Sten had fully expected to die in a blaze of glory, taking his Emperor's greatest foe with him. Instead he was a slave laborer in a POW camp deep in the heart of enemy territory. But sitting out the action had never been Sten's style. And now that the war was building to a climax, the Eternal Emperor needed him more than ever. Not even the toughest prison in the known universe could keep Sten from his mission.
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STEN #5
REVENGE OF THE DAMNED
By Allan Cole & Chris Bunch
CHAPTER ONE
HE TUGGED AT the last piece of rabble, wincing as rough masonry
bit into soft fingertips. Straining under the weight, he lifted it to knee
height, then staggered a few paces and dropped the mass onto a pile.
Senior Captain (Intelligence) Lo Prek stepped back to review his
work. Only a large, twisted steel door remained. The Tahn officer had labored
for hours clearing that door. Beyond it, he hoped, was the key to the puzzle he
had been fitting together for more years than he cared to remember.
He hesitated a few minutes as if afraid that he would be
disappointed. Almost daintily, Prek wiped his face with a silk handkerchief,
which he then returned to his uniform sleeve. For a Tahn, Prek was a tall man
and painfully slender. His body was all angles of jutting bone topped by a long
horse-like face with small eyes set too far apart and a short nose that left
him with an overly long upper lip.
Prek unclipped a small laser torch from his harness and began
cutting through the door. Prek was not the kind of man who hummed to himself
while he worked or who used a string of favorite obscenities when the task
became momentarily difficult. At his former post, where he had worked for
almost his entire career, he had been notorious—even among Tahn—for insisting
on absolute silence and complete dedication to even the smallest job. He did
not allow his mind to wander when performing rote and insisted on the same from
his underlings. The joke at his old bureau was that if Prek had his way, every
intelligence clerk would have a monitor surgically implanted in his brain as a
requirement for employment.
Prek had heard the joke, and although he did not see any humor in
it, he acknowledged its truth. Captain Prek knew he had an obsessive personality.
He did not particularly like it or dislike it. It was just so. It was a
character weakness that he had learned to use to his benefit.
There was a shriek of metal as the door sagged under its own
weight and then crashed to the floor. Prek reclipped the torch and stepped
inside the record center of the Imperial Navy's defeated 23rd Fleet. If the
Tahn had gods, Prek would have whispered a prayer. He had traveled very far and
taken many chances to come to this point. If Prek was correct, in this room he
would pick up the trail of the man who had murdered his brother.
STEN, (NI). Commander Imperial Navy. Last known post: OIC, 23rd
Division TacDiv, asngd Imperial 23rd Fleet. Prev: Cmdr, Imperial Personal
Bodyguard. Prev: Records show assigned to various Guards units. NOTE: IntelEst
these records fraudulent, prob Cat. 1. STEN actually assigned various Imperial
Intelligence duties. GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Species: Human. Sex: Male. Age:
Unknown. Records destroyed. Estimated first quarter of life span. Place of Birth:
Unknown. Height: Slightly below Imperial norm. Body: Well formed, low body fat,
high muscle ratio. Hair: Blk. Eyes: Blk. General Health: Excellent.
Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: None. Family: Unknown. Interests:
Unknown. Friends: Unknown.
Prek was not dismayed when he saw the shattered ruins inside. File
vaults had been twisted into bizarre shapes by intense heat. There were large
spots of white ash scattered uniformly about where office dividers and
furniture had once stood. As he walked, his boots stirred up a fine dust that
drifted upward and clogged his nose and throat. He fitted a rebreather into
place and began combing through the litter of what had once been the 23rd Fleet.
Once his heart jumped when he found a tiny scrap of microfilm
lying under a steel joist. He slid it into the slot of his reader and then felt
like crying when he saw that it was nothing more than part of a bill for
general office supplies.
Prek berated himself for his reaction. Yes, his mission was
personal. But his only hope for success was if he behaved like a complete
professional.
