Chapter 45

 

 

“What’s your name?” I asked the bearded man standing over me.

“Clyde.”

“Are you going to give the new boss a hand up, Clyde?”

The question was something of a test. Although the terms of the duel stated I would assume control of the Brotherhood, I didn’t have the Criminal Kingpin class and was a little unsure about how that would all work. I had no idea if I was about to get ganked by an opportunist.

“Is that a request or an order?” Clyde asked back.

“What do you want it to be?”

Clyde stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Well, it’s been thirty seconds, and you haven’t called anyone a useless bastard, so you’re already an improvement on Luca in my book, Boss. I’m mighty glad he’s dead and much obliged to you for doing what I couldn’t. Throwing my lot in with him was the worst decision in a life filled with questionable choices.” He held his hand out with a wide smile and clasped it with mine. Clyde helped haul me to my feet.

This was a promising development. Clyde was either a world-class actor or he actually had a degree of loyalty towards me.

Anticipating my train of thought Quixbix chirped in. <Luca’s current level of influence has been transferred over to you. Without his class to renew control, it will ebb away, but you’ve probably got a week before that becomes a problem. Plenty of time to assert your authority. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get things rolling before doling out the all-important updates.>

“Are there any healers in your group, Clyde? It may have escaped your notice, but I’m a bit worse for wear.”

The bearded man grinned again and then whistled loudly. “Ramon, get your ass over here. The bossman needs a top-up.”

“Speaking of healing,” I pointed at the palanquin bearers. “Clyde, get these people unchained, inside, and warmed up. We’ll get some healers to check out their frostbite. Magic should mean we can avoid amputation.”

“On it, Boss.”

While Ramon cast a few spells to rejuvenate some of my Hit Points, Clyde organised getting Luca’s victims into the warmth of the school. By the time the healer was done, the vanguard units of the militia in the region had come into view and started to take control of the situation. The first thing they did was disarm the Brotherhood soldiers. Most of them, including Clyde and Ramon, accepted the disarmament with relative good grace.

The identities of the grumblers were noted.

Then I sent out a couple of messages using Clarion’s Call.

Luca is dead. We’ve won. When you encounter Brotherhood forces order them in my name to lay down their arms. They ought to obey.

That went out to everyone in range who could hear. Then I sent a second message to a select few, letting them know where they could find Fang Mei and where I was.

With the immediate details handled, it was time to hear what the Framework had to say.

“Hit me with the updates, Quixbix.”

<First off you were credited with 297,000 XP for killing Luca. Getting into a fight with a guy more than twice your strength has its rewards.>

Considering the recent change in my status because of Claudia I required 165K per level, I would need every point of that experience. But we weren’t done.

<Quest Divine Retribution completed. 660,000 XP, 100 Notoriety, 100 upgrade points and Chaos Dragonscale Breastplate awarded. All property and influence possessed by the Brotherhood of the Lion’s Claw has been automatically folded into the Shattered Storm.>

I whistled loudly. “Bloody Nora! That is a lot of XP and upgrade points. How did the random allocation of the upgrade points shake out?”

<It’s not given you enough class points to jump to Dungeon Corsair Prince, you greedy bugger. However, you’ve got enough to improve your species to tier 4 and increase the tiers of your path and harmonisation. Which I would advise you do before trading in all that experience. When you add in what you already had and what else you’ve earned during the campaign, you’re ready to jump eight levels to twenty-nine. Now do you want to check out your fancy new Breastplate that completes your set.>

My mind shifted to my inventory and there it was in one of my open slots. The fifth piece of my armour set. I switched it out with the chain shirt I’d been wearing up till now and admired the feel and seamless nature of the five piece-set. The interlocking black scales edged with ice-blue.

 

Shattered Dragonscale Breastplate

Chaos Dragonscale Armour (H) (Set 5 of 5)

Damage Mitigation: Very High

HP +600

Stat: +10 Agility, +10 Constitution, +10 Strength, +10 Speed, +10 to one random physical stat. Changes each day.

