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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

He looked around. Nothing but the forty or so civilians—apparent civilians—on the hillside. No resistance, no fire…nothing. Still, he decided he’d be happier when he had his other two centuries on the planet. He had no intel, no idea what size force the Confeds had. It was nothing but a guessing game. And Millius hated guessing.

His eyes fixed on Tinnius’s troops, moving behind the disorganized mass, shouting, directing them into a rough line. The civilians—prisoners now—seemed to be obeying.

Perhaps they are just sheep, as the propagandists would have us believe. No Alliance civilians would surrender without a shot fired, march willingly into captivity…

But something still nagged at him, a worry he couldn’t quite zero in on. The ragged band yielding so meekly to his troopers didn’t seem like the type who would burn their homes, condemn themselves to living outside, enduring the freezing cold just to deny shelter to an enemy. That was an act worthy of Alliance Citizens.

He would find out. These prisoners didn’t look like the kind of men and women who would resist questioning for long…and when he had gotten everything out of them he could, he knew what he would have to do. He’d had his doubts, but watching them march up with their hands in the air had sickened him. They were weak, and the Alliance had no use for weakness, no respect for those who lacked the courage to fight for themselves.

Disposing of this lot would be like taking out the trash…

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

CFS Dauntless

Wheel Nebula

Two Transits from Archellia

307 AC

Tyler sat on Dauntless’s bridge, staring into the 3D display as though if he gazed intently enough, all the answers he sought would appear in the flickering holographic light. It had been a week since he and his people had left Archellia after what had turned into a crazed race to get his ship ready for action.

Dauntless had already been in spacedock when the alert came, and the crews had to hastily reassemble every system that had been torn open for refurbishment. Then the battleship had to be fully re-equipped and re-provisioned. Food, water, medical supplies, reaction mass…and weapons. Dauntless was heading out to investigate a distress call…and that meant all the ordnance—laser cores, plasma torpedoes, missiles, fusion mines, fighter payloads—that had been painstakingly removed to allow for the refit had to be reloaded.

Somehow, it had all gotten done, and forty-two hours after Barron had gotten the first alert, his ship was blasting out toward the transwarp link. After almost a year patrolling the threatened border, Dauntless was on her way toward the far frontier, the last place anyone had expected trouble.