Suns Eclipsed Read online

  Table of Contents

  About Suns Eclipsed

  Praise for the Indigo Reports series

  Title Page

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Did you enjoy this book? How to make a big difference!

  The next book in the Indigo Reports series.

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Suns Eclipsed

  It’s not an impossible mission. It’s an insane one.

  Ten people. Eriumans, Karassians, Free-Staters. None of them armed with anything more lethal than a single repaired and unreliable one-handed ghostmaker and a handful of bladed weapons, all of them with mental instabilities from years of brain wipes and memory manipulations. Worse, Bellona Cardenas is uncertain of their loyalties. Ten fragile people to infiltrate the most secure facility in the Republic.

  So begins Suns Eclipsed, the second book in the Indigo Reports space opera science fiction series by award-winning SF author Tracy Cooper-Posey.

  The Indigo Reports series:

  0.5 Flying Blind

  1.0 New Star Rising

  1.1 But Now I See

  2.0 Suns Eclipsed

  3.0 Worlds Beyond

  Space Opera Novel

  Praise for the Indigo Reports series

  Tracy makes the world come alive and by the time you get to the end of the story your sitting on the edge

  An exciting glimpse of what's to come by this author in the SciFi genre.

  True SciFi is a magnificent world to enter and this is just the beginning of what I know will be a great series.

  Hits all the things that I love about Sci-fi.

  So much story!! So much promise!! This will keep my inner nerd happy.

  Keeping close tabs on this new Sci-fi series.

  I am a big fan of Tracy Cooper-Posey’s because I thoroughly enjoy the intrigue she generates with her fictional-but-believable worlds and unpredictable plots

  This little window into the world of SciFi did not disappoint me, in fact, I think I'm addicted!!

  Chapter One

  Criselda I, Criselda, Eriuman Republic

  Criselda was only the secondary system in the Dejulii portfolio. No one had bothered to give the one livable world a unique name. Everyone called it Criselda, rarely bothering with the “I” that should come after the name. The equatorial band barely supported human crops, forcing the natives to depend upon imports. The Criseldans were more fertile than their land. They turned trading into big business. Criselda housed the Republic’s supply depots, equipping every ship in the Erium Navy. Security around the city-sized depots was backed up by the might of the military cruisers and destroyers constantly overhead. No one in their right minds would consider breaking in to the depots.

  Which was why Bellona and her people were busy doing just that.

  Khalil, Sang and Bellona crouched in deep moon-shadows cast by the nearest building to the depot perimeter, a good twenty-five meters away from the fence. The night was dark, the moon a sliver and the shadows and pockets obscure. The depot, though, was ablaze with lights.

  “This is complete madness,” Khalil said as they watched guards armed with ghostmakers cross-examine a civilian at the single, highly secure gate of the primary Criselda supply depot.

  “I heard you the first time.” Bellona worked to keep her voice even.

  Sang lowered the trinoculars. “Laser nets across every open space, with barely half-a-meter between each strand. If we step into them without the tags the guards have implanted, we’ll be detected.” He looked at her. “There are easier targets than this.”

  “None of the others have the stash of ghostmakers Criselda does,” Bellona replied. “And that is the last time I will say it. Clear?”

  No one replied. Khalil merely nodded.

  Bellona looked over her shoulder. The long alley they had crept through to reach this point was now empty, with only fused dirt and tendrils of early morning fog wreathing around the base of the buildings. Even the air she breathed tasted damp and lifeless. Nothing grew here without constant encouragement.

  “Are the others in place?” Bellona asked.

  Sang paused, his gaze focusing inward as he discussed everyone’s status with Connie, the private yacht. Connie hung in the outer atmosphere overhead, coordinating communications.

  Khalil wouldn’t look Bellona in the eye. He kept his back to the corner and peered around it, even though Sang had the trinoculars.

  “This was your idea,” Bellona reminded Khalil.

  “I said you needed a coup, something to make the free worlds take notice. Breaking into Criselda is grander than what I had in mind.” He glanced at her and away. “We’re here now.”

  “Your fatalist streak is showing,” Sang said, his tone chiding.

  “Says the android, the ultimate in fatalism,” Khalil replied.

  “The others?” Bellona asked Sang.

  He nodded, his pale, freckled face grave. “Hayes says the door he was expecting is not there.”

  Khalil frowned. “It was on the blueprints.”

  “It’s not there now,” Sang replied. “The blueprints are wrong. Hayes says no door is not a problem.”

  “Is he going to bust his way through the wall?” Khalil asked, the frown still in place. “This is supposed to be soft-shoe.”

  “Connie wasn’t certain. She didn’t understand what Hayes said he would do. She said something about ‘peeling’.”

  Bellona looked at the walls of the structure on the other side of the perimeter. They were made of pre-fabricated panels of steel sheets sandwiching a layer of insulation, bolted to plasticrete stub walls. Someone had added a lackluster color to the steel a long time ago. The average human would not be able to broach the seams with their bare fingers. Hayes was not average.

  “If he says he can get in, leave him to do it,” Bellona said.