Set Bonus: Indomitability. Attacks or effects that normally bypass Hit Points to affect Health directly remove Hit Points instead. Bleed effects that would drain Health no longer do.

Drawback: All Notoriety losses are doubled. (If this armour is removed the drawback remains in place for three months. This stacks with the other pieces of the set.)

This armour is forged from the discarded scales of Chaos Dragons in the demesne of the Shattered Goddess. Other pieces of armour can be worn over this extended coverage for their Mana-infused abilities, but the damage mitigation does not stack. (Can only be worn by adherents of the Shattered Goddess)

Durability: 10,000/10,000

 

My Hit Points jumped by another five hundred when I donned the armour. The chain I’d been wearing had only supplied an extra one hundred. I could have used the extra a few minutes ago. Not to mention immunity from early health loss. With a combination of both factors, I would have lost barely any of my Health at all instead of being down to eight.

Immunity from Health bleed was pretty cool too. It was a small load off my mind that with my armour on I didn’t have to worry about worsening my injuries if I clattered into a table by accident.

I’d been holding it together on adrenaline and sheer bloodymindedness. The bot of relief helped ease the burden.

However, it wasn’t all good news. If my level-ups didn’t heal my injuries, and there was no guarantee they would, I’d be convalescing for several months. That would hinder what I needed to be cracking on with.

 

***

 

With hostilities over it didn’t take long for Ana and Shana to reach me at the school. Brant was with them. His legion had reached the bastion the girls defended moments before the duel started and put a stop to the fighting. A close shave for all concerned.

Despite the full disaster being averted, the big man’s demeanour was muted. It was clear guilt weighed upon him heavily. The one piece of good news was that Amber’s friend Michelle had not been killed. She was severely injured but would live. If she hadn’t, I fear that could have broken Brant in a way that couldn’t be fixed. It would be difficult enough as things stood.

Tavar, who had been nearest to our position, collected the still unconscious Fang Mei from the shack where I’d hidden her and brought her to the school. After that, we relocated to the City Hall near the river that was between two of the bastions we’d conquered, and it was there that the rest of my commanders gathered. It was time for the talk.

I explained to the group what I knew about Ashli, how it had survived and what its general intentions were. Including that a fragment of its will was loose in the world somewhere. I left out Devantus Drakonis and my odd encounter with the ASI and played it off as knowledge I’d garnered as part of the spiritual contest which had gone awry.

When I finished there was a moment of silence when my most trusted stared at one another uncomfortably. I understood their truculence. We’d just come through a dangerous existential threat to their safety, and no sooner did they think they could relax and contemplate a bit of celebration, I dropped another bomb on them.

LT broke the silence as I suspected he would. “What’s the plan, Bossman?”

“We, or perhaps it’s better to say I, have allowed too many distractions to get in the way of my decision-making. The world can’t afford for us to do that any longer. Ashli’s agent is out there, and it has a plan. We don’t know who the agent is or what that plan is, so we need to be ready for anything. That means we need to be prepared to act and to do so without distraction or concern.

“Concerns like the security of our homes, our loved ones, and whether those around us are secretly working with the very agent that seeks to destroy us all.

“What’s the plan? Well, we need to remove those concerns. Step one; Unify Michigan under one banner. The Shattered Storm’s.”

 

The End of Book 3.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

Day 206

Trisha Belmont

 

 

Trisha read through the letter Torin had sent her through the podium for the fifteenth time in the last hour.

Part of her wanted to think it was some kind of April fool’s joke. Despite the cold, it might be almost April, the winter had been particularly harsh and could have lingered.

But she had to shrug that off.

This had been no joke, and she hadn’t lost track of the calendar that badly. They were still in February, probably even early February. Most people had started to adjust to the Darkwyrlds standards as that is what was used on the podiums and when they accessed their own interfaces.

