The Chronicles of Kin Roland: 3 Book Omnibus - The Complete Series Read online

  “Do you know the penalty for sabotaging the only marker that would have helped us find this town?” Raker asked. “Many lives could have been lost, had we landed elsewhere.”

  Kin waited a moment and said, “Whoever doused the lighthouse should be shot.”

  “I am glad we understand each other.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  KIN stood at parade rest. Captain Raien walked around him, studying his body as her company of Fleet troopers waited at attention behind her. She placed the palm of her hand on his chest. Outwardly, the touch wasn’t intimate or wanton, but lingered for a moment as she studied the muscle beneath her hand before inventorying the rest of his body with her eyes.

  Instead of the gesture of a comrade, the hot hand became a none-too-subtle signal of intent. Captain Raien acted like one of the men, but she was a woman with her own needs. She reminded Kin of Laura; self-assured, unashamed of her sexuality, and not likely to be denied. He hadn’t expected the sudden appearance of the Fleet Planetary Assault Force to provide him a new sexual partner, but he wasn’t going to say no.

  “You can put your shirt on.”

  Kin winced as he pulled his shirt over his head. He anticipated something like this and beat his left arm with a stick, bruising it from elbow to shoulder before his injury could be exposed and examined. A close inspection would reveal the finger marks Orlan’s gauntlets left, but Raien wasn’t interested in his arm.

  She turned to her company. “Full armor. Ten minutes. Sergeant Orlan will not be joining us on this mission, but is expected to recover,” she said.

  “More for us,” one of the men said.

  She scanned the ranks for the owner of the voice, found him, and spoke. “This is a reconnaissance mission into dangerous enemy territory. There is a Reaper out there. We’re not marching into the mountains to rape and loot.” She smiled just before turning away from her men. They smiled and exchanged sly looks. Raien’s men, the 11th Light Reconnaissance Company, dispersed to prepare for the mission.

  “My quarters, Roland. You will suit me up,” she said.

  Two minutes later, she was holding him down and biting her lip, twisting against his upward thrusts, and tossing her hair as though it was long enough to toss.

  She wasn’t completely flat chested, but it was a near thing. Her well-defined abdominal muscles clenched, relaxed, turned, and twisted as she moved. Her sculpted shoulders pulled back, thrusting her chest forward as she rode him. Her hips and thighs, muscular and rounder than a man’s, gripped him firmly. Kin never closed his eyes. He memorized her body, admiring her feminine grace diminished only by the winged skull tattoo in the center of her breastbone.

  “Oh, God, I love a stranger,” she said, grabbing his chest, squeezing, and then pushing down forcefully. A moment later, she patted his face and stood.

  Kin massaged his neck and watched her. She saw that he hadn’t gotten up, snapped her fingers twice, and beckoned him impatiently — using only her fingers like one might summon a dog. He smiled, rocked onto his feet, and crossed the room.

  Raien dressed quickly. Her jumpsuit was faded and patched. She looked at his naked body. “You don’t have scars.”

  “This is when you notice?”

  She made a dismissive sound, neither a grunt nor a laugh. “You seem like you should have scars. Your arm is beat to hell. You walk like a fighter. I wondered after seeing your bare chest, but Fleet armor is strongest around the torso. I’d have thought you’d have scars.”

  “I have scars.”

  “You know what I mean. Battle scars, not accidental scars. Not scars from the occasional fight.”

  Kin secured her armor expertly. Planetary assault armor was extremely tough, but each piece needed to be fastened and adjusted in a precise manner to form one cohesive whole. When done properly, few organic creatures could penetrate the metal and ceramic exoskeleton. An improperly sealed suit could leave hydraulic tubes and circuitry vulnerable. Reapers were one of the five known alien races that could kill a Fleet trooper in assault armor, but it wasn’t easy for them.

  “You’ve done this before,” she said. She watched him approvingly.

  “A couple of times,” Kin said. “What would it take for me to draw armor from the quartermaster?”

