Rebel Star (The System Apocalypse #8)

I can already taste the chocolate—the bitterness, the velvet smoothness—on my tongue as I stare at the golden foil. The luxurious taste as it melts in your mouth and slides down your throat, that hit of sugar and cocoa that perks you up. Carefully, I unwrap the piece of heaven, slide the piece into my mouth, and let my eyes half-close. I revel in the taste, finding peace. Happiness. Decadence.
“Are you listening, John?” Harry’s voice cuts in, forcing me to open my eyes to look at the British journalist.
Harry’s dressed in the latest Galactic fashion, which reminds me of the worse of seventies fashion crossed with a gothic ensemble—garish colors on too-tight clothes held down by big belt buckles that crisscross the body. It’s a bad clash with his umber skin, but then again, I’m dressed in Adventurer chic. Black armored bodysuit with multi-pocketed vest, pistol and knife strapped to me.
“No.” The words come slow, my attention returning to my friends. First, though, I let my gaze sweep over the spartan furnishing of the spaceship we’re in. The mess hall is spartan, all in bronze, brown, and used, the smell of hours old cooking mixing with the taste of the chocolate in my mouth. Memories of a better time, an easier time, threatening to return. “Not really.”
Harry harrumphs while Ali holds up a hand, the two-foot-tall Spirit floating upside down as he speaks. “What boy-o means is that you’re blathering. Just the conclusion.”
“I’d like details,” Mikito speaks up.
“See? Some people understand the trouble I go through to get this information,” Harry says.
“No. I just want the details.”
Harry huffs at the congenial ribbing. “Obviously we have System confirmation that the target’s still paying into the quest pool for Adventurers targeting Earth leaders. Of course, as we know, that’s not enough confirmation these days, since they’ve started messing with the System data pools. But Slimwese isn’t the kind to keep quiet about what he’s doing. I have four different independent confirmations of him ranting and boasting of his involvement. On top of that, I checked financing on the fund and backtracked it to two of his companies.”
“Good enough.” Mikito’s black eyes harden, and for a moment, the naked blade that my little friend has become shows itself. Then Mikito leans back and that sense of danger disappears.
“What is it?” I say, interrupting Harry before he can get into the next part. The part where we plan how to kill a man. Alien. Sentient. Everyone else looks at me, but I can’t help but ask. “What number? Seven, eight? Since we started this?”
“Nine or eleven,” Harry says. “Depending on how you count the Filt incident.”
“Ah. Right. Filt…” I say. That had not been our proudest moment. Filt was the reason we’d started double-checking everything we got from the System. Our enemies had used the System to lie to us, to send us against an enemy of theirs. The only good thing was that the son of a bitch was not much better than the ones we meant to kill. He and his friend. And so many uncounted individuals who just were doing their jobs, who got in the way.
“And the six orgs,” Ali adds. “However you want to count that.”
I grunted. Taking out a corporation was both easier and harder than dealing with an individual. Sometimes it was just a person or two you had to dissuade. Often, it was a board and shareholders who needed convincing—and that convincing was a matter of stealing, destroying, and otherwise taking away their resources and operations. Best part is when you throw the Credits you steal right back into a fund for others to keep doing the same.
“Two years and a bit, a whole bunch of dead sentients, and what have we really accomplished?” I can’t help but let the weariness, the emotional exhaustion creep into my voice. Two years of violence against others. Running, hiding, killing. Bringing hell back to those who attacked us first. And for what?
“The bounty fund targeting Earth personnel is down to thirty percent of its original size,” Harry says. “There were only three assassination attempts last month.”
“One of which succeeded,” I say.
The Grandmaster in Hong Kong had fallen in that attack. There might be fewer attacks, but the fellows taking the jobs are more skilled. Even with all the defenses, the training and Levels, being on the defensive is killing us. Slowly but surely.
“Historically, that’s pretty good,” Ali says. “You should see the numbers in Truinnar and Movana empires. Never mind the Piskies and the Gruthlaks.”
“John?” When she knows she has my attention, Mikito continues. “Are we calling this off?”
“No.” I shake my head. Whatever I might think, wherever my conscience might fall… Slimwese is a bad man. And we’ve come this far. Might as well finish it. Somehow though, I can’t help but remember an old friend. One who died just before we entered the Galactic arena. Someone who, in her own way, was a much better killer than I could ever be. “Just… no. Go on, Harry.”
And he does. He goes into the details of Slimwese’s Status, of his security and his routines. Of what we can expect. And then, in the midst of the planning, I forget my reticence for a while. I forget the exhaustion and doubts while I plan how to kill a man.

Release Date: 1. Dezember 2019

Pages: 415

Genre: LitRPG Sci-Fi

eBook ISBN: 9781989458204

Language: English

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