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Alabaster Noon




  Alabaster Noon

  Book Twelve of The Omega War

  By

  Chris Kennedy & Mark Wandrey

  PUBLISHED BY: Seventh Seal Press

  Copyright © 2019 Chris Kennedy & Mark Wandrey

  All Rights Reserved

  * * * * *

  Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story “Gateway to Union”

  and discover other titles by Mark Wandrey at:

  http://worldmaker.us/

  * * * * *

  Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story “Shattered Crucible”

  and discover other titles by Chris Kennedy at:

  http://chriskennedypublishing.com/

  * * * * *

  Do you have what it takes to be a Merc?

  Take your VOWs and join the Merc Guild on Facebook!

  Meet us at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/536506813392912/

  * * * * *

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  * * * * *

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the ever-growing number of fans of the 4HU, from the ones who’ve followed us from Day One to those who’ve just discovered it. This book pulls together what we’ve been working toward for the last three years. Don’t worry though, we’re just getting started.

  This book is also in memory of Uncle Timmy Bolgeo, a finer friend to the world of fandom, there never was.

  * * * * *

  Cover Design by Brenda Mihalko

  Original Art by Ricky Ryan

  * * * * *

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Dragon Award

  About Chris Kennedy

  About Mark Wandrey

  Titles by Chris Kennedy

  Titles by Mark Wandrey

  Connect with Chris Kennedy Online

  Connect with Mark Wandrey Online

  Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy

  Excerpt from Book One of the Earth Song Cycle

  Excerpt from Book One of The Psyche of War

  Excerpt from Book One of the Revelations Cycle

  * * * * *

  Prologue

  São Paulo, Brazil, Earth

  The sounds of misery were nonstop as the Besquith specialist team reached their objective: the roof of a five-story building which once housed several hundred Humans. Once in position, they verified none of the occupants remained, alive or otherwise, and began setting up monitoring equipment.

  “Filthy Humans,” one of the sensor operators said, tossing a severed arm over the side of the building. “It’s spoiled. Team Leader Kreth, why didn’t they just nuke the entire area—that would have destroyed the Raknar.”

  “General Peepo wanted the machines intact and their operators alive,” his squad leader reminded him for the dozenth time. Grawts wasn’t the quickest on the uptake, but he did have a mastery of the finicky elSha-manufactured gear. Several others on the team growled their support of Grawts. “Just shut up and finish deploying the sensors. We have nine more to place before dark.”

  The five-Besquith team went about their tasks, but Grawts wasn’t satisfied. “Okay, I understand preserving the war machines and operators. Peepo has them prisoner now. Why are we looking for the little creatures?”

  “Do I look like a general?” Kreth snarled and snapped at the back of Grawts’ neck. The hapless sensor tech rolled over and whined, so Kreth didn’t rip his rotten throat out. Satisfied, Kreth turned back to look out over the remains of São Paulo.

  The Human city, formerly one of the biggest, if what he’d been told proved true, was largely in ruins. Seven Raknar assaulting the city, along with hundreds of Humans in their entropy-cursed powered armor tended to have that effect. Despite having massive defenses in place to hold the seat of occupation, the Raknar plowed into, and ultimately through, them. The damage was horrendous. Kreth approved.

  He shielded his eyes from the setting sun to the west and could see the six surviving Raknar. Dozens of flyers flew around them as heavy equipment prepared to move them. Peepo’s prizes; he wondered what she intended for them.

  The faked cease fire had worked perfectly, allowing forces to move in close to the Human mercs all over the planet before springing the trap. One Raknar was vaporized by orbital fire. Kreth’s unit had been just over a kilometer away, monitoring the mechas’ progress, when it happened. They’d been flash-blinded by the orbital particle beam.

  The last six went berserk, destroying indiscriminately and totally. They even destroyed the orbiting station from the ground! Kreth looked at the building, just one block away—half its height had been severed cleanly by a Raknar particle beam. Then, when heavy Zuul tanks prepared to attack, the Raknar had unleashed what appeared to be nuclear cannon, but much more compact and discrete in its damage.

  “Antimatter weapons,” an elSha tech with the appropriate knowledge said after the fight. Even Kreth sucked in his breath at the idea. Such unbelievable firepower, and now it was theirs! He desperately wanted to finish this mission so they could move on to the next stage.