  Raien narrowed her eyes and smiled. Her face was still flush from their tryst. She leaned down and kissed him on the lips. Having the pilot of a three-hundred-pound war machine explore his mouth with her tongue was a strange sensation. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he couldn’t push her away.

  “I’ll protect you, sweet.”

  “No doubt.” Kin held her gaze as she tapped the button to expand the helmet from the shoulder assembly, sealing her from the environment. “I know there are replacement suits, and suits the original owners no longer need.”

  “I’ll check with the quartermaster when we return,” Raien said. Her voice was less feminine, amplified by the helmet. He couldn’t see her eyes. The flash-romance disappeared.

  He dragged his shirt over his head, fastened his gun belt with its drop holster over the belt that held up his pants, and followed her out the door. In her battle armor, Raien was just a few inches taller than him, but weighed half again as much. She strode into the square and brusquely inspected the company of assault troopers without another glance at Kin.

  He watched her, bracing for the dark emotion about to punch him in the gut. After nights spent with Laura, he went onto her deck and stared into the night to think. Kin had never been a stranger to women and the pleasures they offered. He had been somewhat chaste when stationed on the same planet as his beloved Becca, his childhood friend and adolescent infatuation. But like any soldier, he didn’t want to face death with regrets and missed opportunities.

  He couldn’t believe Becca could love him as intensely as he loved her. The scene on Earth VI revealed the truth. She only cared for him like a brother or a trusted friend — a convenient confidant when pain and loss became too much. He was a killer, a traitor, contaminated by Hellsbreach and Reapers. Becca deserved better.

  Captain Raien gave orders to her lieutenants and sergeants. Captain Zelig had given her the 11th Light Reconnaissance Company, which consisted of three full platoons and the remnants of a platoon seriously depleted during the landing. The twelve men of this fourth, much battered platoon were little more than Raien’s bodyguards.

  During the assembly, Kin noticed Raien’s bodyguards were young, pretty, and athletic men. Two were tough sergeants in armor that had seen more than a few campaigns. Some soldiers were like that, cherishing their armor and upgrading it rather than replacing it.

  The lieutenant of the fourth platoon wore Excalibur Battle Armor, the absolute best brand — too expensive to be provided by the Fleet. Kin couldn’t see the man’s face, but assumed he was the son of a general or wealthy politician. He guessed the man inside the EBA was stunningly handsome and Raien’s primary lover. Kin would keep clear of him.

  “Do you have a vehicle?” Raien asked.

  “No. I can keep up.”

  Assault armor not only protected soldiers and made them stronger, but made them faster as well. He’d be running all day, which would be a challenge. Normally, he moved at his own pace. He wasn’t conditioned for a forced march. He was slightly too muscular to be a gifted cross-country runner, but he would manage. If he became tired, he’d tell Raien of a danger area ahead and slow the pace. Kin always had a plan. His imagination and foresight had kept him and most of his men alive on Hellsbreach.

  Until the final campaign. Kin forced back the memory.

  The company left the town as Fleet engineers built fortifications and repaired vehicles damaged from the landing. The battleship made landfall more or less intact. The vessel couldn’t launch without an enormous amount of fuel, and from its current location near the wreckage of the Goliath, liftoff would incinerate Crater Town.

  Kin wondered whether Laura had considered that fact. She needed to secure passage for everyone, or t
hey would be abandoned with nothing left to sustain them. Fuel resources could be gathered and refined to power the Fleet ships. Kin suspected it would be top priority for Commander Westwood.

  Kin ran beside Captain Raien and her escorts until they approached the mountain pass. He suggested a halt. Raien ordered the company’s platoons into a defensive perimeter that spanned a half-mile circle.

  “We can reach the crash site by nightfall, but it would be better to encamp and move in during daylight. Reapers love the dark,” Kin said.

  “Of course. Are there other settlements in the mountains?” Raien asked.

  Kin wanted to lie. She concealed greed well, but Kin understood officers augmented their pay with plunder and loot, which also motivated enlisted soldiers who barely received any pay at all beyond food, shelter, and equipment.

