NORDIC WRATH (War In the Void Book 2) Read online




  Contents

  Title Page

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twemty-One

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  NORDIC WRATH

  War in the Void Book Two

  by

  Anthony Thackston

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  No part, section or chapter from this book may be reproduced in any capacity outside of the original work without author’s written consent except where brief quotes are used for review.

  Copyright © 2017 Anthony Thackston

  Prologue

  Dark History

  War changes a person. Before, during and especially after.

  Earth’s populace and fighting forces were not the only ones affected during the Ka’traxis Brood War. The Nordics possessed technologies advanced enough to turn the tides of battle during secret missions on behalf of Earth. Since they had no military of their own they were dependent upon the Earth for defensive capabilities. The trade deals that were struck were as secret as some of the missions. Very few humans or Nordics in the upper echelons of authority knew of these black missions or the deals made in the shadows.

  Most Nordics were passive by nature. Haddron Lariscthyus was not one of them. Genetic variations— mutations— made some Nordics prone to aggression. Nordics like Haddron.

  Haddron Lariscthyus was tasked with gathering a team of like minded individuals who had no qualms with participation in darker plots. But when the war ended, it was Haddron who was left holding a smoking gun. Accused of an offense punishable by death on Earth, he could not be— as an alien— sentenced to the full extent of human law and was jailed for a maximum sentence on an asteroid penitentiary orbiting Earth’s nearest cousin star, Proxima Centauri.

  Loss in battle lead to thoughts of revenge. Betrayal by one’s allies lead to thoughts of ruin. Haddron Lariscthyus had a long time to think about his betrayal and how he would ruin those who set it in motion.

  And his jail sentence was up.

  One

  Release

  A wood post shook and splintered as blindingly rapid fists struck it. The concrete floor around the post darkened as sweat dripped from the nimble man as he worked, striking combos on the post.

  Smaller splinters of wood and strands of the man’s long hair stuck to his sweat-drenched face.

  The post had been struck many times over the course of Haddron Lariscthyus’s imprisonment. Today was different though. Today, Haddron was finally getting out of his years long incarceration. Despite the happy news, he didn’t smile. His brow remained in a focused scowl as he continued to hit the unmoving wooden sparring partner.

  Several fist strikes then palm hits sent more pieces of wood flying to the floor of his cell. He moved onto chops. The side of his hand was like an axe chipping away at a tree. It wasn’t power or strength that was destroying the post, it was sheer speed.

  “At it again?” a male voice asked from outside of the cell.

  Haddron’s only response was a final strike. His hand went clean through the middle of the post, chopping the top half off.

  The dense piece of wood fell to the floor with a thud.

  “I thought you Nordics were all about peace and love,” the prison guard said.

  Haddron turned to the door of his cell to spot the guard’s condescending smile. He walked to the door and quickly grabbed the bars over the window. The guard jumped back, startled at the speed. Even after all that work, Haddron was still incredibly fast.

  “Did you want something?” Hadron whispered. His words were articulate and clear like someone well studied. But there was more to it than that. There was a venom in his tone. Like he was hiding something dark and sinister.

  “I’m glad you’re out today.” The guard’s voice held a hint of unease.

  Haddron smiled and brushed the strands of hair away from his face. “That makes two of us.”

  * * *

  Steam rose from the hot shower. Water cascaded down Haddron’s pale form. He was an athletically lean man who didn’t seem like much of a threat except to the guards who had become familiar with his skill sets over the years. That was why the four guards outside the shower were armed with Wartech Industries’ 10X DMG rifles. Any being who could treat a dense wooden post as Haddron did deserved an extreme level of caution.

  The guards kept their rifles ready to fire if the need arose. Haddron paid them no attention as he turned off the water and reached for his towel. His arm shot out and grabbed the towel like a snake uncoiling. Boots on the tile floor shuffled as the movement surprised the guards. Haddron smiled at their reaction to his toying.

  The heavy duty rifles were overkill. Any gun would do the job, assuming the guard firing it was fast enough to get the drop on Haddron. But if they did need to get the drop on him, they wanted to be sure it was with extreme prejudice.

  Haddron wrapped the towel around his waist and slowly turned, putting his hands above his head and interlocking his fingers.

  He stepped out of the stall and led the guards out of the shower area.

  * * *

  The dull lighting of the changing room reflected off of the scuffed and scratched steel shoulder guards integrated into Haddron’s jacket. The same light reflected off of forearm guards as Haddron took his time buttoning the jacket.

  “Let’s go,” one of the guards said nervously.

  Haddron fastened the last button. “Why the rush?”

  He propped one foot up on a bench and buckled the fasteners on his boot. The steel toe on the boot was exposed from the thick leather that once covered it. It was a rusted color from wear and exposure to the elements.

  “We got other work to do beside babysitting you,” a different guard barked in an attempt at bravery.