“Prepare Regina and the Saginaw Rebels to be merged into the Shattered Storm,” she muttered to her reflection in the mirror of her bedside table. “You have met Regina, Torin. That is much easier said than done.”

Torin would visit in a few weeks and expected the acceptance of the merger to be a mere formality by that time. Not a lot to ask for!

Trisha knew nothing would be achieved by sitting in her suite and fretting over it. The groundwork had to be laid. Regina was prickly, independent, and stubborn. She liked Torin, quite a bit, but she was not the kind of woman who was comfortable handing over her authority to another. If this was going to be a smooth transition, her advisors had to be on board. And a groundswell of popular opinion wouldn’t go amiss.

The news about what happened in Grand Rapids had seeped into the wider Saginaw understanding. Friends and family of Saginaw residents who had been trapped in the city under the Brotherhood’s iron rule had been given access to the podiums to contact the outside world. What they’d been saying reflected very positively on the Shattered Storm.

But gratitude for a loved one’s safety and well wishes didn’t automatically translate into compliance where governance was concerned.

How to begin? Calum MacDonald was a popular figure with the people. The protector and warrior-leader of the community. His support would go a long way in helping swing the populace behind the idea. However, he’d remained a bit distant following Regina’s brain leech incident. It would be better to start elsewhere, maybe have somebody else approach Calum.

It had to be Parker. Regina’s attaché and right-hand man. Trisha would need to sound him out and get the shrewd man onside if possible.

She rose from the bedside table and headed over to the clothes closet. It was time to pick out the perfect outfit. It wouldn’t hurt to appear dazzling when she worked her particular brand of magic on Parker.

 

***

Day 240

Richard Reynolds

 

 

Former Governor Reynolds shivered in the cold morning air while he stared out at the snow-covered landscape of Flagstaff Mountain in the distance. He was standing on the balcony of an abandoned ski lodge they had occupied upon arriving in Boulder and taking over. Winter had passed but the temperature at this elevation continued to dip below freezing, especially overnight.

But he’d wanted to smoke a cigar first thing in the morning and Regina had made him go outside to indulge this vice for the past twenty years. Old habits die hard, he thought to himself and flicked the stogie with his thumb to dislodge the layer of ash at the burnt end.

If it hadn’t been for the greedy fucking Texans, he wouldn’t have to hide out in Boulder, Colorado, in the first place and he’d be enjoying his morning smoke at a reasonable temperature. RR had agreed to hand over twenty-five percent of the Framework funds he had amassed in Michigan for sanctuary in the new Lone Star Nation. The bastards had waited until his party reached the Oklahoma border of their territory before announcing a change in the terms. Seventy-five percent.

RR wouldn’t let a bunch of Stetson-hat-wearing hicks dictate to him. They could take twenty-five percent, which was too much for what they were offering, or they would have nothing.

And nothing was what they got, but it had left him the tricky proposition of where to go once the initial deal had fallen through.

Crossing Missouri and Oklahoma had been dangerous enough and none of his party fancied doing that again. Not that returning to Michigan was an option. That bridge had been thoroughly burned.

Striking out for either the warmer eastern or western seaboard had the same problem as going back to Michigan. Low populated states which had fared far worse than those with more people flanked either side of the Lone Star Nation and would have to be navigated. Staying where they were on the border didn’t work for RR either. The Texans knew what he had. And how long would it be before they realised that he wouldn’t cave to their demands, and they came to take it?

That left Colorado as his best option in the short term. The population had been concentrated in the Denver area and he knew they’d held out. Plus, Raven thrived here. The updrafts made flying much easier for her.

Higgins coughed behind him. “I have the latest report from our informant network, sir.”

“Am I going to like what you have to say?” RR chuckled.

“I wouldn’t presume to know your mind, sir.”

“A very lawyerly answer.”