Prek was not dismayed when he saw the shattered ruins inside. File
vaults had been twisted into bizarre shapes by intense heat. There were large
spots of white ash scattered uniformly about where office dividers and
furniture had once stood. As he walked, his boots stirred up a fine dust that
drifted upward and clogged his nose and throat. He fitted a rebreather
into place and began combing through the litter of what had once been the 23rd Fleet.
Once his heart jumped when he found a tiny scrap of microfiche
lying under a steel joist. He slid it into a slot of his reader and then felt
like crying when he saw that it was nothing more than a part of a bill for
general office supplies.
Prek berated himself for his reaction. Yes, his mission was
personal. But his only hope for success was if he behaved like a complete
professional
Prek reorganized himself. He went all the way back to the
beginning—to the outlines of what might have been the desk of the chief clerk
of the records center. He began sifting through the rubble, starting in the
middle and slowly working out to the edges. He was looking for much more than
the chance minutiae of one man's life, he reminded himself. Even more valuable
would be to discover the pattern of record storage. Prek knew that every office
had its own individual logic. Things might have changed over the years as chief
clerks came and went, but there would always be the trace of the first being
who had received and filed the first and then the second and then the
thousandth document.
The Tahn captain was convinced that once he had determined the
procedural map, he would find his man.
Although they had worked in private industry, Prek's parents had
also been lifelong bureaucrats. They had been equally dull in personality and
unattractive in appearance. True, they had both been intelligent people, but
their intelligence was what a personnel psych might have called "highly
focused." Prek was ten years old when his brother, Thuy, was born. From
the moment the infant had drawn its first breath, the family knew it was
blessed with a golden boy.
Thuy was everything his family was not. To begin with, he was
beautiful. Blond, curly hair. Blue eyes. And a physique like an Adonis even as
he entered puberty. He was quick-witted and consumed with curiosity about
everything. Thuy also saw humor in nearly any situation. It was hard to be
around him long and not be infected by his cheery outlook on life.
Far from being jealous, Lo had loved his young brother more than
anything in the world. He had lavished all his attention on him, going so far
as to strap himself financially so that the boy could have the benefit of the
very best education the Tahn System could offer.
The investment had proved to be well placed. Thuy was instantly
snapped up by the diplomatic corps, a situation that allowed him to blossom
even more. The only arguments any of his superiors had ever had concerning him
was who the young Tahn's mentor really was.
And so, when the delicate peace negotiations with the Eternal
Emperor were undertaken, Thuy had instantly been assigned to accompany Lord
Kirghiz and the other Tahn representatives as a junior diplomatic officer. It
was to be a career assignment, which everyone agreed would be just the
beginning of a rich career.
The Imperial and Tahn fleets met under the blinding pulsar shadow
of NG 467H. The initial negotiations went quickly and well. Everyone believed
that an agreement beneficial to the Tahn was only a formality away. The Eternal
Emperor had invited the Tahn dignitaries aboard for a treaty celebration. Lord
Kirghiz had quickly picked the Tahn who would accompany them. Included among
them had been Thuy.
No Tahn knew what exactly had transpired next.
Prek believed the facts spoke for themselves.
Every Tahn who had boarded the Normandie died in a horrible bloodbath as they
sat at the Emperor's banquet table.
The Eternal Emperor, through his toady judges and special
prosecutors, had claimed that the Tahn had merely been the tragic victims of a
plot against himself. As far as any Tahn—especially Prek—was concerned, that
was too obvious a lie even to comment on. And the only answer to the lie and
the treachery was a war of vengeance. It was a war to the death, to the last
ounce of air and the last drop of blood.
It was a war that Prek believed in as intensely as did every other
Tahn. But the larger war merely underscored his own private battle.
Prek did not remember when he had learned of his brother's death.
He had been sitting in his office at Tahn Intelligence headquarters, and his
superior had entered. The next thing he knew, Lo found himself sitting up in a
hospital bed. Four months had passed. During that time, he was told, he had
been a virtual catatonic. War was at hand, and so Lo had been declared
"cured" and sent back to work.
