Rebel hell hells jesters.., p.40
Rebel Hell (Hell's Jesters, #3), page 40
And she is fine, Greer thought, despite himself. Don’t want to scare her away...
But that was selfish. It was dangerous being in his circle. He didn’t need another loss on his conscience. Already he’d had word of the Succubus’ fate and that hurt more than he really wanted to admit. He didn’t need another distraction. He shouldn’t let himself care again.
But...
“Very well,” Red said. “The Hell’s Jesters await your orders” she paused insolently “Admiral.”
He flipped her an equally dismissive salute. “Welcome to the Fleet of the Union of Free Stars, Captain Red.”
JERRY SAT ON THE WING of the Hog as the approach of a Union transport puffed wind and debris into his face. He wiped away tears, told himself it was all from the dust.
The parked fighter wobbled as Cory clambered up onto it and plopped down at Jerry’s side. “Well, the primary shield projector coil is fused,” she said cheerfully—always cheerful when talking about the machines. “We’re going to have to replace that, too.”
“That’s great, kid.”
“That’s not great.” She slugged him in the arm. “Are you even listening to me? That’s ten hours of work!”
He looked at her with a lopsided grin. “Well, it’s something to do, isn’t it?”
The tone of his response must’ve been off because her cheer withered in a moment, worry darkening her expression. She started to say something, but the roar of the transport’s grav drives as it neared touch-down drowned them out.
The Union ship was a monster, looked like a skyscraper lying down on its side as it landed at the edge of the little burgh, Johnsville—Watkin’s hometown, apparently. A donut of churned debris rushed out from its underside as howling drives settled it. That reached Jerry and Cory in a couple seconds and both had to cover their faces until it subsided.
“You’re thinking about Tina,” Cory said into the relative quiet that followed.
“I was trying not to,” he said, but looked at her with a smile to let her know he wasn’t upset. “But, yeah, she’s always there now.”
“I’m sorry, Jerry.”
“You’re going to need to stop saying it, kid.”
“I’m so—” she cut herself off with a grimace. “I’ll try.”
“Thanks.”
The sides of the transport were cracking open. Ramps extended and machines began to roll out, convoys of hovertrucks, a scattering of armed skimmers that took to the skies with a buzzsaw whine, and even a couple monstrous hovertanks. Columns of troops in the drab green of Union marines followed, unspooling endlessly into the trampled pasturage outside the town. A feeble sun was out, its light glittering on thousands of blastrifles.
“Jesus,” Jerry sighed, “the Union is back to stay.”
“I may have overhead some chatter on the communications networks,” Cory said with an impish grin. “There’s fighting up north of here. The government that attempted to take over and make peace with Syntar—led by someone named McClintock—is under attack by Union loyalists and some independent partisan bands. Admiral Greer is declaring martial law and trying to get between them, avoid a slaughter. It’s a real mess.”
“It seems like we make those wherever we go.”
Cory’s mischievous glee faded. “I also heard that it’s official; we are folding in with the Union military. Red hasn’t said anything to anyone, yet. But I listened in on Greer.”
“After all her resistance...” Jerry shrugged. “Suppose it was inevitable.”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“No doubt.”
“Jerry, I...” She looked like she might say sorry again, clearly thought better of it. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
He opened his mouth but found he had no words to fill it with. Grief, guilt, and anger intermixed into a crushing weight that blanked thought and left him fighting just to hold it together. He inhaled deeply, blew it out, got a grip and moved on.
“I’m hurting, kid. I’m going to be hurting for a while. There’s nothing for it. Sorry...”
“I thought we weren’t saying that.”
“You’re not saying it,” he replied with a playful smile. “I can do whatever I want.”
“What do you want, then?”
He stared at the monstrous starship emptying its guts onto the surface of Loudon. “What I want is to just sit here, for a little while.” He glanced at her. “It’d be all right if you stayed, though.”
She edged a little closer and set a hand on his shoulder. “I can do that.”
A figure emerged from settling dust in the battered khakis of a Raider out of armor. By the sway of her hips, Jerry knew it was Wheeler. Her pearly-toothed smile shined under a dirty-blonde mop of hair that was literally dirty. Somehow he could feel her eyes on him, despite the oversized aviator glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
“You know,” Cory started, “I bet Commander Wheeler wouldn’t mind staying with you a while, either.”
He grunted. “She is a handsome woman.”
“‘Handsome woman’? Who even says that anymore?”
“Maybe I’m old-fashioned.”
“Maybe you’re just old.”
“Then why fret over me?”
She slugged him again in the arm. “Because family takes care of each other, silly.”
He looked at her, surprised at the obviousness of the statement, at its truth. He had a flash of memory then, of being trapped in a crippled shuttle after the fighting above New Jefferson and holding Cory close, badly wounded, wondering how long they’d have before life support failed. He’d promised not to let her go, hadn’t done so even after they’d escaped, through the months of her recovery.
Now they’d switched places. But the caring was the same.
