Light of the Reaper: A military Scifi Epic (The Last Reaper Book 13) Read online

  Copyrighted Material

  Light of the Reaper Copyright © 2022 by Variant Publications

  Book design and layout copyright © 2022 by JN Chaney

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney.

  www.jnchaney.com

  http://www.scottmoonwriter.com

  1st Edition

  CONTENTS

  Don’t Miss Out

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Important Terms and Characters

  Join the Conversation

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  About the Authors

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  1

  Too much was happening too quickly. I cut power to my welding torch, then raised the visor of my crude safety helmet. My Sethorn hard skin offered a lot of protection, but I hadn’t learned to adjust the opacity. Old school protective gear never went out of style.

  My repairs were ugly but functional. Everyone was a mechanic today, just as Tom had promised. The Jellybird was barely holding together. We needed her ready to haul ass and fight if caught, but here we were, limping through the void like we’d just had our asses kicked.

  Which we kind of did.

  Scheid’s forces were still out there, and the Darkness swarm pursued us relentlessly. Elise’s Maglan fleet fought for survival. Jelly’s last report was that they were holding together, resisting the need to flee in all directions.

  So many loose ends.

  Tank, my oversized clone I’d almost come to trust, had either betrayed me to Ion Dawn and the Oroth Council, or was their prisoner—which probably meant endless torture for my big… what… brother?

  The guy deserved some empathy. How long would I last without a decent cigar? He had to be in hell. Or living it up if he was a backstabbing pile of void scum.

  Sethorn was getting ravaged by civil war and another arm of the Darkness swarm. Naaman and Decima had barely spoken to me since I chose to help Elise instead of their people.

  James Henshaw was missing in action again—classic behavior for the self-absorbed genius. If my double Reaper arms had problems, who was going to fix them?

  An alert chimed in my ear.

  “Reaper, it’s me,” Elise said. “X-37 patched me into your comms.”

  I leaned against the wall. Suddenly, I was exhausted all the way down to my bones. “Elise, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  Her image appeared in my HUD. “X-37 is on top of comms today. Can’t believe the strength of this connection. You look rough, Reaper. And don’t tell me that it’s only Jelly’s security cameras.”

  “Been a long day,” I said. “Thanks for sending the Archangels, and for ambushing the Obsidian ships.”

  “I waited a long time to do that. You can’t understand what a giant prick Scheid is, but let’s table that for another discussion. We don’t have much time. Let’s talk strategy,” she said.

  “I came looking for you and the secret of Camis Shae. Naaman told me it’s the key to defeating the Darkness.” I wanted to say so much more. Dozens of questions begged to be answered. I also needed to convince her I was me, and that our bond was stronger than ever. We were linked by circumstances neither of us asked for. Our history hadn’t changed, even if I’d experienced most of it through the memories and LAI data sets of the cyborg who had saved my ass while I was in the cryo-sleep pod. If not for that version of Halek Cain, I’d have been dead or enslaved to Scheid’s mad experiments.

  “Naaman? Is that one of the Sethorn rebels? We’ve been attempting to team up with them for years. How did you earn their trust?” she asked. “Don’t even answer that. You probably pulled the same crap you always do and somehow came out a hero. We’ll catch up on the details later.”

  “You keep saying that,” I said.

  “Those were not her exact words, Reaper Cain.” X-37 displayed the conversation transcript too quickly for me to read.

  “Do you mind if X joins us, Elise?” I wanted the kid to myself, though there wasn’t time for a proper reunion. Needs of the mission—that was the way my brain worked. Teamwork wasn’t optional.

  “I’m always glad to hear from X-37. How is your LAI?” she asked.

  “He’s fantastic. Barely a pain in my ass at all.”

  “Hello, Elise. Thank you for asking. I am well despite being tethered to this rather problematic host,” X-37 said.

  “Good one, X. That made me laugh.” Elise sounded like she was smiling. “Let’s get to it. General Scheid is a bigger problem every time I run into him. When he first arrived, I knew he was from the Union and that he would be trouble. His influence with the Oroth Council and the citizens increases constantly. We must assume he acts with the full force and authority of the United Sovereignty of Oroth despite the Oroth fleet’s hesitation to back him against the Darkness in our last engagement.”

  “Oroth forces really dragged their feet,” I said, remembering the earlier encounter.

  “I doubt that will happen again. Scheid’s Obsidians will assassinate the officers who abandoned him, even when they think they’re safe on their own starships. For now, the Oroth forces have rallied, and he has reasserted his control with an iron fist. My scouts recovered the body of their previous admiral where it was floating in space.”