  “Come on, come on,” he growled, “I want to go to the Human’s secret base. Oh, to see their end will be a glorious battle.” The others grunted in agreement as they worked affixing the sensors. It was no secret the fleet was preparing to go on the final assault. Sure, lots of Humans were still fighting in places, but they wouldn’t be fighting for long. What chance did they have? “Aren’t you done yet?” he snapped.

  “Yes, you’re done,” a tiny voice said in such perfect Besquith he thought it was a juvenile. Kreth turned, and his jaw fell open in surprise. A tiny furred creature just like he’d been told to look for was framed in the doorway pointing at him.

  “Hey—” he said, then something slammed into his throat, and he fell backward, unable to control his body.

  “Ambush!” one of his men cried.

  Good, Kreth thought, struggling to breath. My men will deal with them. Lying on his back on the rubble strewn roof, he heard his men moving, grabbing weapons, and yelling, and then falling bodies. It was all over in two, maybe three, seconds. He exerted all his will and managed to turn his head. Five of the creatures were standing in the center of where h
is men had been working. None of the Besquith were alive, save himself. He tried to say something, but it came out as a gurgle.

  One of the creatures dropped into a partial crouch, its head spinning to face him. One of its eyes was covered in a patch, and it had a cybernetic arm on the same side. The creature grunted and marched over to Kreth.

  * * *

  “Be more thorough, Peanut,” Dante snapped as he stabbed the Besquith through the eye, driving hard with his cybernetic arm to be sure the blade penetrated into its brain.

  “Sorry, sir,” Peanut said.

  “Did any of them get a transmission off?” Ryft asked, cleaning her knife.

  “No.” They all glanced up at their leader. Splunk clung to the half-melted antenna above the roof where she’d been watching the clumsy Besquith set up their instruments. She looked at her frequency scanner one more time to be sure. Nothing within a hundred meters. “They weren’t even staying in contact with their command staff.”

  “Stupid animals,” Shadow said, putting away his long blade. “Even the Kahraman would not have wasted their time with this lot.”

  “They might be pathetic at tactics, but they are strong and numerous,” Ryft pointed out.

  “Peanut, take their comms gear,” Splunk ordered. “Break into their network, and let’s get some intel.”

  Peanut waved, and they piled the Besquith equipment at his feet. Like every Dusman who’d come on the mission, they were all gifted in technology. However, among them, Peanut and Splunk were the most gifted. Since Splunk was in command, she’d delegated the job. The other four moved to the edges of the roof to assume overwatch as soon as the bodies were stripped.

  Dante sent to her.

  Splunk sent back. For 170 hours they would have no contact with their agents within the retreating fleet. She tried to appear confident, despite her inner feelings of failure. Jim was there, only a few kilometers away. She could point to him, if she’d wanted to. They all knew where their operators were, a side effect of the joining. It wasn’t like the texts said it would be. She’d tried to explain it to Sly, but he hadn’t believed her. Well, now he did.

  “Command. Echo-5, report,” said a voice from one of the Besquith radios.

  Splunk pointed, and Peanut snapped it up. He had a device already set, and he clipped it to the radio. A second later, another Besquith spoke. “Echo-5 to Command, system is almost up.”

  “What is taking so long, Kreth?”

  Peanut cocked his head and tapped a tiny screen with his claws, then the machine said, “My team are idiots.”

  Laughter replied. “That they are. Hurry up, Command out.”

  From across the ruined rooftop, Splunk could see Dante nodding without looking over. He approved of efficiency almost as much as he approved of slaughter.

  Peanut set the voice duplication device aside. It was the reason Splunk was hanging from the antenna while the Besquith worked; she’d been recording their voices for Peanut. “Here we go,” Peanut said, and Splunk jumped down next to him. She moved close, closer than she had to, and surreptitiously set a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her with a tiny smile nobody else would notice.

  You are such a fool, she scolded herself.

  Peanut reconfigured the monitor’s Tri-V, and a map of the vicinity came up. In a second, a sea of tiny blue pinpoints decorated it. “These are all the units they have searching for us.”

  “Hmf,” she said as she examined the pattern. Efficient, but predictable. All the search teams were using the same type of equipment, too. All the better. “Modify their gear to give a false positive in five minutes,” she said and pointed. “Have us going that way, toward where our operators are being held.”