RR stubbed his cigar out in an ashtray on a small metal table on the balcony. “Let’s head back inside to the warm.”

Higgins nodded and led the way back into RR’s lodgings. The lounge was plushily furnished, the decanters on the cabinet were full, and the fireplace crackled with burning logs. The kind of luxury and comfort that should have warmed his heart, but it failed to on this occasion.

RR poured himself two fingers of bourbon and then settled himself on one of the couches. It was a bit early for hard liquor, but it’s not like he had anyone to appease any longer. “Hit me.”

“There is not much extra to report. Carter continues to expand his influence in Michigan. The few informants we have left in your wife’s camp believe that she has agreed to join him or is on the verge of doing so. But they haven’t been able to get close enough to learn any of the details. We don’t know whether it will be a formal alliance or if the Saginaw Rebels will be absorbed by the Shattered Storm.”

RR grunted in mild disgust. “Regina’s obsession with the pirate was always unhealthy. She behaved like a bitch in heat whenever he was around. Only my darling, Raven, saw the monster for what he truly was.”

He paused and sipped a large mouthful of his bourbon. The smooth burn helped distract him from jealous thoughts. Somebody once said you don’t miss what you’ve got until it’s gone. A trueism where his wife was concerned.

RR had never been faithful and had firmly believed any romantic feelings he had for Regina had withered and perished years ago. Theirs had been a business relationship, not a romantic one. But now that he had truly left her, and she was free to do as she pleased, his mind seethed at the thought of her shacking up with any man other than him.

Especially Torin Carter.

Higgins took the former Governor’s pause as a signal to continue. “The Muskegon Collective have already capitulated. Understandable when you consider they are surrounded by the pirate’s forces. It has caused a schism in their council. One of their religious leaders strenuously objected and convinced several hundred of his followers to leave the city and head across the lake to Milwaukee.

“By all accounts, Carter let them go without objection. Due to our lack of sources in Wisconsin, it is difficult to establish if they made it or not and what their reception would have been if they did. The ice on the lake has started to thaw.”

RR nodded along. He didn’t really care about what happened to them. They hadn’t bowed to his control, and they could go rot for all he cared. “The holdouts in Kalamazoo and Battle Creek?”

“Kalamazoo is in much the same position as Muskegon. They haven’t made it official yet, waiting as long as they can to see if there are any further developments, I suspect. But they will capitulate, and that will effectively give him control of the entire western shoreline. Battle Creek appears to be waiting to find out which way your wife decides to go.”

“And how is my boy doing?”

“Matthew remains in Lansing. There are a few units of soldiers who have remained loyal and helped him maintain a semblance of control. Carter has not moved on him yet. But they are woefully unprepared and would be conquered quite easily without support. None of which appears to be coming. Matthew’s diplomacy skills are somewhat lacking. He issues threats and orders mostly, which are routinely ignored.”

RR thought that was a shame. He was his blood after all, even if he was a snot-nosed brat with an ungrateful mother. He’d hoped the lad might put up more of a fight, show his inner Reynolds and carve out a slice of empire for himself. The tools had been there even if the treasury had been gutted.

“Detroit remains a mess. The West Detroit and Ann Arbor factions are fracturing without you as a figurehead for them to resist. Too many cooks in the kitchen, so to speak. They don’t view Carter as a threat with him being based in Lake Michigan.”

“They should,” RR griped. “That ship of his is fast and sturdy. And last we heard; the St Clair River remains open. He can get to them easily enough.”

“You are, of course, quite correct, sir. However, they don’t see it that way. It also doesn’t help that neither group has much control in the east of the city that abuts Lake St Clair. That territory was ceded to your son and has since fallen into rebellion and secession.”

“Do you have any good news from home?” RR snapped.

“Yes, sir. We have made contact with a potentially useful new ally. The former chief of police in Flint. A man by the name of Ballard. I reached out to him through a mutual acquaintance. He seems to be a man of similar disposition to us who distrusts your wife and Carter in equal measure. He has control of the southern half of Flint.”

