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  Iridium Attacks

  WAR OF THE THREE PLANETS (Prequel Novella)

  First Edition

  © 2017 by Justin Bell

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Wolf's Head Publishing, LLC

  www.WolfsHeadPublishing.com

  www.JustinBellAuthor.com

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  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jary Northstar glanced out her side window, smiling in spite of herself. She didn't have much to smile about at this point, just two weeks removed from what she thought was the happiest day of her life, but looking at the upper levels of the tall buildings of Adroxis, she couldn't help it.

  The capital city of Athelon was a bustling metropolis even then, almost twenty years ago, with thick, boxy buildings, broad foundations reaching high up towards the city's sprawling blue sky. Jary's driver navigated the upper turnpike, a flight path reserved for the anti-grav vehicles of the upper echelon of Adroxis citizens. Those special people who belonged to those special unions and believed they were somehow working more and harder than anyone else.

  Athelon in general was a planet built on manual labor. From the time its civilians began walking they were doing jobs, in many cases jobs passed down from their parents, which were passed down from their parents. It was a life of few surprises and monotonous consistency, but nobody knew of anything else and by and they mostly accepted it. Most of the population had homes to live in, jobs to put food on their table and an engaged social community. What was there to complain about?

  Jary thought those same words as the car banked left towards the skyscraper that served as her new home. Her and Redax's new home.

  Redax.

  She'd fallen so hard for him and considered herself fortunate when he reciprocated. Redax Northstar was from good stock her parents had told her. The son of a majority owner of a local factory and in line to serve with the Adroxis Union, Redax had his privileged future decided while he was still in the incubation chamber.

  Jary on the other hand was born to manual laborers, a pair of hard working, but low income factory sweatshop assemblers who relished their place in Athelon hierarchy, but knew they lived only to serve. They were okay with that. Jary had qualms.

  She crossed her four arms across her chest and leaned back against the seat. Every Athelonian had those four appendages predisposed with extra hands in order to do extra work. This enhanced their productivity and elevated them to higher status among the Yarda Quadrant, a planet full of hard and efficient workers who were not afraid to get their hands dirty. The planet Reblox provided the cash reserves, the planet Braxis provided stellar security, and Athelonians were the workhorses. Everything worked out.

  So she had thought.

  Up ahead the tall building grew larger, a flat, square door rising up in the side like an opened mouth. The building was gorgeous and she couldn't help but smile again at realizing her new life. She would never have to assemble complex electronics again. No longer having to live with a sparse half hour for lunch or dirt permanently etched under her fingernails like gray sub dermal tattoos. She was one of the privileged, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she already relished it.

  But that small nugget of resentment had buried itself deep and hard. It had been a week since that conversation with Redax, a week since they discovered Jary was pregnant, and a week since she had started to learn the real truth of his place in Athelon hierarchy.

  The real truth of Athelon's hierarchy itself.

  In the span of one half hour argument, the entire quadrant had become a very different place indeed.

  "In the garage, Mrs. Northstar?" the driver asked, leaning over and glancing back at her. She saw the opening in the side of the building just beyond his shoulder.

  "Yes, please," she replied.

  The anti-grav passenger car shifted, adjusted its trajectory and guided itself towards the opened side of the building, slipping into the parking chamber, then settling down, blasts of hard, compressed air slamming down on the hard surface of the ground, then easing their force, settling the vehicle on four over-inflated tires.

  Jary reached towards the belt on her shoulder, but the driver leaped from his seat, out his door, then swung back around, opening her door before she even considered hooking her precious fingers in the handle.

  "Please, Mrs. Northstar, allow me."

  She did.

  She stepped out of the vehicle, her dark gown brushing along the floor, tickling her ankles and she had to muffle a chuckle. Act like she'd been here before, like this state of privilege was nothing new. Redax had insisted on that.

  Redax was insisting on a lot these days, a lot that she hadn't been aware of when she accepted his vows. But would she have done anything differently if she had known? If she'd had an inkling of the truth would she have said no to his proposal and returned to her life of labor, pain and living paycheck to paycheck?

  She liked to think so. Jary liked to fool herself into thinking she had this moral superiority that would have prevented her from getting married to someone she now knew as an adept and skilled liar.

  As she let the driver open the door to her apartment, she cast her eyes downward, silently reprimanding herself. That wasn't fair. Redax wasn't a liar. He wasn't somehow hiding a dirty and virulent truth about himself. He wasn't concealing a sinister nasty secret of his personality.