  Haddron quickly changed boots. It was another maneuver to toy with the guards. Also to remind them of who they were dealing with. They all flinched then leaned forward, their guns aimed at him.

  Haddron stood up straight. “But don’t you realize this is the last time we will all be together?”

  “Sounds good to me.” One of the guards kept his focus down the barrel of his gun. “Now hurry up!”

  “Very well.” Haddron began to step forward.

  “Slow!” the guard ordered.

  Haddron smirked. If he wanted to disarm them, he could. And they all knew it. The posturing was just that. Posturing. It served no other purpose but to make them feel safe and in control.

  * * *

  “Prisoner One-Oh-Five-Seven-Nine,” a man in a business suit said from behind a table. “Haddron Lariscthyus. You are hereby free from incarceration on time served.”

  “I appreciate your accommodating me for such an extended period of time, Warden.” Haddron stood across the small table, his hands behind his back.

  The Warden took a deep breath, calming his own nerves from the irritating remark. “Professionally speaking, you have been an outstanding inmate. Completely peerless during your sentence. Personally spe
aking, I would have executed you for your crimes. If it wasn’t for Nordic treaties and—”

  “I suppose, then, that it is a good thing for Nordic treaties.” Haddron shifted his hands to his front. “My effects, sir?”

  The Warden looked Haddron up and down, angry that this criminal was getting out of prison. Angrier that he was getting away with his treason. Under the treaty he couldn’t be sentenced in the same way a human would be, only imprisoned in an Earth run jail.

  Another guard slid an open gray tub across the desk toward to the Warden. There wasn’t much inside it.

  “One Medal of Valor. Undeserved,” the Warden grumbled as he lifted the military award out.

  Haddron took the medal and proudly pinned it to his jacket.

  “One belt and holster for firearm. Note the firearm is missing.” The Warden dropped the weapon rig on the table.

  Haddron took the belt and secured it around his waist. Even without the gun, the full dress made him look respectable. It was a disgusting sight to the humans around him. As far as they were all concerned he didn’t deserve any of it.

  The Warden looked Haddron right in the eyes. “You are a disgrace to that uniform.”

  “Please, Warden, do not be like that. We were once allies on the battle field.” Haddron smirked.

  “Until you—”

  “I stand by my innocence.”

  The Warden shook his head. “Like every other criminal in this place.”

  Haddron cleared his throat and glanced down at the last item in the tub.

  The Warden reluctantly reached down and pulled out a curious little box with a translucent white lens set into it. A clip was fixed to the back of the box.

  “All these years and I still don’t know what this thing is.” The Warden turned the box over in his hands. “I should probably keep it. Who knows what you plan on doing with it.”

  Haddron held out his hand, anxious when the Warden ran his thumb over the lens. “Well, since you don’t know what it is or does, perhaps you should place it in more knowledgable hands.”

  “Watch your tone, Haddron.” The Warden was determined to remind Haddron of who was in charge “You aren’t free from these walls yet.”

  Haddron’s defiance melted. The Warden was right. And while it would not be difficult for the Nordic to disarm the guards around him, there was still the issue of getting out of the prison. He was incredibly fast. Not incredibly strong. Or bulletproof.

  “Forgive me, Warden. The thought of freedom has me eager and a little sure of myself.”

  The Warden gave him another glance up and down. He didn’t trust Haddron, even with time served. There was something scheming in his eyes. But scheming was not a crime and whether his gut was right or wrong there was no other reason for him to keep the Nordic locked up.

  He handed over the little box and Haddron took it, excited to have this one item back in his possession. He clipped it to his belt, making sure the white lens faced outward the he held his hand out to the Warden.

  “Thank you again for your hospitality.” He smiled.

  “Get him out of here,” the Warden ordered.

  Haddron turned and walked to the door, the four guards still covering him.

  * * *

  The main door of the prison slammed shut behind the Nordic. Haddron could hear the multiple deadbolts lock in place. Even if he wanted to get back inside, it was impossible now. He took in a deep breath of recycled air from inside the dome surrounding the prison and then exhaled. The air was too clean and lacked the weight of humidity and minerals. Still, it kept him alive.

  The walking path leading away from the prison door was flat and very different from the surrounding area. The jagged gray rock illuminated only by the exterior prison lights stuck out like sharpened hills. No movement occurred as far as he could see. All the way out to the clear dome wall. His eyes rose from the bottom of the dome all the way to its roof. There he could see the reflection of light from Proxima Centauri hitting the curved part of the dome.

  A hiss came from the shadows. “Your stay was pleasant?”

  Haddron didn’t even bother looking. “It was as expected. And you, old friend? How are our goals coming along?”

  A large hooded figure stepped into the light and towered over Haddron. “I have completed the first two in your absence. Of course the third requires your touch.”

