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Chapter One

The smell of burning flesh filtered through his facemask, causing him to retch involuntarily. It never got any better. No matter how they dressed this shit up, it was still death by deed poll. You could change your name, change your state, even your planet, but somehow the Church Guard always found you. Sins were sins, irrespective of their level, background story or mitigating circumstances. Holy fire burned hot, and unforgiving.

Trooper Charles had really had a bad day. It started with his wife, continued with his wife, and no doubt would end with his wife, He hefted the flamethrower in his hands and grinned, Maybe just a little absolution would be the ticket. Who would know, really?

“Charles! You useless piece of dog turd! Stop daydreaming and keep burning!”

Trooper Charles grinned and gripped the lever tighter. It was all so much easier if he just imagined it was her,,,the smell still made him gag though…

xxx

Lady Borisa Fernan looked through her bifocals at the crowd below, She looked through the glasses which allowed her to peer disdainfully at the unwashed masses. She checked her chrono and wondered where her godforsaken husband was. She had done all she could. Her father had helped him enter the Guard. Her Uncle had pushed him into a front-line unit, and her lover had helped put him in harms way. The only person not with the game plan was her husband. The useless scum managed to survive every crappy assignment passed his way, but  today that would change. She had paid extra and one little accident would free her personally and socially from her nightmare.

Even now, the failure of a pressure valve was leaking just the right amount of flammables to underline the dangerous nature of her husband’s work. It was so unfortunate that cutback’s in service contracts resulted in shoddy workmanship and lax quality. Such a shame.

xxx

Charles felt the gas flow change, heard the burbling of the liquids change to a grumble and he know he was in trouble. He tried to move away from his position, cancelling the flow and running through his safety drill, but the pressure from his Sargeant was intense and immediate,

“Now boy. Move¡ No time for half measures, Stop now and I’ll have you on a charge¡”

The click of a cocked weapon underlined the need for quick action, and Charles heard it twice. He glanced sideways and saw Frame, a new addition to the troop check his forward movement and flick is weapon towards him.

Charles grinned as he bit down on his bottom lip, using his struggle with the gas flow to hide his humour. It would be now or very soon. Time to move.

He slapped the central strap, causing the four prong safety lock to snap open. Throwing his arms outwards whilst crouching down, relieved him of the weight of the weapon and its fuel canisters. He heard the crack of an automatic, followed by the roar of a rifle and rolled out of his harness, pulling free his pistol. His weapon barked twice, pulverizing flesh and bone and he stood, breathing heavily. The bitch had done for him now. Time to go and with a little cover.

As he moved away, he turned and fired twice at the fuel canisters, igniting them and obliterating the evidence of his survival. It wouldn’t last long, but it just might get him off-planet, Then he stopped and grimaced, it wouldn’t be enough. He opened one of the pockets on his tiny camo-belt, looking enviously of that of the smoking Sargeant. All in good time. The laser knife would cut swiftly and cauterize. It was unpleasant but necessary. One quick swipe separated the little finger of his off-hand, and he cut the offending appendage another two or three times for good measure.

With a smile he distributed the tell-tale pieces of his DNA in various parts of the burning and disembodied remains of his attackers. Charles stripped the much better harness of his superior, appropriating his pistol and tossing his own amongst the ruins oh his comrades.

With a final salute he was on his way, richer for the experience and unburdened. He could only imagine how Borisa would react; hopefully she would choke on her happiness.

xxx

*So heºs dead?*, asked Borisa, sipping slowly on her cocktail, I would hope he suffered?

*Hard to tell*, replied Adnan Charles, little concerned about his brother, **the tiny pieces that were left couldn*t speak…*

She laughed, her malice obvious and giving Adnan just a little concern. Too late now though, he was committed.

‘So tomorrow(‘, she said slowly, savouring the moment, ‘you can go and claim the inheritance?’

‘I assume so,’ he muttered, ‘but there is still the question of the Cororners proof.’

‘DNA will be enough, surely?’

‘Normally, but in such a circumstance, there will be a time required to clear up any doubt.’