  Neither Sang nor Khalil spoke. The silence was telling. They didn’t agree with her. They had not agreed at any point in the operation, yet they were cooperating anyway. It was an isolating sensation, one she didn’t like. She would have to get used to it, she realized.

  Since the news of Xenia’s defection from the Karassian Homogeny to take up the Free Worlds cause, Bellona had resisted the epithets heaped upon the Karassian puppet she had once been. Traitor, the Karassians called her, while her native Eriuman Republicans decried her utter lack of character. The Free Worlds were confused by her. All of them were convinced she was crazy.

  Perhaps she had absorbed some of those beliefs—especially the last one—and that was now why she was trying to break into the most secure armaments depot in the known worlds.

  “What’s happening at the gate?” she asked.

  “It looks like they’re taking the woman into the barracks,” Sang said. He lowered the trinoculars. “For questioning, I presume. Perhaps we should take advantage of their distraction? There are nearly a dozen of
them escorting her.”

  “We stick to the plan,” Bellona said as firmly as she could, hiding her reaction to the idea of being surrounded by guards and being forced to go anywhere. That had been her life for far too long. She spared a moment to pity the woman.

  * * * * *

  The woman was petite and might have been beautiful, Ravi Dejulian decided, if her face was clear of fear and her eyes not red from crying. She stumbled along the fused earth footpath, sniveling and looking around fearfully at her escort.

  He didn’t let down his guard, even though the others had decided that she was as helpless and intriguing as she appeared. Kerran, she said her name was. She was looking for the man who had told her he would come back for her. He was a Dejulian who she had met on Kalay. He’d told her he worked here and when she had discovered her pregnancy, she had come to find him…

  It might even be true, Ravi decided. She was curvaceous and very pleasing to the eye. Eriuman, of course. Ravi suspected she was classless, without a clan to claim as her own. Perhaps she was a forgotten by-blow of some clansman’s dalliance, or she came from a family so poor in antecedents no clan wanted them. That would make her even more eager to snare a genuine Dejulii…if she was truthful about the man who had professed he loved her.

  Ravi’s supervisor, Corvi, had clearly decided the distraught woman was lying, his thick lips curling up into a disdainful sneer as he examined her from head to toe tip. So many recruits rotated through the depot; the disgraced, the untried, the injured and recovering. This woman’s man may have come and gone in the time it had taken her to learn of her pregnancy and find passage here. There were not many civilian ships travelling to Criselda.

  As the woman sniffed and hiccupped and wiped at her wet cheeks, Corvi pushed at her shoulder, encouraging her to move a little faster. She threw her raised hand out for balance, unconsciously gripping the nearest support, Gregory, who had been walking a little too close. Gregory was tall enough that the view inside the woman’s dress would be interesting from his angle.

  As Gregory supported her while she found her footing once more, he ran his hands over her. Ravi hid his own grimace. He knew what was to come.

  They passed into the barracks. The deployment station was at the front, living quarters behind, while the passage into the depot itself was attached to the back. The rain on Criselda was mildly acidic, which was why nothing grew here and why the passage was roofed and sealed.

  The deployment station was also used as a clerical office for the administration of the guard roster. On rare occasions when interrogation was needed, the empty office at the end of the short row was used.

  Corvi marched the woman into the office. She spun to look behind her when the door lock activated with a quiet snick of the bolts, but couldn’t see beyond the men crowding in behind her, pushing up close.

  Ravi moved into the corner. He was in no hurry and someone had to listen for the approach of other guards, who might interfere and spoil the fun.

  Corvi faced the woman and slid his hand down to the fastenings of his pants. “Hold her,” he said shortly.

  The woman gave a little cry, trying to back away from him. She rammed into the wall of men, who gripped her arms. She struggled. When her feet slid out from under her, she dangled from their hands, writhing.

  Ravi knew it didn’t matter what she did. It wouldn’t stop them.

  Corvi closed in, feral delight on his thick features, as the men lifted her and stripped her clothing away. One clamped a hand over her mouth, holding in the screams. Her struggles intensified. She got one hand free and beat and scratched at whatever she could reach.

  “Luscious…” one of them said, his voice hoarse, as her curves were revealed.

  “Hold her still,” Corvi demanded. He gripped her hips and forced himself into her, grunting at the pleasure of it. Then he rode her, in hard, grinding jerks.

  The woman grew still, defeated, letting him do what he wanted. She stopped screaming. Her gaze grew steady, watching Corvi’s red face as he took her.

  Gregory, who was as skinny as he was tall, coughed and thumped his chest to clear it. He didn’t like being indoors. His lungs were as weak as the rest of him. His eyes glowed as he held the woman’s knee and the high boot to one side and watched the action.

  Corvi’s motions accelerated and his grip tightened.

  The guard’s hand fell away from the woman’s mouth, for he was too interested in watching. She didn’t try to scream again. Her gaze remained on Corvi. “You can do better than that, surely?” Her tone was dry.