  “Harsh.” I thought of what I had done to Tempest Cain and gave a mental shrug. Whatever. The man was just one more dumbass getting a dumbass’s reward. “Tell me more.”

  “We located the source of the Darkness and the people using it. Until our latest mission to Camis Shae, my advisors were split into two camps—one convinced that the Darkness is a completely non-human entity we will never understand, and the other positive a human or human-like race is using a dangerous but non-sentient substance for their own purposes. This second theory centers around evidence the Darkness has been portrayed as a mindless killer bent
on eating star systems.”

  “Yeah, so which is it?” I asked. “A fight on this scale reminds me of the Sansein Mother, or even the Celestials we helped Jace Hughes fight before we left Union space for good.”

  Elise hesitated. “This is something new—has to be. We encountered a fleet of humanoid controlled ships covered in the Darkness, a kind of alternate matter with adverse side effects on everything it touches in this galaxy. That implies the operators of the ships were using it for their own purpose—to terrify their enemies.”

  “Good theory, but Naaman thinks the Darkness is already infecting people on Sethorn. The way he talks, the evil turns people into slaves,” I said. “He thinks it has been sweeping across the galaxy for eons.”

  “He’s not wrong, but I think reality lies somewhere in the middle,” she said. “For now, let’s agree this is an enemy we can fight and defeat.”

  “Anything’s possible,” I said. “And you know how I feel about winning.”

  “Don’t be a jerk.” Elise’s image flickered. “Stay alive, Reaper. I’ll contact you with more information.”

  “Not if I contact you first,” I quipped.

  “Very funny, Reaper. I forgot about your lame sense of humor. Gotta go. Take care of yourself.” And with that, her image vanished.

  “Are you sleeping on the job, Hal?” Tom demanded via comms.

  “Talking to Elise. Where do you need me?” I asked.

  “Contact Bug in the cargo bay. You guys really tore that place up. We’re having a hard time closing the fire prevention breach you pushed Tempest Cain through,” Tom said. “I have the trajectory of his body marked for recovery if you’re interested.”

  “I’m not, but it would be good to confirm he’s dead.” The fifty or so D3D rounds I put into his floating body should have done the trick, but who knew? By my old mission standards, this would have been considered status pending by my Reaper Corps handlers back in the day.

  “I have it on our to-do list. For now, I need you welding the Jellybird back together,” Tom said.

  I raised my torch so he could see it via security cameras. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”

  “Great, but the cargo bay needs immediate attention.” Tom talked to someone in the background—something about priorities and fixing the stuff that we needed for life support first.

  “Don’t give me that, Path!” he barked. “You may be able to hold your breath for days, but the rest of us need air. Calm myself? Please.” A pause. “I am calm! Don’t I sound calm?”

  I jogged to the cargo bay, gathering more tools as I went and wincing at the scorch marks and bullet holes where nothing like that should be. When the big stuff was fixed, we’d still have weeks of little jobs to complete.

  “You okay, Tom?” I asked.

  “Sorry. This is just wrong. I spent years fixing Jelly. By myself. Without a space dock and with crap tools most people couldn’t use to put a coffee maker back together. Now look at her.” Tom hadn’t been this upset since I’d known him.

  “Hey, bud, we’re not letting her fall apart. Just take a breath. One problem at a time—that gets things done, right?”

  “Sure, Hal. Wow, just wasn’t myself for a moment. Normally I’m the one calming you down.” Tom let out a long breath.

  I didn’t completely agree but decided to concede the point. Sure I was willful and spirited, but my friend was making it sound like I was some kind of asshole.

  “Are you all right, Reaper Cain? Your cerebral cortex is very active. If you are struggling to assimilate information, I could summarize the data to make it easier,” X-37 said.

  “No way, X. I’m good.” All I needed was my LAI telling me Tom was right.

  “I am here for you, Reaper Cain.” X-37 refreshed the list of repairs we needed to complete.

  “Bug’s already in the cargo bay,” Tom said. “Let me know when you’re done. I’ll keep sending repair tickets to X.”

  “Anything for you, Tom.” The moment I arrived, Bug pointed to a patch job that was still leaking atmosphere. I fell in beside him and welded as fast as I could. Nothing looked pretty, but with valuable atmosphere venting at an alarming rate, speed and durability were all that mattered.

  Naaman, Decima, and the Archangels pitched in. Once we found our rhythm, it was like watching a ballet of soldiers and mechanics rush from crisis to crisis. Jelly played inspirational music and encouraged us once we were able to remove our helmets.

