Rebellion (Rebel Wars Book 1) Read online

  “Proje-“ Robert started.

  “Yes I see. It technically doesn’t violate the laws as it will be using…well you know. I don’t like this plan.” Project said with not even a slight attempt at heading the jealousy in his musical voice.

  “It hasn’t ever really been done. And I’m not certain I like it either. But the girls would have to know that when they uploaded this. It’s quite far from Forge-ready, so we’ll worry about it later. Send a copy of this file and all related information to my office. Also, get yourself prepared. I’m tagging you into the mission.” Robert said.

  He turned off the computer with a thought and started heading out of the building, satisfied with his findings but far more disturbed than he had been before. Why would the girls attempt to build such a monstrosity as that, and furthermore why would Alice approve it? As ship’s captain and an officer in the rebellion Councilman Tate had to respect her judgement, but he doubted the rest of the council would have approved of such a project. Unfortunately, none of them are still alive to help him make this decision. Robert collected his guards and ordered the remains of the tiger stuffed and sent to his office. No reason to let such a beautiful corpse go to waste.

  Chapter 9

  Hero was nervous. He had no idea why he was so nervous, he’d proven his mettle at least twice now. The woman before him had transformed from a beautiful, albeit a bit too serious, flower into a dangerous weapon. Every time she flung her arms outwards she connected, and try as he might he wasn’t able to see them coming in time. She buffeted him with blow after blow, hitting his bare chest and leaving an ugly reddish mark each time. He could tell that she was getting frustrated, and they’d only been sparring for a few hours now. She had tried to teach him everything that she had seen Cal go through during training, but Hero was simply not that kind of guy. He was brave, and he had a stroke of danger to him at times but not enough seriousness within him to be a true warrior.

  He held his hands up in an attempted block and was thrown down to the ground by the ferocity behind her punch. He looked up weakly and shook his head, trying to catch his breath. Fiora showed no signs of exertion, relaxed as though this was her natural state. Frustrated and violent. It occurred to Hero that someone may find her attractive in this state, however it only increased his longing for the innocent Tillman sister- Milly.

  “S…sss…stop. Gimme a second would you?” He said through clenched teeth, opening his mouth wide to suck in a deep breath of air. He stretched his arms out and pushed himself help to his feet, moving to the side line for a refreshing drink of water. He gulped the entire bottle down in two long swallows, feeling the coolness refreshing him.

  “Ugh. You realize that we have work to do right? We have a mission coming up, and from the look on Alice’s face I don’t think it’s going to be an easy win. You got lucky last time, remember?” Fiora said. How long would she throw that up in his face? His container had been devoid of soldiers, that wasn’t his fault. He was there, armed and ready and had been the first to breach the container. He had demonstrated all that he felt was necessary and Milly had agreed that he was quite brave. Only this arrogant, brash woman before him dared to keep calling out his manhood. It was hard for him to counter her words, as hard as it had been for him to counter her fists. He shook his head, this wasn’t anything he’d ever wanted. At first, it had been like a dream come true, he would finally be the warrior and hero he always dreamed of being. He had left the trenches of solid grunt work and had moved up to the main character in the story. This was the best thing that ever happened to him, though in truth it only happened because he had the courage to stab a surrounded man in the back. He dropped down to his knees and said a silent prayer, springing up in a sudden lunge and rushing towards Fiora. Every hit she’d given him, he attempted to repay. One slashing palm, a straight kick towards her chest, a haymaker to the side of her face. Not a single one connected, and a simple sliding kick ripped his feet out from underneath him and sending him once again on his backside.