“Yeah,” he said softly, “family does.”
“HERE COMES ANOTHER one!”
Tim and Kelly sat together on a low ridge overlooking the pastures north of Johnsville, where Hellhounds had already parked and Union transports were settling in. Kelly pointed as one of these thundered out of the sky, shaking the very air molecules as it decelerated and edged itself down to the ground. A veritable city of mixed Union and Jester operations was going up around the town, prefab huts erected as command centers, maintenance crews unpacking portable repair suites, and an army of Union troops shaking itself out in the fields.
The citizens of Johnsville quivered in small packs at the crossroads or over by the school, shouting, pointing, and some crying in outrage. Tim had seen a farmhouse sideswiped by a hovertank attempting to maneuver and some of the downtown buildings had already been taken over by battle-armored Union marines. The place was under occupation, still. Only the identity of the occupiers had changed.
Nikki, obvious in her all-black, was proselytizing to one of these groups and the people quieted as she spoke. Heads nodded. That weird trance she and Esau had woven over the Johnsville folk still had potency, even if the spell was hers alone now.
“That is one scary woman,” Kelly said, noticing her.
“She sure is.” Tim shook his head. “I’m surprised they just released her like that. But they’re good, simple folk in, here in Johnsville. Even Ben’s old group isn’t up for cold-blooded murder.”
What he left unspoken is that the Jesters would’ve been.
“How do you think she’s explaining away Esau?”
He shrugged. “Well...she did shoot him. I figure she can bend that any way she wants.”
“She’s going to take this place over again, isn’t she?”
Tim saw Tess cross a street to join the group Nikki was haranguing. Nikki noticed her, turned to her, and said something. Tess began to shake. Tim wondered if anyone had broken the news to her of her brother’s death. He felt a pang of guilt. Probably should have been me. But as he watched, Tess stepped, sobbing into Nikki’s arms.
Forgiveness, it appeared, was in the air.
“She’s going to try,” Tim said, and shivered. “Like you said; scary. I wonder if she was always like that and I just didn’t notice.”
Kelly leaned against him. “Sorry, Tim.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He put his arm over her shoulder, careful not to jar her injuries. “It’s not my problem anymore. None of it is.”
“Oh?”
“None of it,” he replied, almost savagely.
“It’s just that” she pulled away a little bit, so she could look him in the eye “they’re going to need a lot of help here. Even with what’s looking like a full commitment from the Union to rebuilding, this is a generation of work.” She paused and a shiver went across her eyes. “People would understand if you felt your place was here, helping.”
He snorted looking across the bleak landscape and scorched skies. “And how exactly could I help in all of this?”
“You’re a leader, Tim. You know that. People would follow you.” She sounded miserable. “And I’m going to just say it; this place is going to need leaders, someone to counter-balance” she gestured towards Nikki and the throng growing around her “all of that.”
Tim smirked. “You trying to get rid of me already?”
“Not a chance.” She grabbed his face with her good hand suddenly, pulled him into a hard, almost frantic kiss. She held him close a long time. “But...I don’t want you to regret not staying.”
“Regret...” He sighed and looked away from her, looked down on the sad, little town that’d given him birth. “I’ve already wasted enough of my life on it.” He looked back at her. “I think I’d like to spend the rest of my days on something else.”
“You’re sure?” Her tone held relief, but a hint of fear. “That’s what you want?”
He pulled her close again. She looked terrible. And beautiful. “What I want is for you to finally turn yourself over to the medics so we can get you patched up.” He kissed her softly. “After that, what I want is you.”
He could feel her smiling into his lips. “I want that too.”
“Good,” he said and pulled back enough to look into her eyes, “because I also want to stop wasting time. We’ve danced around this long enough. I want this to be whatever it can be for as long as it can be. You and I both know that might not be long.” He brushed a loose strand of auburn from her face. “I want to make the most of it.”
“I’m glad. It won’t be easy.”
He kissed her again. “Well, I hope a few things will.”
She shoved him back playfully. “Be serious.”
“That’s your job.”
“I mean it.” Her voice hardened. “This is going to be work, Tim Watkins. I’m work. You think you’re messed up? You’re not the only one.”
“I’m ready,” he replied, and the words felt good because he meant them, because they were true. He looked across the town again, one more time. “But I can’t do that here.” He groaned as he pulled his aching body to its feet. He turned and offered a hand to Kelly. “So let’s saddle-up and get out of here.”
She took his hand and he helped her up. Again, she settled into his arms and he held her there a while, unwilling to end a moment he knew he’d remember for the rest of his life. Finally, he broke the embrace, but kept her hand in his, began to lead her downslope.
And into the future.
Part 7 – Epilogue
GRAND ADMIRAL NEHEMIAH K. Harrison exited the lift and strode down an austere, poorly-lit hallway that ran a quarter of a kilometer below the surface of Nova Terra and the Admiralty. Generations before, these catacombs had served as shelters for First Diaspora settlers that’d landed here after fleeing the Apocalypse that ended Old Terra. Later, as civilization reemerged, they’d been converted to dungeons for the settlers’ worse criminals.
