Favour the Bold, page 1
part #16 of The Empire's Corps Series
Favour The Bold
(The Empire’s Corps – Book XVI)
Christopher G. Nuttall
http://www.chrishanger.net
http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/
http://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall
Cover By Tan Ho Sim
https://www.artstation.com/alientan
All Comments Welcome!
Series Listing
Book One: The Empire’s Corps
Book Two: No Worse Enemy
Book Three: When The Bough Breaks
Book Four: Semper Fi
Book Five: The Outcast
Book Six: To The Shores
Book Seven: Reality Check
Book Eight: Retreat Hell
Book Nine: The Thin Blue Line
Book Ten: Never Surrender
Book Eleven: First To Fight
Book Twelve: They Shall Not Pass
Book Thirteen: Culture Shock
Book Fourteen: Wolf’s Bane
Book Fifteen: Cry Wolf
Book Sixteen: Favour The Bold
Cover Blurb
An all-new story of The Empire’s Corps!
Earth has fallen. The Core Worlds have collapsed into chaos. War is breaking out everywhere as planetary governments declare independence, entire sectors slip out of contact and warlords battle for power. The remnants of the once-great Empire are tearing themselves apart.
In the shadows, the Terran Marine Corps works to save what little they can to preserve civilisation and build a better tomorrow. But powerful factions are competing with them, determined to establish their own order. If they cannot be stopped, if the marines cannot hold the line, the galaxy will fall into a new dark age. And there may only be one chance to nip their scheme in the bud.
Does fortune favour the bold? The marines are about to find out.
Historian’s Note
I’ve done my best to make this book, the first of a series exploring what happens in the Core Worlds after Earthfall, as self-contained as possible. It should be comprehensible without ever having read any of the prior books. However, I would advise you to read When The Bough Breaks to set the scene, as it covers Earthfall itself.
CGN
Prologue
From: The Dying Days: The Death of the Old Order and the Birth of the New. Professor Leo Caesius. Avalon. 206PE.
It is difficult to say, with any real certainty, when the collapse of the Galactic Empire became inevitable. The stresses and strains that would eventually tear the empire apart, sparking off a series of vicious civil wars that would kill uncounted trillions of people, were clearly visible - to those who cared to see - hundreds of years before Earthfall. Indeed, by the time I was born - a mere fifty years before Earthfall - it was unlikely that anything could avert collapse. The best anyone could do was stave off disaster for a handful of years. Eventually - inevitably - Earth collapsed into madness, then death. It took the Core Worlds with it.
The chain of events that led to Earthfall - and the plans made by some, particularly the Terran Marine Corps, to salvage something from the disaster - have been amply documented elsewhere. Our historical records are open to debate - and generations of historians have debated extensively - but the basic facts are not in dispute. Reconstructing the events following Earthfall, however, will always pose a challenge. It is very difficult to track the course of events, as the news radiated out from Earth. There were naval officers, for example, who declared themselves warlords ... only to be swept away, days later, by the press of events; there were space stations, asteroid settlements and entire colonies that were wiped out, in passing, by one side or another. Governments declared quite draconian measures to control unrest - or secure their power, or remove minorities they found troublesome - and discovered, too late, that they were quite unable to enforce them. There are great gaps in the historical record that will probably never be filled.
It is simply impossible, too, to grasp the true scale of the disaster. Earth’s official population, before Earthfall, was eighty billion. Eighty billion! The human mind cannot imagine so many people. It certainly cannot truly comprehend their deaths in a few short days of nightmarish horror. Nor can it grasp the deaths - millions, billions, trillions - that followed in the days, weeks and months after Earthfall. They died because society collapsed around them, they died because of military action, they died because they were the wrong sort of people and the military was no longer around to oppress everyone into behaving themselves ... in the end, it doesn’t matter why they died. All that matters is that they died.
There were some, even before my birth, who understood that the end could not be delayed indefinitely. First amongst them was the Terran Marine Corps, led - in its final years - by Major-General Jeremy Damiani. Enjoying an independence from the Grand Senate that even the Imperial Navy could not dream of, possessing an infrastructure that was largely free of political interference, corruption and cronyism, the marines were free to make their preparations for the coming disaster. Long before they recruited me - and shipped me to Avalon - they had a plan. It was not a good plan, as Damiani happily admitted, but it was the best they could put together on short notice. It says something about the scale of the problem that ‘short notice’ was nearly a century.
The first part of the plan called for securing colony worlds, like Avalon.
The second part of the plan involved the Core ...
Chapter One
It is difficult to say when the Fall of the Galactic Empire became obvious to the vast majority of its citizens. The Core Worlders, living as they did in a political, media and social bubble, had no idea of the gathering storm until the empire collapsed and all hell broke loose. The Fringers, on the other hand, had very little contact with the Core and didn’t realise - at first - that Earth was gone.