  “Goat herders and trappers. A few families weaving rugs and tapestries. Nothing of interest.”

  “What about the land itself? Are there mineral deposits? Fuel reserves?” she asked.

  Kin studied the mountains and delayed. He thought of Gold Village. The men and women fished from Angry Blue, the river that gathered streams into a torrent leading to the sea. They also panned for gold with great success. The villagers had little need for gold, but gathered it as a recreational pastime, melting the gold dust into decorations for fence posts, doorways, and children’s toys.

  He thought of Maiden’s Keep, a system of caves that had become a sort of convent where women from Crater Town and other villages often went for a few years of solitude before starting a family. No men lived at Maiden’s Keep, just three large wolf hounds trained to bark and snarl at strangers. He didn’t believe Raien’s men were the type to rape and kill, but the possibility existed. All crimes committed on the uncharted planet of Crashdown would be conveniently forgotten when the expeditionary force returned to space.

  “Don’t hold out on me, Roland. You want that suit, right?”

  Kin gathered his thoughts before speaking in a subdued voice. He didn’t want Raien’s men to hear him, but there was no true privacy here. Assault armor provided exceptional hearing. Kin knew the men were hoping he’d lead them to riches.

  “Crashdown is a brutal, dangerous planet. Few people have been able to survive far from Crater Town. Beyond the town’s influence, there are storms, geological incidents, and creatures that don’t breathe the same air we do. Your armor will protect you from the noxious clouds that leak from caves and fissures in the rock, but we’re limited in how far we can range to gather resources. The mountain villagers live one day away from death.”

  “I’m not a monster,” Raien said.

  Kin was almost disappointed she didn’t ask why Crater Town was so important, but was relieved she didn’t inquire further. He didn’t want to talk about Clavender or the power she had to tame the spirit of the planet.

  “Of course,” Kin said, “there are a few settlements, fuel reserves, and mineral deposits your engineers can easily exploit.”

  “Then lead the way,” Raien said. “Perhaps we can offer these poor people some assistance.”

  Kin stepped away from her, massaging his neck. He checked his weapons and trotted into the pass. Normally, when he carried his sword, he wore it on his belt but decided to sling it over his backpack next to his axe to better facilitate running. An hour after he led them into the pass and warned them of several narrow defiles where bandits had tried to ambush him in the past, Raien called a halt.

  “Show me your maps,” she said.

  He shrugged off his backpack, setting it on the ground to sort through his supplies. Raien laughed when she saw his compass. She probably knew it didn’t work on this planet. He produced two maps and pointed out the probable location of the crash site.

  “This here, is it a village?” she asked.

  Kin kept his face impassive.

  “Well?”

  “Yes.”

  “I would think you would have mentioned a place called Gold Village,” she said.

  “They pan for gold and make trinkets. The people of that village rarely come to Crater Town because they fish from the river and make their own clothing from animal hides and wool.” His attempt to dampen her enthusiasm failed completely.

  “And this?” She pointed at Maiden’s Keep.

  “Maiden’s Keep is merely a system of caves where women go to meditate by a waterfall.” Several of Raien’s troopers looked away from their security assignments and toward Kin.

  “We shall reconnoiter both locations. Relax, Roland. I control my men. There will be no violating of maidens.” Raien gave orders and the troopers moved out.

  Kin followed, fantasizing about fighting troopers in full assault armor, knowing the dream was impossible and hoping Raien would keep her promise. He doubted Gold Village would have much gold left when the day was done and prayed these men would respect the sanctity of Maiden’s Keep. There were women in the Fleet. These soldiers couldn’t be completely sex starved. They weren’t rampaging through an enemy city after the thrill and danger of conquest.

  Kin enforced strict discipline when he served the Fleet and led troopers into battle on several planets before the Hellsbreach Campaign. He executed only one of his men for rape in all those years, but the memory remained vivid.