  Corvi jerked his head up to look at her face for the first time. It was a quick glance. He looked back down at her body and what he was doing to her. He was in the deep end, committed to finishing this. Lust had control.

  The woman sighed and arched, inviting him deeper. “Yes. Mmm.”

  Ravi’s mouth fell open. It looked almost as though she was taking Corvi. There was no reluctance in her face, or resistance in her body.

  One of the others holding her—one of the new ones whom Ravi didn’t know yet—coughed as well. It was the same booming, wheezing hack that Gregory had made. The man gripped his chest, the deep gouge on the back of his hand from the woman’s nails oozing blood. He tried to clear his throat.

  Azat, who really liked these “sessions”, sank to his knees with a tired sigh, letting her go. His head hung as he breathed in shallow wheezes.

  Corvi didn’t seem to notice. Neither did the woman. She was riding him now, wriggling with pleasure. Her eyes were nearly closed and she was making little panting, mewling sounds.

  Gregory let go of her knee as a series of back-bending coughs exploded from him. He propped himself on his knees, whooping and panting.

  The woman merely wrapped her boot around Corvi’s hips, encouraging him.

  Corvi climaxed with a grunt. As he came, so did she, with a hitch of her breath and a smile. “For your pleasure,” she said, staring at Corvi.

  He stiffened, his eyes snapping open, wider than seemed possible. His body froze. The red in his face deepened and tremors ran through him.

  “Sir?” Ravi whispered.

  The other six were all coughing or breathing hard. They had lost interest in the woman or anything other than their next breath. They let her go. The woman merely propped herself up with one hand and unwound her leg from around Corvi, who stood in frozen shock, still.

  Her movements dislodged him from her body. His member emerged bloody and…bitten.

  The woman rose to her feet. She was naked except for the tall boots yet Ravi barely noticed her curves. A long lock of wavy hair hung over her face and might have seemed gamine, except for the hard look in her eyes and the sharp line of her jaw. She lifted her chin to look down at him.

  Ravi swallowed.

  “Give me your pass,” she said.

  “My…my pass?” The only pass he could think of was the chip they had implanted under his collar bone when he had started here. It let them move about the compound without tripping off the always-on security grid.

  The woman smiled. It was a warm, inviting expression that made him shudder. She reached for the collar of his tunic and pulled it open, revealing the flesh of his upper chest and shoulder. Her fingertips slid over the skin beneath his collarbone. His heart thudded. Terror rippled through him.

  “This pass,” she cooed.

  Her fingernail dug into his flesh and tore a channel through it.

  * * * * *

  Sang spun on his heel, the trinoculars dropping. “The net just went down,” he said sharply.

  “Tell the others,” Bellona said.

  Khalil leaned back against the wall and let out a heavy breath. “Hero did it.”

  “Just as she said she would,” Bellona reminded him, for Hero’s role in the affair had been one of his greatest objections. “The others will all come through, too.”

  Khalil straightened and checked his aging ghostmaker one more time. “Time for us to do the same.”<
br />
  Bellona looked at Sang. He nodded.

  “Go,” she said.

  Sang’s gaze grew unfocused as he told Connie to pass the go command along.

  The three of them sprinted for the small, man-sized door in the side of the big, rambling building. There was a knee-high fence marking the perimeter, that carried signs every ten meters declaring the lethalness of the security layers beyond. They hurdled the sharp edges of the fence and kept going.

  Shouts and the soft thud of running boots sounded from the official gate, a hundred meters away. Bellona risked a glance over her shoulder and saw many of the guards heading for the barracks building at a run. They were confident the net would alert them if anyone penetrated the perimeter and didn’t bother to look around. The fuss inside the barracks was taking all their attention.

  She ran.

  Sang slapped his palm against the doorplate. “Connie!” he said sharply.

  The door clicked to unlocked. Khalil shouldered his way inside and Bellona and Sang followed.

  It was not dark inside. Artificial sunlight was diverted and diffused across the hectares of open area. The light was needed, for there were small mountains everywhere, in regimented rows. The mountains were made of stacks of crates—metal, plasteel, carbon-compressed and good old-fashioned wood pulp. Each mountain was made of identical containers. No mountain resembled any other.

  “Where?” Bellona said.

  Sang hesitated, then pointed toward the middle. “Row thirty-nine, Section gamma-epsilon.”

  “Does Hayes have the truck yet?” Bellona asked as they ran again, heading for the nearest cross-corridor.

  “Working on it,” Sang called out.

  * * * * *

  Peeling back the prefabricated section of the wall had been no challenge at all. Once Hayes had burrowed through the hole he’d made and stood inside the depot, he relaxed. Security measures were less stringent inside, Sang had assured everyone.

  It turned out that relaxing was a mistake.

  He oriented himself. He was at the back of the building, where the forgotten and abandoned supplies sat gathering dust. Well, not much dust, for the air scrubbers were efficient. Yet, despite the bright daylight, the lack of dust and the ordered arrangement of the mounds of containers, an air of neglect hung over the area. While there was no direct evidence, it felt to him as if people rarely came back here.