The Dragon Writers Collection Read online




  Table of Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  CYSTIC FIBROSIS

  T-REX STUDIOS

  TOM BIELAWSKI

  THE CENTAURUS LEGACY, A HECK THOMAS THRILLER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A TIDE OF SHADOWS, LLARS VOL I

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  STORMSON, CHRONICLE OF STORMS I

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  BRIAN RATHBONE

  WAYWARD SPIRITS

  PRELUDE TO THE DAWNING OF POWER

  CALL OF THE HEARALD, THE DAWNING OF POWER I

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  INHERITED DANGER, BOOK TWO DAWNING OF POWER

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  MR MATHIAS

  KING OF FOOLS

  MORGEN RICH

  ENTRAPMENTS, STAVES OF WARRANT BOOK ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  SEEKING, STAVES OF WARRANT BOOK TWO

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SCOTT BAUGHMAN

  RULE OF THUMB, BALANCE OF POWER BOOK ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Dragon Writers Collection

  a Bundle of Science Fiction and Fantasy

  by the members of

  The Dragon Writer’s Collective

  Featuring:

  Tom Bielawski, Brian Rathbone, M. R. Mathias,

  Scott Baughman, Morgen Rich, T-Rex

  The Centaurus Legacy: A Heck Thomas Thriller

  By Tom Bielawski

  A Tide of Shadows: The Chronicles of Llars Volume I

  By Tom Bielawski

  Stormson: A Chronicle of Storms Volume I, an excerpt

  by Tom Bielawski

  Wayward Spirits: A Prelude to The Dawning of Power

  By Brian Rathbone

  Call of the Herald: Book One of The Dawning of Power

  By Brian Rathbone

  Inherited Danger: Book Two of The Dawning of Power

  By Brian Rathbone

  King of Fools

  By MR Mathias

  Incorrigible: Secrets Past & Present - Part One / Entrapments (The Staves of Warrant)

  By Morgen Rich

  Incorrigible: Secrets Past & Present - Part Two / Seeking (The Staves of Warrant)

  By Morgen Rich

  Rule of Thumb (Balance of Power Book 1)

  By Scott Baughman

  Copyright 2014, the Dragon Writers Collective

  all righs reserved

  http://www.thedragonwriterscollective.com

  cover art by T-Rex Studios

  A word about Cystic Fibrosis (CF):

  My name is Tom Bielawski. I am a CF Dad, and someone I love needs a cure.

  CF is a genetic, inherited, disease that affects the lungs and digestive systems of about 30,000 children and adults in the United States, and 70,000 worldwide. A defective gene and its protein product cause the body to produce unusually thick and sticky mucus that clogs the lungs and leads to life-threatening lung infections, and obstructs the pancreas and stops the natural enzymes from helping the body break down and absorb food.

  This disease used to be a death sentence. Now, more and more people with CF are living into their 30's, 40's and beyond. And that is thanks in large part to organizations like Cystic Fibrosis Foundation (CFF) and others who have supported and driven the research community with awesome fundraisers, studies, and media attention.

  Please support CFF.org, Cystic Life (cysticlife.org), Boomer Esiason Foundation (esiason.org), or any other great organization that is helping to fight this terrible disease.

  Thank you.

  T-Rex Studios

  Contact Jack Hoyle:

  Facebook Twitter

  About Tom Bielawski

  I’m a veteran of the United States Marine Corps, and I served “In every clime and place.” After departing active duty I became a lawman. I’ve been deputy sheriff, a county police officer, and a special agent. I served in Afghanistan for two years as a police mentor to the US Army and the Afghan National Police, ISU.

  I am also a husband, a father of two, and a CF dad. I love the outdoors. When I'm not spending time with my family I'm usually out on a lake, or knee deep in a creek, fishing.

  I am also a graduate the online workshop of NY Times Best Selling Author, Tracy Hickman, known as Scribe’s Forge. As Tracy was in large part responsible for inspiring me to write, this was an amazing experience. I highly recommend Scribe’s Forge for aspiring writers, and I recommend anything written by Tracy and Laura Hickman for avid fantasy readers like me.

  The Chronicles of Llars

  I A Tide of Shadows ~ II The Black Keep ~ III Shadowblade ~ IV The Tomb of the Dark Paladin

  The Chronicles of Heck Thomas

  The Centaurus Legacy ~ The Orion Deception

  My upcoming projects include new epic fantasy,

  modern adventure fiction, and historical fiction.

  Please contact me at my website: www.tombielawski.com, www.facebook.com/thechroniclesofllars, or www.twitter.com/TomBielawski

/>   www.DragonWritersCollective.com

  Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me -Psalm 23:4.