“Good. Some positive progress, at least. What About Willy?”

“Unfortunately, what we learned earlier about him appears to be true. He has severed ties with his former patron Sholmdir, abandoned his interest in Carter and redirected his army towards Minnesota. War in that region once the weather thaws is quite likely. Uh,” Higgins fiddled with the collar of his shirt and averted his eyes.

“Spit it out, man.”

“Yes, sir. He is still looking for you. Mutual agents in various locales, particularly Texas and Florida, have been contacted.”

“Nobody here?” RR asked in a clenched voice.

“No, sir. Not in Colorado.”

RR released the breath he’d been holding. At least, the unwanted detour to Boulder had served some usefulness. Neither Regina nor Reed would think to look for him here. His aversion to the cold weather was well documented.

Anything else Higgins had to say would have to wait as they were suddenly interrupted.

Outside, Raven swooped down onto the balcony from the sky unexpectedly and she was not alone. She carried a young man RR didn’t recognise trussed up like a Thanksgiving Turkey. She opened the sliding glass door and hurled her package inside with a strength that belied her size. It landed with a muffled wheeze. Whoever had fallen on her bad side was still alive in the bindings which was an improvement on a few previous incidents.

Raven’s white wings, tipped with scarlet, extended and flapped a couple of times to shake off any ice or snow that had settled on them during her flight over the mountains.

“What have you brought me?” RR asked, his lips edging into a smile of amusement.

“Father, I found something unusual on the mountainside. A crashed ship. Not the same design as that bastard pirate’s vessel, smaller, but definitely not of Earthly origin. It had crashed into the far side of the peak where we couldn’t see from the city. It must have happened during the night as I flew that way yesterday and saw nothing. The rest of the crew, ten of them, were all dead from the impact, but I found this one in an escape pod of some kind. He has the stench of injustice all over him.” Her eyes filled with fury, and she viciously kicked the bound and gagged man on the floor. He slid a few inches towards RR from the force of the impact. RR was pretty sure he heard the distinctive sound of a rib snapping.

He shook his head in admonishment. “Raven, really. We know nothing about the man. You can’t just take it upon yourself to punish people because of your feelings about them.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she answered like a scolded child. “I brought him to you before imposing punishment for his awful crimes, just like you asked.”

RR got up from where he sat and embraced his daughter. “Thank you, Raven. I’m very proud of the restraint you’ve shown today. It demonstrates great personal growth. Now, why don’t you get yourself some breakfast while I deal with our unexpected visitor who fell from the sky.”

Raven nodded and exited the room with a single glaring look at the trussed-up man.

“Higgins,” RR said by way of orders to the lawyer.

Understanding RR’s wish, Higgins righted the prisoner on the floor and then removed the gag so he could talk.

Meanwhile, RR poured two more glasses of bourbon and returned to the couch. He knocked back the first and then wordlessly offered the second to their bound visitor. The sandy-haired young man nodded his agreement and RR handed the glass to Higgins who helped the prisoner swallow the contents.

“Well, with the niceties out of the way, why don’t we get down to business? Who are you and what are you doing in Boulder? If I think you are being forthcoming and helpful, then we’ll see what we can do about convincing my Justicar daughter that you should be allowed to live.” RR smiled brightly at the young man.

“The names Glastos. Look, I’m just a merc under contract to the Dominarius Consortium. They’ve got some beef with a slaver on this planet, and we were hired to scout the local Plexus pathways looking for a safe way in. There were no open gates, which isn’t unsurprising.

“After a month of searching, we found a tear and the captain decided to risk it, the damn fool. Greedy for the bonus they offered. We punched through, found ourselves half a mile above ground and crashed into the mountainside. I don’t mean you or any of your people any trouble. If you let me go, I’ll fuck off into the wilderness and wait it out until the shroud lifts and I can head home.”