  It went far beyond that small scope of possibility. What he was concealing was a much larger and more evolved conspiracy, but he was doing it for the sake of planetary security. At least that's what he told her. That's what she'd have to believe. At his core, he wasn't a bad man.

  At least she didn't think so. At this point, how could she tell?

  The driver backed out of the door he had opened for her, bowing and leaving her alone in her apartment. Their apartment. It belonged to the two of them, though if she believed Redax, she would be the only one seeing it for long stretches at a time.

  "Welcome home."

  The voice was a quiet, throaty hum, and Jary's heart skipped. His voice had been the first thing she'd fallen in love with and it still sent a warm bloom of liquid sun through her chest.

  "Redax, my love," she said, pasting a smile on her smooth face. "You're home."

  He took a step towards her, lifting his left hands. With one, he gripped her forearm tenderly and with the other he brushed his fingers across her cheek.

  "Of course. I couldn't let you preview the new apartment by yourself."

  She smiled warmly and touched his arm with her hands as well, then they embraced briefly, but thoroughly.

  As they separated, she walked past him. "I thought you had something going on tonight?"

  "I do," he replied. "I need to leave soon."

  She paused, letting his words drift in the cool, artificial air of the penthouse apartment.

  "Jary, I know this has been a lot for you to absorb."

  She turned towards him. "A lot to absorb? Secret war between the two largest civilizations in the quadrant? The fact that you're an ace fighter pilot launching covert operations against an enemy planet? That's a lot to absorb?"

  Redax's fa
ce hardened, his soft features chiseled away, leaving only unforgiving stone underneath. "Perhaps you would have preferred I continue keeping the truth from you?"

  "Of course not," Jary replied, her tone softening. "You must understand... we knew each other for two years. For two years you had countless excuses and cover-ups. If you were lying about this, what else--?"

  "Don't," Redax replied. "Planetary security is not the same as shameless infidelity, Jary."

  "I'm making no accusations here," Jary snapped. "But when I married you, I married a man I thought I knew. Not a top secret military commando."

  "That is who I am. I had a choice. I could be honest or continue the cover-up. I chose honesty. Certainly I get some credit for that?"

  Jary drew in a breath and lowered her gaze. A warm blush crept into her cheeks and she hated it. Redax had the power to make her feel guilty, even when the fault clearly rested with him.

  "And this war," she continued. "This hidden conflict between Athelon and Reblox? How long has this been going on?"

  Redax turned from her, crossing all four arms over his broad chest. One of his hands stroked the low brown fuzz on his chin as his eyes narrowed.

  "Nearly a century," he replied, his back still turned.

  "By the mother."

  Redax turned and shot her a look. "You must understand why the public cannot know. If the quadrant at large knew of this war, our entire economy and way of life would crumble. Planetary upheaval. Our civilizations would, in essence, be destroyed."

  "So instead of them being conceptually destroyed, these two planets will actually destroy each other? With weapons and bombs?"

  "It's not that simple."

  "Of course not."

  "Clearly I have made a mistake speaking the truth to you, Jary. You would have been much more blissful in your ignorance."

  Jary closed her fists. "I'm not saying that, Redax. But we have a daughter on the way. We have more than ourselves to consider."

  Redax looked past his wife towards the small platform in the corner of the main living area where they stood. A frosted domed cover sealed it with several hoses connecting it to the wall and to its base. Not physically capable of breeding, Athelonians utilized an incubation chamber to exchange their genetic material and create life, more out of necessity for continuing their lineage rather than expressing love or devotion.

  But Redax felt some measure of love when he looked at the chamber. Part of the two of them rested inside that frosted domed cover, and in a month or less, they would have a new addition to their already tense family.

  "It is because of her that I wanted you to know the truth," Redax said. "She must grow up realizing what's to come."

  "No protection for our own daughter?"

  "I don't want to live a lie, Jary," he said. "Not anymore."

  She hated the way that warmed her heart. Jary wanted to be angry at him. She wanted to stay angry at him, deeply resentful for the two years he spent telling falsehoods to her face. Upset at the fact that when he said he was out of town on business, he was likely risking his life in service of the Athelon Space Fleet. Murdering the citizens of a planet she had considered a partner for most of her younger years.

  She wanted to stay angry. But she knew she wouldn't. She never could.

  Jary turned towards the window, looking out onto the other surrounding buildings, all standing tall under the darkening sky, lights beginning to flicker alight across the horizon.

  "So where are you going tonight?"

  Redax took three steps towards her, resting his hands on her shoulders, two on each one.

