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Chapters (44)
  1. The Crimson Worlds Series
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  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty
  43. Chapter Forty-One
  44. Epilogue

Warren had been surprised at first. He knew of the Alliance, of course, but they were far away, beyond the Unaligned Systems. And they were small, a growing power, no doubt, but not one that had registered on the Confederation’s list of plausible threats. Not until now. With everything mobilized against the Union, any other threat was deadly serious.

His head snapped around, looking toward the street. He thought he heard footsteps. It was late, well past curfew, and that meant anyone out there was trouble. He froze, listening carefully, but there was nothing but silence.

He felt a tiny wave of relief, and he took a deep breath. Then he heard it again. There was no doubt. Someone was out there.

He looked down the alley. It was dark, just a single light hanging from the side of one of the buildings. He couldn’t see the end. Did it offer an escape route? Or was it a dead end?

He heard the sound again, closer this time. There was no choice. He had to take his chances.

He stood up, slowly, quietly, and he took one last look toward the street. He was about to turn around when he saw movement—someone was coming around the corner.

The time for caution was over. He lunged forward, running down the alley, leaping over piles of garbage, broken crates. He passed by the light, and as he moved forward it got darker. He stared intently ahead as he ran, doing his best to avoid obstacles, but it was too dark now. He caught his foot on something, a broken piece of a chair, he thought. He tumbled to the ground, putting his arms out in front of him and feeling the pain shoot up to his shoulders as he landed hard on the pavement.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, as he struggled to get up. He had to run, it was his only chance.

No, you have no chance…

He could hear the sounds behind him now. Footsteps, more than one pair.

He reached inside his jacket as he stumbled forward, ignoring the pain that wracked his entire body. His hand closed around the cool plastic of the gun, pulling it out. It was a pistol, short ranged, underpowered. Its primary utility was its ability to foil detection devices.

He thought about the firefight that was coming, and he knew immediately it was hopeless. There were at least half a dozen agents on his tail, and it was a dead level certainty they were armed better than him. If he fought, he might be wounded, and captured. And he knew what that meant.

Level Zero…