- Professor Leo Caesius. Earthfall and its Aftermath.
The city was unnaturally dark.
Specialist Rachel Green felt her heart start to pound as the aircar flew towards the distant spaceport, her enhanced eyesight picking out the armed helicopters and skimmers orbiting the installation and watching for signs of trouble. Hundreds of aircars, trucks and buses were heading to the spaceport too, the rats leaving the sinking ship. The news - Earthfall - had arrived only two weeks ago and the planet was already chaotic. The policemen, guardsmen and soldiers on the streets below weren’t enough to keep long-held discontents from bursting into violence.
It will be worse when they realise that food is going to run out, sooner rather than later, she thought. Gamma Prime had never been a particularly habitable world, more dependent than most on advanced technology and food imports. There was no way they could feed everyone, now that interstellar trade had gone to the dogs. And when they realise their leaders have abandoned them, they’ll go mad with rage.
She looked down at the darkened CityBlocks - the power had been cut, only a few short hours ago - and shivered in sympathy. The towering skyscrapers weren’t anything as horrific as the endless warrens of Old Earth - dead Earth, now - but they were still nightmarish, as far as she was concerned. Generations of people could be born, get married, have children, grow old and die ... without ever stepping into the wider world. She wondered, as the aircar adjusted course and flew towards the security zone, if Lieutenant Opal Moonchild would be grateful that Rachel had taken her place. She’d be transported off-world, whatever happened. She’d survive the brewing chaos that would throw the planet into the deepest, darkest pits of hell.
She’ll be grateful once she realises she’s no longer in any danger, Rachel told herself, firmly. Lieutenant Moonchild had been on long-leave, before Earthfall and the emergency recall of everyone who had ever worn a uniform. It’s I who should be concerned.
The aircar started to descend, heading towards the landing pad. Rachel took a long breath, calming herself. She always got the shakes before a mission began, particularly one that left her isolated from the rest of the team. She’d known she’d be on her own going in, of course, right from the moment she’d been briefed ... but no training and planning could ever encompass the feeling of being completely alone. If everything went to hell, she’d have to punch her way out and hope for the best. And she knew, all too well, that if her cover was blown once she was inside the security perimeter, she didn’t have a hope of getting out alive.
As long as it isn’t quite impossible, she thought, I can do it.
The aircar landed with a bump. The hatch opened. Rachel stood and clambered out, looking around with interest. The entrance was guarded by five heavily-armed men, looking so much like hulking gorillas that she knew they were enhanced. Their enhancements probably weren’t comparable to hers, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. She was mildly surprised their employers hadn’t tried to hide the enhancements. They probably had all their licences in order - and no one really cared any longer, in any case - but humans still reacted badly to openly-enhanced soldiers. It saved a great deal of angst if the enhancements were carefully hidden.
One of the guards peered down at her with cold, discerning eyes. “Papers, please.”
Rachel removed the biochip from her blouse and held it out to him, trying to show just the right amount of unease under his porcine gaze. He took the chip and scanned it, his companions keeping a close eye on her. Rachel braced herself, silently calculating how best to escape if the mission failed at the first hurdle. She’d worn a tight blouse, deliberately, but they weren’t eying her like a piece of meat. That was worrying. It suggested they were depressingly professional. They’d be harder to fool.
The biochip is perfect, she told herself firmly. And all the details were inserted into the central databases.
The guard returned the chip and opened the door. “Pass, friend.”
Rachel felt a chill running down her spine as she walked through the door and into a large foyer. Hundreds of men and women - some clearly military, some more likely civvies - were sitting on chairs, or the hard metal floor; others, more impatient, were pacing the room while they waited to be called. Rachel found a seat and forced herself to wait, watching as names were called and people left to pass through security screening. It was nearly an hour before they called for Opal Moonchild. Rachel couldn’t help feeling uneasy - again - as she walked through the door and into the security section. If she was going to be caught, she was going to be caught here.
Another guard, a stern-faced woman, caught her eye. “Strip,” she ordered, shoving a large plastic box at Rachel. “Put everything, and I mean everything, in this box, then seal it up and walk into the next room.”
“I understand,” Rachel said. Opal would be nervous, so Rachel acted nervous. “What will they ...?”
“Get on with it,” the woman ordered. “My shuttle’s leaving at 2250 and I don’t intend to miss it.”
Rachel nodded and undressed hastily, then walked into the next room. Her implants bleeped an alert as soon as the door closed, warning that her body was being scanned right down to the submolecular level. Rachel was torn between being morbidly impressed by their thoroughness and rolling her eyes in disdain. She didn’t have to be naked for a deep scan. It was probably just a reminder that her life was in their hands, that it had been in their hands from the moment she received the recall notice. She schooled her expression into impassivity as the next door opened, allowing her to walk into the third chamber. Three beefy security guards were waiting.