  “Hero. You’re hopeless.” Fiora said, shaking her head and grabbing her own bottle of water. What the hell was she supposed to do with this boy? He was supposed to replace Cal, and yet there was far too much fear and hesitation in his heart. She had trained with Cal for quite a long time, and his death had crippled something inside of her yet had awoken something new. This focus seemed to radiate just underneath her finger tips like a bolt of lightning coursing through her nervous system. She could barely sleep, and hated herself for not being there during the fight. She’d worked the night shift and had decided to rest, falling into a deep sleep only to be awoken by weapons being thrust into her face. She’d no choice but to surrender and be taken with the others, and by then she’d been bound and unable to do anything. It was a point of shame within her that would never go away, and now she wanted nothing more than to fight on the frontlines with Alice and her men. The cold water was stale on her tongue as was the air she breathed into her lungs. This wasn’t working.

  It took every effort for Hero to stand up and look Fiora in the eyes. He wasn’t ready to give up, but he was done with the training for the day. He had other plans, and Milly had never left his thoughts. He just kept telling himself that if he stuck to his rifle training he would never have to get into the mix like this and wouldn’t have to rely on his subpar hand-to-hand skills. The rifle could be his saving grace, though he knew that Fiora would preach to him the tools of the Paladin and why they were necessary in this day and age. He walked over to the bench in the squarish gymnasium they were practicing in his bare feet running over the smooth rubber of the padded floor. He had grown up playing sports in gyms just like this, and wasn’t impressed by it at all. It was simple, and he reasoned that was all it ever had to be. Unlike him, he couldn’t be simple. He couldn’t just farm and work and love and live. He had to fight because he was human and the Corporation didn’t want him to be. They wanted him to be one of them, and he had no desire to join their ranks. He grabbed a towel off the bench and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “I’m done for the day. I’ve gotta go somewhere.” Hero said.

  “Yeah, don’t keep her waiting champ.” Fiora said, her tone held no ounce of support for his romantic pursuits. She was busy stretching once more, bent over and eliciting slow pops from her spine. Her low cut top offered Hero a view he couldn’t help but take in before catching himself and turning away in embarrassment. Fiora noticed but didn’t care, she was used to guys who couldn’t keep their eyes off of her “strongest” features. Except for Cal. She had intentionally tried to get him to ogle her body, and he never did. He was the benchmark, she assumed, for all men she would ever meet. She stood up straight and arched her back in the same seductive manner she’d done for Cal, and Hero’s eyes returned to her. She smirked, gave him a wink and made her way out of the gym adding just a little bit of wiggle to her hips as she did so.

  Hero’s hands adjusted the wrinkles in his clothes, smoothing them out and making them appears as if they had fit just perfectly the whole time. He hadn’t brought anything nice with him, and the spare money he had was enough to get some second hand. His shirt was a silky blue and his pants were blue jeans that reflected a slight amount of use in the faded fabric around the knees. He added a layer of gel to his deep black hair and set it up like a fire ablaze. He cracked his neck out of habit and took a deep breath. He opened the doors to the fitting room and stepped out, grinning like a man who had won the lottery.

  “You look so handsome, Hero.” Milly stated, reflecting his smile back at him like a love-struck mirror. She was wearing a golden dress that shined with sparkling diamonds throughout the fabric. Her head was smooth and bald like normal, she’d asked if Hero wanted her to wear a wig but he had insisted he liked her the way she was. The warmth she’d been frustrated with within her on the ship gave way to a natural feeling now. She couldn’t help but feel as if the world was hers and everything was truly okay when she was with Hero. She’d tried t
o visit mom and dad, but they had been too busy in one of their various projects to allow her even a quick visit. Andreya and Lisa told her not to worry about it, but they were never as close to their parents as she was. The plan had been to take Hero down to the gardens and into the Forge to meet her parents and to show him the wonders of the Tower. Hero had been nervous although he seemed to enjoy the depths of the Tower so far. The various shops and restaurants made him smile every time something new or delicious caught his eyes. So far they’d had a great night together, and it was the exodus to the Tower that remained to be done.