  He stayed with the 11th LRC until they came upon Gold Village and witnessed an orderly meeting with the village elders at the footbridge that crossed the river. Raien seemed to have control of her men. They examined the gold railings of the bridge before crossing in small groups, too heavy to storm across all at once.

  Kin left them to their exploration and went in search of the crash site. He climbed to the top of a cliff and looked down on the village. Some men and women complained and argued as gold decorations were torn from doorways, fence posts, and the bridge. Most stood aside and watched wordlessly.

  Sarah, a sixteen-year-old girl who reminded him of Becca, looked up. He couldn’t read her expression from so far away. He had visited her many times and walked with her along the river but never touched her. He cared for her. On occasion, he could look at her without mourning his separation from Becca, but that was rare, and even then, he made comparisons with his first love. It was the same with Laura. It was the same with every woman he met, no matter how beautiful, no matter how genuine.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  KIN moved carefully away from the cliff and into the forest. Predators stalked the mountains, eager to attack a lone traveler. Crashdown wolves, larger and more sentient than the descendants of Earth, sometimes attacked settlements, and more disturbingly, took prisoners.

  He had encountered dogs gone feral from shipwrecks, wild boars, and the occasional mad man devoid of humanity. Legends told of bears wearing necklaces of bones and speaking a simple language, walking upright more often than not, and growling at the wormhole. Snakes, rodents, birds, and insects reminded him that Crashdown was similar to Earth, but would never be rated an Earth Class planet. Beyond the range of Clavender’s influence, sinister creatures roamed without fear of mankind.

  Crashdown, with its yellow sun and infestation of Earth-like flora and fauna, lured many people into the wilderness. Most were never seen again. Homesickness could be deadly, especially when the similarities to Earth were a lie.

  Kin had found dead travelers in the mountain pass who had probably been on their way to Crater Town from wherever their ship crashed. But others had been exploring or had adopted a nomadic life style, always on the run from predators and searching for resources, realizing too late that certain flowers ate your face.

  The strongest of these wanderers formed gangs of raiders. They came to Crater Town to steal food, tools, and people. Anyone and anything that survived outside Clavender’s world-calming influence was strong, ruthless, and cunning. Kin watched for them, although he had sent a message to the last band by sneaking into their camp and stealing their leader as they slept. Two days later, he sent the man back, unharmed, but convinced any attack on C
rater Town was suicidal.

  Kin stopped frequently to listen and look. He backtracked and set up ambushes for anyone or anything that might have followed him. Twice he circled, hoping to come behind anyone who might have followed him undetected. He expected Captain Raien’s men, but they were apparently still occupied with Gold Village. It would only take one of them to recognize him and convince his buddies they could get rich from the bounty.

  And there was a Reaper on the loose.

  After several hours, he found the unidentified ship that came through the wormhole in the Fleet’s wake.

  The small craft had landed on the side of a steep ravine, hanging from the shattered remains of trees barely clinging to the rocky soil. He saw a scrap of metal in the stream below and blood on the rocks.

  Kin, moving slowly, flattened himself against the ground and listened. An untrained man would have dropped to the ground in a rush, allowing the sudden movement to be visible from a distance. He softened his movements, keeping his eyes and ears open.

  Less than an hour later, the Reaper burst from the water and sucked in air. Kin checked his pistol and watched. Reapers hated water, but he had seen this tactic before. Sooner or later, everyone had to drink. Reapers could hold their breath for a long time and loved to ambush prey.

  Kin remained motionless as he watched the Reaper. It looked in his direction several times but didn’t see him.

  He couldn’t judge the Reaper’s height. The creature slouched like an ape but moved with feline grace. Although humanoid and bipedal, it could run on all four limbs. He had seen them charge like jaguars during the Hellsbreach campaign. The sight made tough soldiers shit their pants. He hated the look of their grotesque rolling muscles because there were too many. A Reaper’s leg could bend both directions, as Kin had learned after kicking one in the knee, expecting a disabling injury, but nearly getting his head bitten off when the monster didn’t go down.

  They were demons who wanted to be men but hadn’t followed the assembly instructions.