  The Centaurus Legacy

  Copyright 2011 by Tom Bielawski

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art created and copyrighted by Ronnel D. Porter www.wix.com/ronnelldporter/design

  CHAPTER ONE

  Marshal Henrick Thomas and his partner Deputy Marshal Stephen W. Doolin strapped into their chairs aboard their ship, which they affectionately called Sixkiller, one of the Old West’s most feared lawmen.

  “Nav and weapons systems active, Heck.”

  “Thanks, Dooly. Pilot controls active.”

  The pair patiently waited as Sixkiller was gently swiveled 180 degrees in their slip aboard the Moon’s Roosevelt Orbital Station, also called ROS. Rotation complete, Sixkiller now faced the end of the runway; a long tunnel that led to open space. Stars glimmered into view and the men prepared for what would be the worst three seconds of their flight.

  “Hang on…”

  Heck grunted at the needless comment, he always hated this part. A series of delicate chimes counted down to the dreaded launch procedure. Five, four, three, two, one.

  Sixkiller jolted forward, pinning the men into their seats as it hurtled down the tunnel toward the stars beyond. Each man grimaced as the incredible g-force pinned them to their seats before finally escaping ROS’s artificial gravity and shooting out into open space.

  “Damn!”

  “I know. Every, damn, time,” groaned Heck. “I swear it’s like being hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer.”

  The two shook off the pain and disorientation and focused on the task at hand. Heck peered down at the Moon below, its bright green forests and blue seas visible through a blanket of clouds. Freecity, the largest city in New Florida Protectorate, was abuzz with life. Terraforming and artificial gravity plating were a huge business and the Inner System proved to be a very successful testing ground. The Moon and Mars were so successful that terraformers had used their knowledge and devised a way to blast Venus’ cloud cover into space, allowing it to cool to more hospitable temperatures. That was still a work in progress, however.

  “What’s happening, Dooly?” he asked with a sigh.

  “First National Bank of Moon Colony in the protectorate of New Florida was just knocked over.”

  “Police reports?” Heck nimbly rolled Sixkiller as a wayward tour bus wandered off its approved flight path, and cursed under his breath.

  “New Florida Police are reporting the Ryevolutzia is responsible. Eye witnesses saw Ryevolutzia cruisers with the old Soviet hammer and sickle emblem fleeing the scene.”

  “That’s a big gang. Who did the job this time?”

  “Yulia Kharkov.”

  Heck grunted in response. Nothing more needed to be said about her. She was the most notorious, and most wanted, felon in the Ukrainian Mafia, which numbered nearly one thousand.

  “What about the Bureau?” Heck asked, anticipating a turf war.

  “The usual. Commonwealth Bureau of Investigation waited for the local police to gather all the evidence, security records, and witness statements before swooping in to take over the case.”

  Heck grunted again. Both he and his partner had been local police for years before being deputized by Heck Thomas into the Commonwealth Marshals Service. The CBI, or the Bureau, was the main law enforcement arm of the Commonwealth and was well known for stealing good cases from local and national police in order to take credit for captures and lobby for funding. Not to mention seizing valuable assets from the criminals that would be better served in the hands of local law enforcement. It was a long tradition that went back to the days of the old FBI.

  “Some things never change.”

  “True. But that ain’t our problem anymore,” Dooly replied with a smile. “We got us a warrant!”

  Heck had a gleam in his eye. Whatever the CBI or local police chose to do with this case mattered little to him now. As long as there was an arrest warrant for Yulia, they could bypass the CBI and go after her themselves.

  “Dooly, do a full three dimensional point-recognition scan on the suspect imagery and compare it to our known imagery database; I want to be sure.”

  “Right.”

  When the Commonwealth was formed, the law enforcement community lobbied for the reinstatement of the use of point-recognition along with DNA, finger print and voice and eye scans; all to catalogue every prisoner who was arrested. These were widely used in the days before space colonization, but fell into disuse with no central authority to control and catalogue the data. But fifty years into the Commonwealth’s existence, there was still plenty of data to identify suspects with.

  Face-point recognition was a great tool and hard to beat. When a prisoner was arrested, a three-dimensional scan of the entire body would be taken. The scan assigned a grid system which mapped every micrometer of a person’s body, cataloging every unique and distinguishing feature. These three dimensional point recognition scans (3DPR) catalogued a suspect’s microscopic identifying features across their entire bodies, enabling law enforcement to positively identify a suspect.

  “Yulia. Dead to rights.”