  They’d held hands down the crowded streets and she’d barked off all the various facts she’d remembered about the 45 million people that lived in this sprawling station. She told him about the weapons design teams, the fleet maintenance operations and the civilians. They came here to avoid the hand of the Corporation in everything they did and found a freedom that even the stars seemed to take away from these days. This was the living breath of the rebellion and where the humans who wanted nothing to do with the Corporation came to live. Often times the Corporation would send in rioters or vocal Corp supporters to try and create chaos in the streets but they failed almost as soon as they started. The patriots here were unlike the ones that any living in ancient Earth times could have expected. These were true patriots, people not only willing to kill and die for their chosen statehood but to listen and speak for it as well. Ancient days diplomacy was always about outmaneuvering one’s opponents or manipulating their thoughts with speech, but in today’s times it was about true empathy and understanding. Fear was what drove humans to the Corp, fear in being killed in a war they wanted nothing to do with; fear of the Calamity and its unknown power, fear of poverty or starvation. All of the fears that people had were being divided up and conquered by the factions in order to win their loyalty. The Corporation was winning that battle but the rebellion wasn’t far behind. The glory of the Tower served the purpose of demonstrating that humanity still had hope in their freedom.

  Milly took Hero to her favorite restaurant from her childhood. It had been many years since she had been back to the tower, but the flavor of the noodles of her youth never left her pallet. She thought it was adorable how she had to teach him to order, and the proper manners in eating the delicacy. The savory steak blended into the stew and noodles offered an escape for both of them, from the terrors they’d endured the past few weeks and the ones they knew were right ahead. Milly asked Hero about the red blotches on his face and the bruise that was swelling his forehead, and he waved it off. He told her about the training matches he had endured in order to work on his physical strength. She frowned slightly and told him she would create him something in her lab just for him, so he wouldn’t have to get hurt. He had laughed and kissed the back of her hand, causing them both to turn scarlet.

  Hero paid for his new clothes and grabbed Milly’s hand as they sauntered out of the clothing store, looking into her eyes for a moment and curling his lips into a slight smile. Above them in the projected night sky, the stars exploded brilliantly into a kaleidoscopic array of fireworks. Hero jumped back, startled at the cacophonous booms and luminescent colors. He tripped over himself and started to fall, but Milly full of grace grabbed his arms and pulled him towards her where he pushed forward and planted his lips against hers. At first she was stunned, but soon found herself falling in line with the kiss and mimicking his tongue’s movement. Neither one of them knew much about kissing, but they would both be each other’s best teachers. This moment in the crowded streets filled with the dust of the road and the bustle of patriots around them, the sky was on fire and the shadows eased their grip. Hero kept his lips against hers, and she wouldn’t have let him go yet anyways.

  Chapter 10

  They had lost four transport vessels and several men to the rogue colonist Alice and her men. Alice had begun to form a legend around her name, one the Demon quickly tried to squash. But soldiers loved their god-like figures and their rumors. Their lives were too short and the idea that they could end it in battle with a demi-god or better was an exciting proclamation. The Demon worked tirelessly in his office to submit various falsified reports to counter act the data logs that some human woman single-handedly fell an entire squad of Corp soldiers. His counter information had two real results, one it made soldiers suspicious why so much counter information was “Suddenly” being presented out of nowhere, and two it made some of the soldiers shrug and forget that they may soon fight a demi-god. Such things were the stories of five year old fresh cadets, and not older gentlemen like themselves at twelve years old. They had seen such things! They knew better.

  The Demon was getting old, much older than he truly wished to be. At 30 years old he was well over halfway to his grave and had accomplished much, but his ambition hadn’t slowed down in the least bit. He had conquered twelve planets and countless colonies in his life-time of service to the Corporation and now he was being prepared for retirement! That was not going to do. At the Ceremony this year they were going to announce his replacement and allow him to live the remainder of his years in servitude to his massive library. He loved the Library, there was no doubt about it. It had been truer to him than any woman or soldier he’d ever met and the depths of information stored there made him one of the most dangerous men in the entire Corporation and even the galaxy. The Library was only one piece of him however, and the violent soldier inside of him wouldn’t allow him to not taste blood again. He wasn’t going to hand the reigns to his specially trained Inquisition force either. He had built them, trained them, educated them, and made them one of the most effective forces in existence. They knew tactics from every race the Corporation had ever conquered and could use weapons few even knew existed. They were his other pride and joy next to the Library.