‘How long?’

‘A few weeks…’
‘
A few weeks! We cannot wait, the auction on New Sevilla finishes in fifteen days…I , that is, we need the money now!’

‘I will see what we can do, but there is only so much I can push, without raising suspicion,’

‘See to it, but I expect you will do what is required,,,, ‘she glared at him, then softened her glance, toying with her lower lip, ‘you do want me to be happy, don*t you?’

‘Of course my dear’, he murmured soothingly, ‘always…’

She smiled at him lovingly, yet another necessity with this stupid family. If only his brother had been more manageable, he at least she could stomach physically, This younger and overweight example of the Charles family was not to her taste. Oh well, beggars can*t be choosers. She crooked her finger and invited him in once again to her well spun web. It would not be long before she could get rid of this brother too. Then she could find a real man…

Xxx

The troop transport carried the wounded and dead off the planet. Charles had bathed himself in others blood and secreted himself amongst the nearly dead. A well-placed blood bag kept the overworked medical staff happy about his pending demise, as did the bundle of intestines struggling to explode from his tunic. His ID tags were hidden inside his shirt, those of the unfortunate colon hanging openly from his neck.

A shuddering announced the lifting of the transport from the planet and Charles breathed a sigh of relief. He had succeeded in leaving the surface, now all he needed to do was work out how to get far away from Bernisa. Not so easy but definitely doable. There were plenty of dead and dying alibis nearby. He just needed a cunning plan.

An aide passed by, removing the id tags of dead soldiers and noting them of his info pad. There must be some way of stealing such a pad, it would give him unlimited aliases, all dead, all in the service of the Church, No-one would be able to trace if he could just interrupt the information flow. Delaying the death notices would give him a potential tool kit of identities. Let her find him then…

Xxx

Borisa wondered how it might have been, if only her husband had been on board with her plans. He had refused to give her access to his family inheritance, and had limited her to a monthly stipend. Her ambition could not be checked by lesser mortals, she had a destiny. Now, with his death, she was much closer to realizing her plans and making those who had belittled her family pay. The auction was everything. She needed the property on new sevilla for the next stage of her plan, and the only direct way was with her ex-husbands money. There was another way, but she was loath to do so. However, if Adnan didn’t come through she would take the risk. After all, it was only her body, and it was not like she hadn’t sold it before…

Xxx

The info pad had supplied him with the aliases and the funds liberated from his private account the wherewithal to make the fold space jumps. She would never find a record of the money movements. All of the withdrawals had been made in small amounts over time, normal cash movements, which he had then placed back in a separate account. It had taken time, a means of his own to ensure a little control over his own life, but it had been worth it.

His mother, god rest her soul, had warned him about Borisa and insisted on him looking after himself. She had insisted in him taking this step, one that he had laughed at, but oh ,how right she had been. Without her forethought, he would now be struggling for his life and with nowhere to go. There would be no proof of his wife’s manipulations but that would not have made him any less dead. Each jump took him further away from her tender embrace and further down the path of history. The Protectorate was a strange place, the core worlds high in technology and warfare, the worlds on the fringe less attractive as their populations fell back into barbarism. The Church had been selective and no doubt would one day reach out its loving arms to bring the fringe worlds back into the fold, but not just now.

The last jump had been risky, the freighter an early model which shook after its insertion back into normal space, as a drunk did as he tried to convince himself that he would not need another drink. Charles had paid the Captain in advance and the lifepod in which he now sat was his final payment. His that was, not that of the freighter. Just before he left the safety of the ship, he had shared a bottle of Plum Brandy with the olf freighter Captain and then they had sung their way to bed. Charles had done so via the fold space jump bay, borrowing one of the ten capacitators which helped to mould the chaotic forces of fold space into a controllable weave. The freighter would not be going any where in a hurry and if he was correct perhaps not at all. There were many tales of ships crews who became shipwrecked out in the fringes. They made planetfall and became lords of all for a few years, until their advanced weapons failed and their slaves patience waned almost as fast.