“Who were you looking for?” RR asked. If the captain of one of these ships that could travel between worlds deemed the bonus sizeable enough to risk his ship, crew, and life, that was something he wanted to know more about.

“Does it matter? It’s a big planet. The chances of us landing anywhere nearby were slim.”

“Humour me.”

“The faction is called the Shattered Storm. Led by a Dungeon Corsair named Torin Carter.”

Reynolds couldn’t control the wide smile that split his face. “Tell me everything.”

“Are you going to let me go?” Glastos countered.

“We’ll let you out of those restraints and keep my daughter off your back. How comfortable your stay will be depends on how helpful you are from here on in.”

“Fine,” Glastos grumbled. “I’m not stupid. If you know where this guy is and want to claim the bonus from the Dominarius Clan, you are going to need me. And I want fifty percent.”

“Fifty percent!” RR snorted. “Ridiculous. How many other crewmen did my daughter mention, ten? And you’re not even the captain. What could your cut have been? Five percent? Less? I’m feeling generous. Five it is.”

“Twenty-five,” Glastos countered.

“Ten.”

Glastos shook his head and then his eyes met RR’s. They both smiled and Glastos said. “Fifteen.”

“Agreed. Now talk.”

The next thirty minutes were incredibly illuminating.

The slaving group had sent hundreds of ships filled with mercenaries to hunt down Carter. All they lacked was a reliable method of arriving on the planet due to a lack of an open plexus gate on Earth. And they weren’t the only ones trying to reach the planet. Earth had become the destination of choice for the galactic equivalent of gold rush fever. Tens of thousands of groups were trying to make landfall and Glastos’ captain hadn’t been the only one willing to take the risk of passing through a tear in the network. All in the desperate hope you weren’t spat out somewhere inconveniently fatal.

When Higgins returned from settling Glastos into some guarded accommodation, Reynolds reached into his inner pocket and retrieved the half of a cigar he hadn’t finished earlier and lit it.

“Higgins.”

“Sir?”

“Get me everything you can on building a plexus gate.”

RR saw opportunity and plenty of it. It wasn’t just the potential bounty being offered by this slaver consortium to screw over Carter. There were a lot of desperate people out there, and desperate people would be willing to pay.

“Yes, sir.”

Reynolds chuckled to himself. People always underestimated him and his capacity to come out on top.

 

***

Crynn Shiptaker

 

 

Crynn slammed the door to her quarters closed and threw herself onto the comfortable mattress of the bed. She put the palms of her hands over her eyes and screamed in frustration and anguish.

The sound of the cabin door opening cut short the cathartic, if somewhat childish, tantrum. What happened in private was one thing, but the crew needed to see strength from their leader.

Nazz, her saurian first mate, closed the door gently behind her and strode across the room arching her eye-ridges in a knowing manner.

“You retired rather quickly after taking the ship, Crynn. Too quickly. Make a habit of this and the crew might start talking,” Nazz gently chided her.

“As if they aren’t doing that behind my back already,” she snorted in response. “Raxtel barely bothers to try and hide his mutinous talk anymore. I don’t suppose the Dominarius mercenaries did me a favour and killed the old orc bastard?”

“You aren’t that lucky.”

Typical.

When Crynn had disobeyed her father’s orders to return to the fleet and come to the quarantined plexus pathways around Earth everything had gone so well to begin with.

They’d pressganged plenty of bodies from the local outlaw groups and the pickings from that first wave of ships had been rich indeed. Nazz, the wily old campaigner that she was, found a fairly stable tear in the plexus away from the main thoroughfares. The lifeless moon it led to orbited around an uncivilised world. It made a great safe and hidden harbour to stow the vessels and prisoners they would accumulate.

They had targeted, boarded, and taken two or three ships a day for the first few weeks. Oh, but it had been glorious and Crynn had hardly been able to contain the grin on her face things had been going so well.