  “We’re not going there?” Peanut asked. He looked surprised and disappointed. “I have listened to Darrel thinking about it. There are almost no guards. We can be in and out—”

  “That’s what Peepo wants us to think,” Dante said from a few meters away. “Use your head for a change, Child. Splunk might be a fool for believing in these Humans, but she’s a solid commander.”

  “So, you agree with Sly putting her in command?” Sandy asked, her voice surprised.

  “I didn’t say that,” he replied, but he didn’t add anything.

  Splunk knew Dante had it out for her. She’d known it ever since he’d turned up on Karma and tried to make her come back to Kash-Ka. When she’d told him about the Canavar, he’d been as stunned as anyone else. She’d known something was happening when the Human boy showed up suddenly one night. Known it in the depths of her being that it was time for them to come out of hiding.

  “We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Peanut snapped at Dante.

  “Yeah, we are,” Dante replied. “It’s the fact she thinks some sort of damned destiny is guiding her that scares the piss out of me.”

  “Seldia sees it, too,” Splunk reminded him.

  “Seldia is insane, just like all K’apo.”

  Splunk couldn’t argue. They were a necessary part of Dusman society, though. More so after the Disaster than ever before.

  “Speaking of Seldia, when are we going to do it?”

  “Better be now,” Splunk said, looking at the Tri-V. “We’re going to be moving too fast the next couple of days to take the chance. “Everyone double check for unwanted visitors.”

  Nobody saw anything, so they joined her.

  Splunk stood in the center. The other five Dusman reached out, touching each other, making a circle, then each put a hand on her head. Splunk sighed, reached within herself, and stretched.

 

  came the reply from light years away.

  she thought, reluctantly. There was a long pause. Splunk knew Seldia was probably contacting Sly, and she feared what he might say. She hoped it didn’t take long, the strain was incredible. Another presence entered on the Far Talker’s side.

  Sly asked.

  Splunk said.

 

  Silence for a moment.

 

  The connection cut off, and Splunk gasped from the suddenness of it. She’d been expecting something. What? Anger? Accusations? But there had been nothing.

  “He seemed calm,” Peanut said.

  “A Koof always seems calm,” Dante said and snorted. “They seldom understand what’s really going on.”

  “Sly will handle his end of it,” Splunk said, changing the subject. “Our job is to not get caught and see if we can get our operators out.”

  “And cause as much carnage as possible in the meantime,” Dante suggested.

  “Sounds great,” Shadow said.

  Splunk found herself agreeing. Aura would have approved of some payback as well. Suddenly she felt Jim become highly agitated. Something had happened. Either they were interrogating him, or he’d found some piece of information which made him highly upset. She tried to send a calming thought to him.

  Splunk knew it was unlikely he would get the thought. Humans were remarkably weak when it came to receiving thoughts. Maybe it was part of what made them so different from the Lumar? The others cleaned up any evidence of their presence, except the five dead Besquith, of course. It was time to go.

  * * *

  EMS Pegasus, Hyperspace, En Route to Prime Base

  Sansar Enkh paused to build up her resolve, then knocked on the stateroom door.

  “En
ter!” Nigel replied.

  Sansar smiled. That was a better reaction than the last time she’d been there, two days ago. Nigel’s voice sounded neither drunk nor like he was crying. Progress. She opened the door, and he turned from the monitor on his desk. Although he hadn’t been crying, there was something different about his eyes, something feral and dangerous, and Sansar had to steel herself to keep from stepping away from the danger she saw there.

  “Are…are you okay?”

  Nigel smiled, but it never made it to his eyes. “I’m great. For the first time in my life, I have a purpose, something that’s bigger than me.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know what this purpose is.”

  “Of course, you do, as it’s going to be fun for everyone to watch. I’m going to kill all the Veetanho to start, then the MinSha, and probably all the Besquith, too. It’s going to be my mission. I like to think I’ll be doing the galaxy a service by killing all the ruthless killers.”

  Sansar’s hand went to her mouth, but she couldn’t quite stifle the gasp. She’d been wrong to leave Nigel alone for two days. His resolve had stiffened into something entirely unhealthy…not only for him, but for Asbaran, and probably the Human race as well. She thought furiously, using the processing power of all six implants, trying to come up with a way to divert him. Knowing Nigel, though, once he’d set his mind to something, it wasn’t going to be easy to change it.

  “That’s great,” she said finally. “If you really want to know the truth, I personally think the galaxy would be better off without the Veetanho. Can I ask you a question, though?”