This system had two planets which suited human life and a smaller habitable moon. Charles had mentioned the second planet to the freighter Captain, which had never been his target; he was aiming for the moon itself, that which orbited the third planet. If his reading was correct it was a toss up, in reality which was the moon and which the planet. Someone had terra-formed the moon, giving it character and life; a small sea, rivers and lakes, mountain ranges, grassland and even a small desert. Some worlds he had seen had less. There was a story here and he meant to find it. This was something he could dedicate his life to, avoiding the stink and dismay of war, and the clamour for his money. He laughed quietly to himself as he punched the jet sequence which would land him on the moon, there was still one more shock for Borisa and his little brother, it would have been fun to have been there when they found out. No doubt even fold space wasn’t far enough to deaden her screams…he grinned and grasped the controls, he didn’t want the natives to see him land. He needed time to build a story and a life in which he would fit. He laughed again and flipped the pod sideways, the bigger lake seemed like a good place to land and lose his life-pod, He would lose himself shortly afterwards…

Quote from: Takiro on January 08, 2018, 04:06:35 PM

Welcome back!

Good to be back

Cheers

Rayo

Another great start, Rayo! I'm looking forward to reading the rest!

Chapter Two

Jeremiah watched carefully as the soldiers approached his farmhouse. The pattern was familiar and he knew the outcome; they would kill his slaves, rape his women and if they found him too, torture and emasculate him. The local Lord had made a point of bleeding local farmers on a regular basis, and Jeremiah had been just a little too successful. He wasn’t too worried though, this was the third time that they had done this and he could always buy more slaves. It was a shame though, the new crop of slaves had begun to perform well and some of the young boys and girls were coming along nicely. He had expected to make a good profit on them in the Spring. Now they would be culled and used by the Lord and his men. A shame, but that was life.

The typical fear had entered into the slaves and they began to run, A young woman fell and one of the men stopped and stood over her protectively. Good breeding stock, thought Jeremiah and then huddled down further into his hiding place. It would soon be over and he could restock. He glanced to his left and smiled at the small group of slaves he had with him; young and well-bred females with a small group of younger males. They would do for a start, and he had trussed and gagged them well. The rest would convince the Lord’s soldiers that they had found everything. Jeremiah giggled, inordinately pleased with himself.

There was a grunt and the meaty thwack of blade against flesh and he sighed. It had begun. Soon he could get back to a normal life. He closed his eyes and offered up a prayer to the God of Merchants. One more trial he had to overcome. There was no profit without suffering…that was written on the temple shrine…and it was so true.

Xxx

Charles watched through his viewfinder as the soldiers worked their way down the valley. He couldn’t understand what they were doing. A group of them would herd the frightened people together, treating them with neither ire nor kindness. A disturbance further up the valley saw the arrival of a mounted group, none of whom were soldiers. They were dressed more as merchants or local citizens, rather than in the segmented armour and kilts worn by the soldiers. Curious, he moved closer and saw one man dismount and stride towards a cluster of the captured people. He grabbed a young woman by her hair, twisting her tresses in his fist and forcing her face upwards. He checked her teeth and prodded her arms and legs. A dagger flashed and he ripped free her blouse, showing a young and healthy body. He seemed to grimace and then nod reluctantly. A soldier stepped forward and his sword swept across the woman’s throat, his fellows following quickly in despatching the rest of the captives.

As Charles watched, the corpses were stripped and then others of the mounted men dismounted, pulling on aprons and brandishing knives. Charles gasped as he watched. They were butchers, preparing meat from a slaughter. What the hell had he let himself in for…

Just then a young man in a second huddled group reacted, dragging his arm free and punching one of his guards squarely in the face. He recovered a dropped sword and struck heavily, without skill but with great intent. Another of his fellows also picked up a fallen sword and they bludgeoned their way free, dragging two women in tow. Surprise had freed them but it would not last. Charles saw the soldiers form up and begin to follow.