  “Excellent. Please send our regards to Moon Police Service for putting that warrant in so quickly.”

  “You got it. What’s even better is that the warrant was issued under Moon Police Service authority; no mention of CBI jurisdiction at all!”

  Heck laughed. “Meaning that the CBI can investigate whatever they want, Moon Police Service will get the spoils no matter what.”

  “Just got a message in from Moon Police Service Headquarters,” called Dooly, his holocomputer dancing with lights and dinging chimes. “They have a vector on Kharkov’s ship. Detective Espinosa wants to link up and join us in the chase.”

  “Fine with me. Moon Police Orbital Station?”

  “Yep.”

  “Ok. But I don’t want to waste any time docking and launching from there. I’m sure Kharkov is heading for the Asteroid Belt. Tell Espinoza we will meet twenty clicks out from the station. We can lock on to the MPS cruiser’s sally port, load up, and go from there.”

  “Roger.”

  CBI Special Agent In Charge Gem Revelier stood outside the office of City Hall, Freecity, New Florida Protectorate. The weather was hot and humid, very much like Florida on Earth. He was sweating in his business suit; and that was one thing Special Agent In Charge Gem Revelier detested. He stalked down the steps from City Hall to his waiting surface cruiser, sleek and black with tinted windows and an impressive array of blue lights behind the windshield. A detachment of special agents from CBI stood protectively around the cruiser, short-barreled automatic weapons in hand.

  “I’m sorry, sir. They beat us to it,” offered Special Agent David Hall, miserably. Revelier glared at his subordinate as they reached the surface cruiser, waiting for Hall to open the door for him. Hall did as expected and Revelier slid into the back seat of his air-conditioned cruiser, where he loosened his tie and poured himself a glass of brandy. Hall climbed into the front passenger seat and the cruiser slid smoothly into drive, hovering as it moved forward along the Freecity Highway.

  “We have five open cases on Yulia’s crew, Hall. Five! How the hell did they get that warrant before the Commonwealth Judge without us knowing?” he demanded. Hall studiously avoided answering the question and concentrated on the route, nervously wiping sweat from his brow. Hall knew exactly how it happened but he wasn’t about to add to his boss’ ire by telling him.

  “When I find out who the scumbag was that let this slip by, I’ll have him working as a bilge-rat on Commonwealth Fleet cruisers in the Outer System!”

  “Yes, sir,” Hall agreed meekly. Hall was deathly afraid of Revelier, and with good reason. The man was a brutal tyrant and more than one person who displeased him found themselves dead, or so far from civilization they’d wished they were dead. Revelier ha
led from Old France, on Earth, and had very high connections in the Commonwealth government. He was short, nasty, mean and many people thought he looked like Napoleon; he certainly acted like him. Neither the Director nor ministers of Parliament would mess with Revelier, and the Director knew Revelier was looking for a promotion.

  “Get me the Chief of Police!” shouted Revelier. “I’m gonna chew his ass.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hall sighed. The Chief of Moon Police Service was a shrewd man and a great cop. He’d taken in many of the Inner System’s most wanted in his younger years as a Commonwealth Marshal. He was smart too, smarter than Revelier. Chief Reginald Chin would never consent to an ass-chewing by the Bureau, and would very quickly put Revelier in his place. Which only meant that this holographic call would leave Revelier even more pissed off than before.

  This is going to be a very long day, thought Hall as he punched in the code to begin holographic call.

  Sixkiller slid smoothly alongside the cruiser belonging to Detective Espinosa, Moon Police Service. The cruiser was smaller than his own Marshals Service Cruiser, having enough room for a crew of three and a small cell that could accommodate two prisoners. Sixkiller could operate at full capacity with a crew of five Marshals. It had heavier weapons and hull armor, a small sleeping and living space for the crew, and a cell that could accommodate five prisoners. It was made for long range missions.

  Moon Police Service cruisers were maneuverable and very fast but rarely traveled beyond Roosevelt Orbital Station. They were armed with missiles, harpoons, a pair of automatic weapons, and the Phalanx, which was a newly invented defensive weapon outfitted on all Commonwealth spacecraft. Its purpose was to create a protective shell of plasma energy around the cruiser in the event of overwhelming enemy fire. It could annihilate almost any projectile weapon and the plasma field was strong enough to dissipate most laser cannon fire. Small probes, which could extend from the cruiser’s hull on command, would pass the plasma energy to each other along the entire length of the craft creating a grid-like field around it. But the system was very costly in its consumption of fuel cells and could only sustain itself in short bursts; a last ditch, Hail Mary weapon, if there ever was one.