  “I would have it no other way.”

  Haddron extended his hand and the figure took it in his large, furry palm. The two shook as the hooded figure removed his covering. The whiskered face and slit pupils of the Ka’traxis Brood warrior reacted positively to seeing his friend. Sharp teeth showed as he smiled and the two embraced in a friendly hug.

  “I am glad to see you are still amongst the living, Kar’libon. I had heard rumors.”

  “Truths, Haddron. The Queen’s flagship was destroyed on a gas planet in the Sol system. Many of my brethren fell in that battle.”

  “And Ju’ T-Leen?”

  “Uncertain.”

  “You would seek revenge as well, my friend?”

  “My own brother banished me. I feel sympathy for my people but am unwelcome among them. I am at odds with Earth solely as your friend.”

  Haddron smiled. “I am glad to hear it. Let us leave this place.”

  “Transport is this way.” Kar’libon led Haddron from the prison.

  * * *

  The smaller spacefaring vessel looked like a Ka’traxis Brood LAV except for the heavy modifications. The guns below the front end of the Light Armored Vehicle boasted the Wartech logo, scratched from wear. LAVs were normally single pilot ships. This one was a two seater. Kar’libon sat in the front while Haddron sat behind him. The newly freed Nordic stared out the window as the ship rose from the surface and turned to fly away from the prison.

  Haddron watched the ugly industrial steel and stone building get smaller the farther away from it they flew.

  “Requesting a dome exit,” Kar’libon spoke into a radio device.

  Haddron faced forward. “You do not worry they will recognize your speech?”

  “Voice modifiers.”

  Haddron leaned back, calm and relaxed that things were left in good hands during his years in prison.

  A seal appeared in the dome and a clear door slid down, creating an exit for the ship to pass through.

  Haddron turned back to watch the door close back up and the seal disappear. He looked at the dome covered prison and marveled at the sight. “It is a crude design but I must admit, effective. A prison on an asteroid orbiting a star. Humanity may be barbaric but it’s that very barbarism that leads to such simple but effective ideas.”

  “You could have escaped from your captors?”

  “Yes, but I would have been stuck in that place.” Haddron shook his head and smiled. “I have learned to give credit where it is due. Regardless of who it is for.”

  The ship sped away from the asteroid as it slowly turned, revealing the prison to the star it orbited.

  “I installed a Slipstream Regulator. We should arrive soon,” Kar’libon said.

  “Did you install the other device?”

  “The connection is at your feet. You never told me what the device does.”

  Haddron reached for the floor where two black metallic strips stuck out then unclipped the little box on his belt. “It would be easier to show you than to explain it, my friend.”

  Haddron connected the box to the strips and pressed the lens. A white glow lit up the back of the cockpit.

  The Catter was nervous. “Haddron?”

  “Let us find better accommodations.” Haddron pressed the lens and the light grew brighter.

  The bottom of the ship glowed and the light enveloped the entire vessel before growing even more brilliant then flashing off.

  In its space was nothing, as if the ship was never there to begin with.

  Two

  If It Ain’t Broke

  The explosion going off in such a sm
all space startled James ‘Albatross’ Irons. He jumped back and covered his head to avoid the sparks that flew out in the corner of the room.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” the medium pitched voice of a man was rapidly apologetic. “I thought it was—”

  Another explosion cut him off.

  “What are you doing with that thing?” Irons asked.

  “I thought if I replaced the processor with a more powerful—”

  One last pop went off before a sizzling sound followed by a thin wisp of smoke floating up to the ceiling.

  “Um,” the man said, his voice shaky. “Captain? This wasn’t a Wartech design was it?”

  “Earth Fleet. Why?”

  A tall, thin young man turned around. He wore a white lab coat and had thin framed glasses on. The name badge on his coat read [Lenard Basque]. In his hand he held Irons’s Cyber Eye. “I probably should have asked before.”

  “Asked what, Doc?”

  “Wartech uses all proprietary hardware and software. I thought I might be able to get around that but I seem to have made the damage worse.”

  “You wanna run that by me again?” Irons snarled.

  “Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Lenard gave a goofy looking smile.

  Irons only growled. The Wartech engineer’s attempts at levity were admirable though ineffective. Brilliance in technology and mechanics may have been his forte but Lenard’s skill at humor still had a long way to go.

  “Right,” Lenard continued. “The good news is, the laser and various scans still don’t work. The intensity of that last blast completely destroyed those systems. But nothing else is broken—well, except what I tried to fix—but nothing else.” He looked at Irons who only seethed. Lenard’s expression instantly turned to regret. “But since it’s a biology—a wetware issue— the optical system still works. Just none of the overlays.”

  “So I still got twenty-twenty?”

  “Right. You can still see out of it. Well, as long as you don’t have the eye patch on.” Lenard chuckled.

  “So what’s the bad news?”