“No, no ,no …”, he muttered as the group swerved towards him, followed by the pursuing soldiers. Maybe he would be lucky and they would be caught before they got to him…

Anger suffused his being. Who or what had he become? These were human beings, being treated as a food animal by their own kind. He could not in all conscience ignore that. He changed his tone, urging the small group to more effort and he slowly withdrew his pistol from his belt. He adjusted the needle setting and waited. He would have to be quick and accurate.

He took his time, aiming at the lead soldier and breathing shallowly. He would have one chance and he would have to be quick. Charles peered through the sights and held his breath ready.

Something hammered into his back, causing his body to arch upwards. His finger tightened onto the trigger and a spray of needles hissed skywards. Grunting in pain, his training kicked in and he rolled away, his pistol still held tightly in his hand.  A hob-nailed sandal scraped down the side of his face, but Charles was in the zone now. Pain was forgotten as he squeezed the trigger in two sharp bursts and rolled again, coming to his knees and aiming at the other two soldiers, even now drawing swords and jabbing towards him. Again, his pistol hissed, slashing needles across exposed skin and punching through the armour. Blood sprayed outwards and Charles spun to the front, now targeting the chasing group. He could not fault their bravery. They had seen their comrades fall but continued on. For a moment Charles thought of mercy, but the vision of the girl’s torn throat hardened his heart. He squeezed again and again, scything down the remaining soldiers.

The escaping people rushed past him without stopping. He was at first angry but then thought prudence was the better form of valour as a hornet’s nest of soldiers exploded away from their charges. He heard screamed shouts and chanced a glance back to see the soldiers being reined in by the dismounted man. Instead of slowing, Charles increased his speed; there was no knowing how much of an advantage he had before they resumed the chase, and he intended to make the most of it,

Xxx

“Call your men back, corporal,” snapped Lucius, “we will recover them soon enough.”

“Sir”, acknowledged the troop leader. Snarling orders at his men.

“The real question,” mused the obvious leader of the expedition, “is who exactly was that man, and what are his intentions. Neither by act or dress was he local, He is our first priority.

There are more than enough cattle here to suit our Lord’s needs and we will secure them first. Then we will track down this newcomer. He will also be of interest to our Lord,”

The Corporal saluted, and stalked away, taking his frustration out on their captives. He squinted towards his dead men and then at the Prefect, for Lucius was no less a man than their Lord’s second in command.

The Prefect nodded and turned away. Their loss of four bodies would have to be made up for by the fallen soldiers. The Corporal didn’t like it, but he knew he would like his Lord’s wrath even less.

Chapter Three

Charles ignored the complaints from behind him; He had helped provide rough first aid and thought that would have been enough. Jose seemed to be stoic enough about his injuries, but the girl’s brother was a pain in the arse. He had moaned every step off the way and Charles was tempted to break the idiot’s arm properly, just in order to feel better. The fact that she half-carried her brother restrained him, but he couldn’t help wonder why she put up with his overbearing weight, and not just in the physical sense.

Movement ahead caused him to pause, and Charles held up his arm to caution his fellow travellers. The brother began to complain and Charles span, ready to forcibly quieten the fool, but the anger in his eyes was enough. She smiled at him and his fury was diverted, Shaking his head, he moved on, drawing the blade he had taken from the lead soldier free from its scabbard and inching towards the source of the noise.

He parted the brush ahead of him, a small stand of trees and bushes providing cover from the men below, and saw a repeat of his earlier experience. This time there were three of the armour-clad soldiers, who sat in front of a small fire in an open glade below him. To one side was a small group of young men and women, hands tied and a rope halter running from their necks to the next prisoner in line. Charles heard the men talking, or rather discussing the merits of waiting for their leaders to return, or whether to start the butchery now. The small fire could easily be added to and they were going to prepare the meat anyway.

The callous description and handling of human life made Charles balk on his original idea of skirting around the men. He had already pissed off the locals with his earlier rescue and he doubted their anger would be increased if he killed a few more of their men.  Really, the issue was around what the hell he was going to do with all of these people. Once they were back on the island with him, no doubt he could put them to use, even show them how to look after themselves. No, the problem was what to do with them after. These were no rescued wild animal which could be nursed back to health, and then released into the wilds. These were human fodder, feed animals for a larger population he had yet to meet. In all conscience, he could not just let them die.