Her early estimate of presenting her father with two hundred captured vessels appeared to be massively conservative. Double, maybe even treble that number seemed likely.

Only it all went to shit when the second wave of fortune hunters had been riddled with well-armed and experienced mercenary groups in the employ of the Dominarius consortium. These groups didn’t advertise their allegiance and went out of their way to appear like regular land rushers.

The first merc group they fought had been a nasty shock. The second indicated a concerning pattern.

After that, they’d been forced to slow their attacks and spend more time identifying targets. The number of ships captured dropped from two or three a day to one a week. And despite all the extra time taken to sniff out their victims they still had days like today.

Mercenary ship number three. This lot didn’t even work for Dominarius. Other consortiums had got wind of what they were doing and had started to send their own armed parties.

The plunder was greater, but so was the cost.

“How bad were our losses?” Crynn asked.

“Most of the local chaff are dead. Thankfully, the disposables took the brunt of it. We lost six more of the crew proper, with another seventeen who will be spending a lot of time in the sick bay over the next month.”

Six may not sound like a lot, but it was six too many when they couldn’t be replaced. The locals could be if they were willing to head back to their hangouts, but the pickings would be much slimmer than the first time around for various reasons.

“What are your thoughts, Nazz?”

“We can’t go back to your father yet. Including the ship we’ve just taken; we have captured forty-two. That won’t be enough to excuse your disobedience. Replenishing the makeweights would take time we don’t have. Things have been slow enough as it is. We’ve attempted to recruit from among the prisoners but with little success. Most are expecting to be ransomed and aren’t willing to turn pirate. I don’t see how we’ve got any choice but to enslave some and make them fight for us.”

Crynn shook her head vigorously. “Collared crews are notoriously unreliable. Not only will they actively seek to disobey you, but if your enemy can uncollar them mid-battle, then all you’ve done is reinforce them.”

“Do we have a choice? Today has shown that even with due diligence, there are no guarantees we won’t encounter another mercenary company armed to the teeth.”

Crynn knew now was the time. “Nazz, there is something I haven’t told you. There is another Corsair faction in the region.”

“What? Are you sure? There has been nothing on the ship’s scans and no chatter via the usual channels.”

Crynn spent a few minutes informing Nazz what she knew of this faction and handed over the second data crystal she had received from DD and kept a secret from her saurian mentor.

“Your family and their blasted secrets,” Nazz clucked when Crynn was done. “I presume you’ve been scanning for Captain Carter’s fleet on the sly since we entered the region.”

Crynn sheepishly nodded in confirmation.

“And found nothing?” Nazz continued.

Another confirming nod.

“Well, they aren’t in the plexus pathways then. I taught you too well for you to have missed them.”

“What then?”

“Isn’t it obvious, child? The Shattered Storm have already found their way onto the planet. You’ve been looking in the wrong place.”

“That can’t be. Earth is still shrouded and there are no gates. Why would Carter take the risk of going through a tear when there are safer and more rewarding targets out here.”

“It’s possible that might not be true. There are no unshrouded gates, yes. However, if the Framework puts a gate on a shrouded planet rather than the locals building one, then it will remain shrouded for as long as the planet is. It’s very rare, but it does happen.”

Crynn’s hope crumbled and she flopped back down onto her back. “Then we’ll never find it.”

Nazz smiled. “Don’t count this wily old girl out yet. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. And if the Shattered Storm found a gate, you can be damn sure I’ll find it too.”

AN: There we are, the end of Book 3. You may have guessed by the accelerated chapter uploading that this is going to be published imminently. Probably the second week of March.

However, with the good comes the bad. You've been spoiled for the last month but now there will be a week's break (16th March) before my next posting. What you'll be getting then are chapters from a novella I've been writing that centres on Jackson as the MC. The events take place between book 3 and 4 of Corsairs and Cataclysms. That will be 8-10 chapters worth and then the book 4 stuff will make its debut.