of the Captain’s office door, pausing for a long breath, he wasn’t so sure.
Yes, he had helped the man named Lazarus and two others invade the personal yacht of one of Yisan’s finest, old-money plutocratic bastards. And killed the man and his crew in the process of rescuing Eha and Aileen before Strav Ardna managed to murder the two women.
Eduardo Martìnez, the true money on Yisan, had made sure that Oluchi Pryce was at the center of that operation, so he supposed that he had graduated from gigolo to fixer, at least in a few people’s eyes. And a fixer was just a pimp with a wider and occasionally more reputable clientele, right?
But Captain Lazarus of Bethany had asked him to a meeting.
Oluchi wasn’t wearing tan. Didn’t even make a pretense of being under military authority. He didn’t know of any outstanding warrants on Brasilia or the inner core of stars that made up the Rio Alliance, but he wasn’t here to represent the ship.
Just the merchants of Yisan. Even a few basis points on contracts into Innruld Space would be more money than Oluchi ever needed. The power that his position would bring would do much for an aging Lothario like him, at that point where his smiling face didn’t automatically guarantee a woman’s attention.
That only opened the doors anyway. You still had to charm her. And Oluchi was always amazed how few men just listened to a woman when she wanted to vent. You didn’t have to do anything. Just smile, nod, ask occasional questions to show that you were hearing and understanding her. Wine and chocolate were good, too.
Very few successful seductions began or ended in bed, after all.
Christo, get hold of yourself, man. You’re acting like the Headmaster finally caught on to your games.
Oluchi shivered once, settled himself, and knocked.
The door opened immediately. As though Lazarus had a camera outside and had been watching. Hopefully the muttering had been too quiet to pick up.
“Come,” Lazarus called.
Oluchi entered. Found the Captain behind his desk. Eha Dunham, the Churquen Ambassador to the Humans, was coiled on the open space to the left, so Oluchi took the only remaining chair.
When most of your crew had the wrong physiology, chairs must be an interesting choreography. He had heard stories of Shiva Zephyr Glaive, but not seen any pictures of the interior. The updated bridge of Ajax, however, told him all he really needed to know.
Oluchi turned to Eha and studied her for clues.
The woman had spent a week recovering from her trauma. Kidnapped. Threatened but not beaten. Aileen had been the one to suffer all the physical abuse, and it had taken four Humans, two with shock rods, to hold the angry Yithadreph woman down.
But Churquen didn’t swim. And she’d had to escape from a yacht in the middle of a hurricane at sea, just before Lazarus and friends blew it up. Most of the bruises remaining on his legs had faded from where she had wrapped herself around him in a panic.
She smiled. It was good.
Lazarus was not smiling, but he rarely did. Oluchi understood that the man had the weight of the cosmos on his shoulders, Atlas-like.
“Nice cloak,” Lazarus said as a beginning.
Oluchi smiled. Watched the other man relax a shade.
No, I won’t join your navy and come under your orders, sir. Let’s not even bother pretending.
But that was unsaid. He belonged, as much as the three newcomers did. The Humans. The others were a family, not just a crew.
Oluchi could aspire to join them, one of these days.
“How can I serve, Captain?” he asked in a vague, empty voice best suited to a poker table, rather than a boudoir.
“There is only one of me,” Lazarus replied. “I cannot be in two places at once.”
Oluchi nodded. He’d done the same math. He’d been waiting for the shoe to drop.
“While I respect all the risks you and the others took for my friend on Yisan, I have concerns,” Lazarus said.
Oluchi nodded again. That math wasn’t that hard, either.
Random stranger walks up and introduces himself. Invites everyone to a party. The women get kidnapped by a stranger. Oluchi has friends. Everyone goes out and kills the man purportedly responsible. The ship and crew flee before any truth might get out.
Neat with a bow, depending on how you wanted to interpret it.
Oluchi Pryce was a master of interpretation.
“Are you safer taking us all to Brasilia, or leaving us here?” Oluchi asked, turning to include Eha in the conversation.
“That was exactly the point of discussion,” Eha replied with a nod.
“Bălan is pretty much exactly what he looks like,” Lazarus continued. “I know the type, and all the subtle cues someone could not pick up any way other than serving. Grace Savidge is a killer. Period. Probably has all manner of other skills and is certainly beautiful and charming, but at her core she is one of the most lethal beings I’ve ever encountered in a lifetime of professional mayhem. Any species.”
Oluchi nodded. That pretty much summed both of them up. Crude and a bit simplistic, but good enough to place a figure on the game board.
“And me?” he asked.
“You’re the wild card, Pryce,” Lazarus said. “Appropriate, as you appear to be a professional gambler, among other things.”
Oluchi didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to blush. He was wrong.
But hey, hopefully you learn something new about yourself every day, right?
“I want to get rich,” Oluchi replied. “But more importantly, I want the power that comes with riches. The freedom. Those folks back on Yisan all had more money than they could possibly spend, so their only risk was boredom and ennui. That was why they needed folks like me.”
“And now?” Lazarus asked.
“Today, I need to be a fixer,” Oluchi said. “For you, for Eha, and for Eduardo. The man who gets things done because he has a cousin in the industry. That middleman who greases the wheels of commerce for a small percentage. Yisan is outside of Rio Alliance laws, so those folks will be expecting me to route things through them on the way to Innruld Space so they can get more fabulously rich. Eha and her folks will need civilian hulls as well as military surplus hardware to do their thing to the overlords of the galaxy. The Rio government might not want all that to be on the main screen of the new channel, so they’ll need someone expert in just handling things quietly.”