Grumbling to himself, Charles pulled back out of the way and re-joined the small group waiting for him. Jose simply looked on expectantly, as did Maria and the other girl, Jema, her brother though looked ready to kill and started forward, drawing in breath for an angry comment. Charles did not let him speak, jabbing two straight fingers into his Adam’s apple, and drawing a croak of surprise and then a gasp for breath. Again Maria’s brother hit the floor squirming. Charles shook his head and motioned to Jose to join him.

“We need to release one or two more of your companions, and we need to do it now.”

Jose looked on, accepting Charles words without comment.
“You will follow me to the tree line and wait for my signal. Once you hear it, run straight down and use your sword to help convince those below that you know what you are doing with it.”

Jose grinned and bobbed his head.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Maria quietly.

Charles bent down and removed the dagger from her brother’s belt, handing it to her.

“If he causes problems, slit his throat…”

She looked at him for a moment, gauging his mood, then nodded once curtly. Her brother croaked upwards in astonishment and she waved the dagger at him, silencing his protests. She smiled slightly and went to sit on a nearby rock. Charles shook his head and motioned Jose to follow him. Women, never happier than when they had a blade in their hands…

It was always this way, thought Charles as he closed on his targets. He wanted a quiet life, yet Fate conspired to give him an interesting one. His time with Borisa had supposed to have given him all that he needed, yet it had taken all he had. And now, he was here saving innocents from the savages, and making such a large amount of noise, when all he had wanted was peace and quiet.

Two more steps, took him to the edge of his cover and he crouched, waiting for the second guard to turn away. He would have to be quick, Jose was no doubt enthusiastic but in terms of effectiveness, he left a lot to be desired. Once they were through this, he needed to take some time and teach these children how to fight. Enthusiasm they had in abundance, it was skill and experience they lacked.

The first guard walked back towards him and took out his blade, leering at the hobbled slaves before him. Charles could read his mind and moved in tandem with the guards motion, as he closed on the nearest woman, Her stricken face caused him to laugh sadistically, but her fear had been at the open blade in Charles’ hand, not so much at the casual brutality of the guard.

A hand across the guard’s forehead held him fast, as Charles’ blade stabbed vigorously in back, kidneys and chest, He wanted noise and the second guard came running. Charles screamed his challenge and hoped Jose realised that his signal had come. His short blade would be no match for the soldier’s Gladius.

            Xxx

Maria heard the shout and saw Jose’s rush downhill. She smiled as she watched the one time slave’s dash to battle. He was eager and the stranger’s confidence was infectious. She was still smiling as her brother’s fist slammed into the side of her head.

“Bitch!” he spat, as he kicked her out of the way, “I always said you were a waste of space.”

He kicked her again, this time to the stomach, causing her to curl up into a ball for her own protection,

“You never paid any attention to what I told you,” he muttered, moving past her and staring after the disappearing Jose.

“And to think that you had the nerve to pander to that idiot’s comments about keeping watch on me. Threatening me with your stupid blade.” He spat again, this time onto her upturned face.

“It won’t be the first time I have taught you a lesson,” he growled, grabbing the front of her dress and lifting her bodily upwards. Jema screamed and turned away. Things were returning to normal he thought as he began to rip cloth. It was his last conscious thought as Maria let all of her anger and frustration out in one explosion.

Her blade stabbed up, cutting into his thigh and as he doubled in pain into his stomach. She ripped up and out, hot and wet body parts tumbling onto her arm as she pulled backwards.

“Bitch indeed,” she sang as she stabbed and cut. The last strike was a sharp movement across his throat, opening his gullet to the air and spraying her face with blood.

“Not my first lesson,” she agreed with her dying brother, as he looked at her with astonishment, “but, dear brother,” she breathed, “it will definitely be my last from you…”

He mewled in terror and pain as she struck again, not allowing him a final peace. Maria smiled, now she had finally had the final word.