It was then that his private war began. Prek examined every dot of
information surrounding the deaths of his brother and the other Tahn diplomats.
And gradually he had determined which beings had been responsible. He had not
included the Emperor. That would be pointless. To go for the Emperor would be
not only impossible but the act of an insane man. No. Go for the possible: the
men who had actually wielded the knives or fired the guns. Sten, Prek firmly
believed, was one of those men.
He had obtained a copy of Sten's military record, a tissue of
lies, he was sure, but at least a beginning point in forming a profile of the
man. The official record showed a man who had held a series of slightly above
average posts, who had won a little more than his share of military awards and
honors, and who had been promoted regularly. Then, suddenly, for no apparent
reason, his career had taken a sharp upturn. For no readily apparent reason, he
had been appointed head of the Emperor's bodyguards. That had been followed by
another sudden shift from the army to the navy and a promotion to commander.
Prek believed the promotion was because of special service to the
Emperor. Sten's record was a fake. Actually, Prek thought, Sten had been a
valued intelligence agent. The shift to the navy and, ultimately, to his
command of four tacships had been a reward for services rendered. Those services,
Prek was sure, included the murder of his brother.
Prek had tracked Sten forward to the final battle for Cavite City,
where enormous casualties had been suffered on both sides. Tahn records
indicated that Sten had probably died in that battle, although his remains had
never been found. There had been some out-of-the-ordinary official effort to
determine Sten's fate because of "criminal actions instigated by said
Imperial officer" prior to the battle for Cavite.
Prek did not believe Sten was dead. His profile showed him to be a
man who would do anything to survive. Prek also did not believe that Sten was
serving elsewhere. He was an officer who would always be in the forefront of
battle, and he was also the kind of hero the Eternal Emperor liked to feed into
his propaganda machine.
No. Sten was alive. And Prek was determined to run him to the
ground. He would find the man and then… The Tahn brushed that thought from his
mind. He could not allow emotion to interfere with the hunt.
Senior Captain (Intelligence) Lo Prek was right.
Sten was alive.
NEXT: STEN # 6 THE RETURN OF THE EMPEROR
*****
ALL THREE STEN OMNIBUS EDITIONS NOW ON TAP
The entire 8-novel landmark science fiction series is now being presented in three three giant omnibus editions from Orbit Books. The First - BATTLECRY - features the first three books in the series: Sten #1; Sten #2 -The Wolf Worlds; and Sten #3, The Court Of A Thousand Suns. Next: JUGGERNAUT, which features Sten #4, Fleet Of The Damned; Sten #5, Revenge Of The Damned; and Sten #6, The Return Of The Emperor. Finally, there's DEATHMATCH, which contains Sten #6, Vortex; and Sten #7, End Of Empire. Click on the highlighted titles to buy the books. Plus, if you are a resident of The United Kingdom, you can download Kindle versions of the Omnibus editions. Which is one clot of a deal!
Here's the Kindle link for BATTLECRY
Here's the Kindle link for JUGGERNAUT
Here's the Kindle link for DEATHMATCH
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HERE ARE ALL EIGHT AMERICAN EDITIONS OF STEN
YOU CAN BUY THE TRADE PAPERBACKS, E-BOOKS AND AUDIO BOOKS BY CLICKING ON THE STEN PAGE!
*****
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK
Two new companion editions to the international best-selling Sten series. In the first, learn the Emperor's most closely held cooking secrets. In the other, Sten unleashes his shaggy-dog joke cracking sidekick, Alex Kilgour. Both available as trade paperbacks or in all major e-book flavors. Click here to tickle your funny bone or sizzle your palate.
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IT'S A BOOK!
THE COMPLETE HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES!
*****
TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE
 |
| Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969 |
In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is "The Blue Meanie," a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book.
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Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four
episodes. Part One and Part Two appeared in back-to-back issues. And now Part Three has hit the virtual book stands. Stay tuned, for the grand conclusion. Meanwhile, here are the links to the first three parts. Remember, it's free!
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