“The scan says you have a neural implant,” the guard said. He kept his eyes firmly on her face. “What’s it for?”
“Porn,” Rachel said, trying to sound ashamed. It wasn’t easy. She’d feared they’d detect the rest of her implants. “I use it for VR sims ...”
“A pretty girl like you needs VR sims?” The guard held up a scanner. “I have to test it.”
“Go ahead.” Rachel bent her head as he pressed the scanner against the back of her neck, trying not to tense too visibly. If the scanner picked up more than it should, she’d have bare seconds to take them all out before the alert sounded and the entire complex went into lockdown. “I ... will it hurt?”
“Stay still,” the guard ordered. “It’s just a simple ping ...”
Rachel smiled as her implants went to work, feeding false information into the scanner while - at the same time - accessing the security systems and subverting them. The scanner wouldn’t see anything more than a simple VR cortical stimulator: shameful, as if she’d been caught with a datachip loaded with porn, but hardly illegal. Or dangerous. She could put up with hundreds of ribald jokes if it meant they missed the rest of her implants. She wondered, idly, what they’d make of it if they did. They’d certainly have reason to suspect that something was wrong.
“What a waste,” the guard said. “You wouldn’t need such a toy if you were with me.”
“If you say so,” Rachel said. She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Can I go now?”
“Yeah, sure.” The guard pointed at yet another door. “See you on the flip side.”
Rachel shrugged, then walked through the door and into a small changing room. A large matron was waiting for her, holding a simple uniform tunic in one hand. Her face was friendly, but her eyes were flint-hard ... an anger, Rachel thought, directed at the security goons rather than Rachel herself. She felt an odd flicker of respect for the older woman. She clearly took care of the girls in her charge.
“You alright?” The matron’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that reminded Rachel of some of her sergeants. “They can be a little ... intrusive.”
“Just a little.” Rachel took the tunic and donned it with practiced ease. “Do they have to make us strip naked?”
“They’re assholes,” the matron agreed. “Buy a girl a drink first, why don’t you?”
Rachel had to laugh. “What now?”
“Now you wait for your shuttle,” the matron said. She held out one meaty hand. “I’m Grace, by the way. I don’t recall seeing you before.”
“I’ve been on leave,” Rachel said. Opal had been on leave for over a year, long enough - Rachel hoped - for everyone to forget her. She’d had few acquaintances and even fewer friends before she’d gone on leave. As far as the data-miners had been able to determine, there shouldn’t be anyone who’d known her assigned to the spaceport. “I only got the recall yesterday.”
Grace shrugged. “Wait in the lounge,” she ordered. “Have a drink, if you like. We’ll be boarding in an hour.”
Rachel nodded, keeping her face under tight control as she made her way into the lounge. It was crammed with people, all military or ex-military. They barely spoke ... or drank, for that matter. The tension was so thick it was almost tangible. She wondered, absently, where the civvies were going, then decided it didn’t matter. She’d made it through the security perimeter. The rest of the mission should be easy.
Don’t get overconfident, she told herself, as she found a seat and settled down to wait. You’re not there yet.
Rachel was used, very used, to waiting, but it still felt as if time was moving slower than usual before they were finally called to the shuttle. The relief in the air was almost palpable. The civilians might be too ignorant to know the planet was doomed, but the military personnel had no such luxury. Blasting into space might be their only hope of survival ... no, scratch that, it was their only hope. Grace checked her girls were all buckled in before taking her own seat and waiting for take-off. Rachel felt a pang of guilt, mingled with the grim awareness she was probably doing Grace a favour. It was never easy when she liked one of the people she was going to betray.
“I hate flying,” the girl next to her muttered. “I really hate flying ...”
“It could be worse,” Rachel said. She’d made a HALO jump through a thunderstorm once, back when she’d been young - well, younger - and stupid. The shuttle might be a military design, built more for practicality than comfort, but it was hardly an assault shuttle making a landing on a defended world. “Just close your eyes. It’ll all be over soon.”
She allowed herself a tight smile as the shaking slowly tapered into nothingness. The shuttle flight was astonishingly smooth, compared to some of her flights ... but then, someone who’d spent most of her career behind a desk probably wouldn’t realise it. Rachel reminded herself, sharply, that Opal had spent most of her career behind a desk. She’d probably be scared to death if she was on the shuttle. Rachel sighed. She’d left it too late to pretend.
A voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be docking at the shipyard in two hours, thirty-seven minutes. Please sit back and enjoy the flight. Anyone who wants to join the Light Year Club can apply at the front hatch ...”
Rachel concealed her amusement as a senior officer towards the front of the shuttle began to shout in outrage. Idiot. He might outrank the pilot, normally, but as long as they were in transit the pilot outranked him. He’d be better off waiting until they docked before he gave the pilot the ass-chewing to outdo all ass-chewings. Besides, who cared about stupid jokes when the galaxy was falling apart?