  "I'm sorry, Jary, but I can't tell you all the details. I have a meeting in Adroxis, then I am likely going off planet for a couple of weeks. You may not see me until the next lunar cycle."

  She didn't reply.

  "Iridium Squadron needs me, Jary. Our fleet is all that stands between Athelon and Reblox rule. That is not something I take lightly, and I only told you because I trust you implicitly. I love you and want to only be honest. Honest with you and with our daughter."

  Jary looked over at the incubation chamber, picturing the small, huddled body curled underneath. They couldn't see inside at this point, but from all of her studies she knew the fetus was a good size already, it didn't take Athelonians long to mature in the incubation environment. Less than a month from now they'd have an infant.

  Would Redax be home in time to enjoy it? Would he even still be alive?

  Jary didn't know the answer to either question and couldn't help but resent the fact that she needed those questions answered.

  But it was a resentment she would get over. Eventually, they'd figure this out, and they'd live in their fancy apartment with their nice clothes, nice car, and employees who did whatever they wanted them to.

  Life would be good.

  Not exactly the life she had pictured. She'd have her daughter. She'd have her life. That would have to be enough.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It's been a week.

  A week since her new husband left their apartment for his 'meeting' in Adroxis and a full week since she spoke to or heard from him.

  Throughout the two years they had negotiated this new relationship prior to their marriage, he had countless business trips and numerous times away, but never had he gone a full week without some kind of communication. Some clue or hint that he was still alive and still thinking of her.

  Now that she was his wife, did that change the dynamic? Did that make her somehow more indebted to him and more susceptible to his behaviors? Did he not worry so much about what she thought because she had no other alternatives?

  Or was this mission simply more important?

  Was his place in Iridium Squadron so critical that it required more of his attention? She didn't know, and she would never know because she wouldn't ask too many questions.

  "She's healthy," said the physician as she stood up from the incubation chamber where Jary and Redax's fetus was growing. "No signs of any trouble."

  "Good," Jary replied, looking at the chamber. There was no clear way to see inside, Athelonian fetuses were exceptionally sensitive to light so they had to remain in a frosted chamber to filter out any stray brightness. But with their vital signs and health status monitored by trained professionals, highly trained physicians like Dr. Hyrandi could keep track of their progress.

  "Her energy is good, fluid levels are just right. No indication of any problems."

  "Thank you," Jary replied. "Do you have an estimated birth date?"

  The physician looked down at the device she held in her palm, tracing the ten fingers on her right hands through menu selections.

  "She is progressing nicely, but we do not have a concrete timetable for tube emergence yet, Mrs. Northstar."

  "I understand," Jary replied. "Her father is away on business, and my hope was that he would return in time."

  The doctor nodded in understanding. "Of course. Some of what happens remains outside our control, but whatever we can do to make sure both parents are present, we will do."

  "Thank you."

  "Will there be anything else?" the doctor asked.

  Jary shook her head absently, her eyes wide and vacant as if not truly paying attention.

  "Very good," Dr. Hyrandi replied, bowed, and walked from the apartment, easing the door closed behind her. Jary looked at the incubation chamber, arms crossed over her narrow chest. There was a gentle swell of love and fear mixed together like in a blender, a somewhat weird forbidden emotion. Jary hadn't been certain she was ready to be a mother even before she had learned of Redax's secret life. Now, realizing that she could be raising this child herself?

  She pushed the thought aside and strode forward, past the incubation chamber and into the kitchen. Dinner for one, like it had been all week. Like it could be for another month. She might as well get used to it.

  ###

  The water was a smooth sheet under the watchful eye of the moons perched high up in the At
helon sky. It looked more like an ice rink, a dark plane of glass, but the slight breeze over the hills sent enough ripples along the surface to break that illusion.

  Moon reflections twisted and rippled, a low wake rolling through, cresting to white as four slender, angular watercraft broke the surface, moving towards a small building drenched in shadow. A small island sat on the water, several hundred yards from the shore, with only a single structure on it, square and solid with no windows and no light sources. Tufts of brush laced the edge of the rounded island with more thick trees crawling up the sides of the darkened building, the entire body of water cast in the deep shadow of the tall structures around it.

  The flight to Plorage had been smooth though it had taken a few days. As the largest city in the Southern Hemisphere of Athelon, Plorage had its own unique dichotomy, a constant battle between civilization and wilderness, with neither one the clear victor. Tall buildings scraped the clouds in thick clusters, but snatches of grass, trees, and water encroached upon even the tallest buildings. It was a strange oasis of sorts, a bizarre amalgamation of concrete and dirt, glass, steel, and forest.