After constructing the Admiralty complex on the site, the Fleet had remodeled the catacombs—but kept for them the same purpose.
Harrison reached a hexagonal antechamber peopled by Fleet Security men in light gray duty fatigues. These stiffened to attention at his appearance.
One officer, in the full crimson with the service pins of Naval Intelligence saluted and said, “Welcome, Admiral. We’ve been expecting you.”
“Commander Omura,” Harrison replied and returned the salute smartly. “I hope this was worth me delaying my flight out to the Fringe World Fleet.”
“It will be, I assure you, sir. And congratulations on your return to Fleet command. I know they’ll be pleased to have you back at the helm.”
Harrison favored Omura with a half-smile. Terry had been his Intelligence Chief and informal snitch until the debacle at Junction. The spy had kept a low profile since then, conspicuously hard to find, gotten himself reassigned, and not returning calls. It’d been on the level and coldly cordial, of course, but Omura’s ass-covering in light of his boss’ disgrace had strained things between them.
And now?
“You can quit buttering my ass, Terry,” Harrison said. “Just show me what you’ve got.”
“They nabbed her after that disaster at Cerelon,” he said, stepping over to a cell door—one of eight lining the walls. “She hasn’t talked.” He touched the lock plate.
The door slid back from a darkened room and Harrison wrinkled his nose at the stink of unwashed flesh, dry urine, and—faintly—blood. Lights sputtered to illuminate the cell fitfully. A pantherish shape twitched and coiled in upon itself in the corner on a cot.
Harrison sucked in a breath as recognition hit him. “Succubus!”
“Hello, Admiral.”
She’d clearly had a rough time of it. Old bruises kept one eye puffed shut and the other had a feverish glint. Her smile split a swollen lip, started it bleeding again. But she sat up—even though it obviously pained her—and faced him straight-backed.
“Does anyone know who you have down here, Terry?”
“No one, sir.”
“It’s good to see you, too,” the Succubus said drily, running a tongue along the inside of her battered mouth. She spat something. “Don’t suppose a girl could bother you for some water, or maybe nicer lodgings?”
Harrison chortled, had always enjoyed the spy’s attitude. “Oh, Succubus, I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am with this turn of events.
“The Admiral likes his gift?” Omura asked from behind him.
Harrison’s laughter darkened. “I do, indeed.”
Fatigue and the abuse she’d suffered left the Succubus’ veneer of sarcasm and fearlessness thin, but she managed a groan of feigned outrage. “If the choice is listening to you two or another beating, I know which I prefer!”
“What you deserve is a blaster bolt to the face,” Harrison snapped.
She shrugged. “Fine. Get it over with.”
“Oh no.” Harrison shook his head, plans beginning to weave together in his mind. “No, it won’t so easy for you, my dear. Not this time. Not after all your tricks.
“I have an entirely different use in mind for you.”
THE END
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Did you love Rebel Hell? Then you should read Back Into The Fire by K.J. Coble!
The Jesters need a break – they're not going to get one.
Depleted by casualties, marred by personal loss, and driven to the brink of exhaustion, the galaxy's most-feared partisans have fled to the furthest corner of the stars to lick their wounds. But the war isn't done with them.
Driven to desperation by a shortage of the hyper fuels needed to power their interstellar empire, the Grand Galactic Alliance launches a frenzy of attacks. Invading every world suspected of harboring even a thimbleful of resources, they'll accept any loss, so long as they can keep feeding their war machine.
The Union of Free Stars, perennially short of manpower and firepower, buckles before the savagery. They send out the call for all their allies to muster in defense. This time they're not asking the Jesters to come in – they're ordering them.
It seems the only way out of the fire is to go through it.
Read more at K.J. Coble’s site.
Also by K.J. Coble
Hell's Jesters
Hell's Jesters
Cry Havoc
Rebel Hell
Back Into The Fire
Hell or Highwater
Last Call (Coming Soon)
Heroes of the Valley
Defenders of the Valley
Blood in the Valley
Stand in the Valley
Warlock of the Valley
Scourge of the Valley
Curse of the Valley (Coming Soon)
The Quintorius Chronicles
Lord of Exiles
Legion of Exiles
Republic of Exiles
The Vothan Guard
The Tome of Flesh
Crypt of the Violator
The Witch of Vendar
The Witch of Vendar
Hell at the Gates
Twilight in the City of God
Standalone
Magic Fire - Metal Storm
The Shadows of Maunathyrr
Ashes of Freedom
Beyond the Bulwarks
Watch for more at K.J. Coble’s site.
About the Author
Born too strange for a normal world, K.J. Coble endures adulthood through long-distance running, rock ’n’ roll guitar, and his writing. A love of history, weird fiction, and explosions fills his world-building. In his stories the righteous may suffer, but the corrupt get their comeuppance, and evil always receives its justly-deserved kick in the teeth.