  The Demon’s greying brow furrowed as he put the finishing touches on another information broadcast, masterfully manipulating the facts to make the rebellion look like spoiled children once more. His hands had the signs of wrinkled age upon them, and yet they didn’t have the pains of arthritis. He couldn’t be bothered to slow down with inflammation of the joints, so he simply didn’t get any of the afflictions of age. The wonders of their physiology and technology were grand compared to humanity, but he had to give it to humans- they could live far longer than his kind could. Well most of them anyways, he wasn’t going to allow this Alice woman a natural life-span. He was quite amazed they hadn’t heard much of her sooner. What with the death of the human terrorist Alex (her husband) and her involvement in the escape of Councilman Robert Tate, and her own betrayal of the Corporation it was only a matter of time before she’d strike back. He supposed that maybe she’d tried the peaceful life, but like him she would not make a good home-maker. They were destruction incarnate, hellish and violent devils inhabiting corporeal forms. He had watched the streamed vids of her space battle over and over again, exhilarated by the sheer hateful way she’d approached the battle. He didn’t feel bad one bit for the commanders of those vessels, nor should he. They fought well, they were just morons to have fallen for her tactics. Arrogance perhaps.

  The Demon knew one thing that most other Corporation men did not, they were mortal. He knew that they bled and died and though they were physically superior in many was to their opponents, they were not immortal. He’d watched Alex gun and sword down a dozen of his men that had outflanked him. A feat created from a dark heart, forged in bloodlust and malice. Oh how the thoughts still gave him chills! The Demon smirked and closed his portable terminal, cracking his aging hands together as he stood up. The two Inquisitors he’d posted as his personal guard gave him quick looks, their bionic eyes scanning him over for any sort of possible discomfort. They noted his body temperature, his blood-sugar levels, and even his most logical mood. The Demon was proud of the gift he’d given his Inquisitors, the gift of knowledge. They could summon up any reference from his Library in a thought and also disassemble the world around them into bits of data and
logic. That’s why they were so good at killing, it was impossible to hide from creatures that had already anticipated all possible spots and tactical decisions. They could calculate firing angles and percentages to perfection and were able to leverage an opponent’s own mind against them.

  They were taller than even the tallest of Corp soldiers, the distinct nine feet of their height made them viable targets, and Inquisitors were best when being shot at. Their armor was black and grey, mixed and meddled with various minerals and ores to create a near-impenetrable hide. Every time they were struck, the kinetic dampeners would absorb the force and pour it directly into their own power sources giving them further strength like hyperactive toddlers on a sugar rush. They didn’t need adrenal glands, so he’d removed them to make them less emotional. Instead their armor recruited all the muscular mass it needed when it deemed it appropriate. The armor was a second mind inside their head and was programmed to think for them when it needed to. Every hit against it allowed it to calculate a new firing pattern or tactic to dispatch the foe they were fighting with the quickest of actions. It did not due to have a prolonged fire-fight, the armor wanted to be soaked in blood as quickly as possible. The faces of the Inquisitors were carved out of stone and imbued with electronic components. They didn’t feed and they didn’t talk, so mouths were unnecessary and The Demon had removed them. They didn’t process olfactory sensation, so the nose had been sheared off and left with just enough ventilation to allow breath. The lungs had been altered to maximize little oxygen intake and keep the brutes running with minimal need for the gas. Shoulders were broadened and laid thick with marbled muscle and immaculate armor plates. The most dangerous features they held was not their minds or bionic implants, not even the incredible musculature they boasted, but their weaponry.