  “Maglan’s Hope has invited us into their fleet. They have supplies, and most importantly, oxygen to replenish what we’ve lost,” Jelly said.

  “That’s good news, Jelly.” I went back to work. Memories of Elise and Dreadmax, Greendale, Roxo III, and so many other places played through my imagination as I sealed rents in the walls, floors, and ceilings.

  Elise arrived in person ten hours later.

  “You didn’t bring bodyguards?” I asked. “Shouldn’t the admiral of the Maglan fleet have protection?”

  “I’m taking most of the Archangels back with me. They are my personal guard. Convincing them to help you took some shouting.”

  “I’m sure you hated raising your voice,” I said.

  “When have I yelled? Not counting the times we were fighting for our lives?” she replied. “That’s not fair, Reaper. Bad for my reputation as a calm, confident leader one step ahead of our enemies.”

  “She has a point, Reaper Cain. Her arguments with you were full of snark and disrespect, but she wasn’t any more prone to tantrums than you are,” X-37 said.

  Elise grinned. “Thanks, X.”

  “He said I’m not prone to tantrums,” I threw in.

  “Actually, Reaper Cain, that is a slight misinterpretation of my statement. You twisted my meaning to reflect positively on your mental stability.”

  “Later, X.” I hugged Elise, lifting her off her feet. She hugged back, surprising me by not complaining about the way I was manhandling her.

  “Godsdamn it’s good to see you, Reaper,” she said when I put her down.

  “You too, kid. And I know you’re not a kid, but I’m feeling nostalgic.” I wanted to jump into a mission. How could we fail with the team back together?

  She grabbed my shoulder. “Me too, Hal. Still can’t believe it’s you, but it has to be you. Does that make sense?”

  “Totally,” I said. The woman was in her thirties now, definitely not the teenager I’d first met on Dreadmax during another life. Her hair was shorter, her eyes harder, but other than that, she hadn’t aged a bit. The Lex-tech experiments were probably responsible for her youthful vitality. I doubted it was clean living and plenty of sleep. She didn’t have my vices—no cigars or whisky for her as far as I knew—but she was clearly just as prone to diving into dangerous situations as I was and only resting when she collapsed.

  “We found you something during a salvage operation,” she said, then handed me a package.

  Hiding my emotions, I opened a small box and found a pink doll. The young woman looked a bit like Elise, but with blonde hair and a head that wobbled crazily. “What exactly is this?”

  She laughed. “One of the Dreadmax survivors gave it to me for good luck. Haven’t you heard of Foxy Stardust?”

  “Yeah, but you’re telling me this toy has traveled across half the galaxy? I don’t really know what to say?” I didn’t, I really didn’t.

  “Say thanks. Keep it for good luck,” Elise said, then slugged me in the shoulder.

  “You need luck more than I do.” I handed it back.

  “No way, Reaper. X, back me up.” She was cheating, and we all knew it.

  “X, don’t you dare take her side.”

  “Reaper Cain, my analysis shows that she is statistically correct to three standard deviations from the mean score. In scientific parlance, that is convincing evidence that you rely on chance more often than she does,” X-37 said.

  “I’d rather have my Archangel armor.” I slipped the bobblehead into a utility pouch. “Whate
ver. I need a recount.”

  Elise threw one arm around me and started walking us to the bridge. “Let’s get Tom, Bug, and Path together so we can talk to Jelly, then I need to head back to my own ship. I’ve got a lot of responsibilities.”

  “Sure, kid. I know you do.” Smiling was easy with all the good feelings bubbling up, but I was honest enough to admit I was disappointed. She was leaving already. When this was over, when the Oroth jerks and the Darkness were handled, I was going to spend more quality time with my friends.

  “You dodged my question.”

  “No I didn’t, Reaper. We’ve got all of your stuff on the Nightmare, but she’s on a mission,” Elise said. “You can have your Archangel rig when she’s back.”

  “I thought Novasdaughter was in command of the Nightmare.” The sound of the woman’s voice on the comms had been distinct. A lot had changed during my ten year nap.

  “New blood captaining the Nightmare. Novasdaughter is my executive officer now,” she said. “Like the Archangels I’m leaving you. Try not to corrupt them.”

  “Like I did you.”

  Her smile took me back to Dreadmax. “Exactly. Don’t teach them bad habits. Give them the good stuff, like when you taught me how to shoot and clear rooms and operate as part of a team.”

  “Sounds like work,” I joked.