Imperial rogue, p.1
Imperial Rogue, page 1
IMPERIAL
ROGUE
Ashes of Empire #7
ERIC THOMSON
Imperial Rogue
Copyright 2025 Eric Thomson
First publishing November 2025
All rights reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the writing of this work. The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this publication to train AI technologies to generate text, including, without limitation, technologies capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
Published in Canada
By Sanddiver Books Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-998167-227
PART I – THE MISSION
— 1 —
Coraline
Unclaimed Space
Nothing. The entire trip had been wasted. So much for First Empire artifacts having survived, secreted away in the ancient fortress built long before Homo sapiens became the dominant life form on Earth. Hal Paget shook his head in disgust as he climbed out of the tiny passage leading to a small hidden storeroom. For six hours, he had searched the dark granite complex with his handheld sensor, only to discover a ghost. All he’d found scattered throughout the massive installation were two-hundred-and-fifty-year-old debris, the remains of a former garrison likely massacred by insurgents during the admirals’ revolt that triggered the old Empire’s collapse.
The murmur of many distant voices reached his ears, and he feared his time on Coraline was coming to a close. A preindustrial settlement lay several kilometers away, by a river snaking its way through the foothills and across the narrow plain where it drained into the ocean on the distant horizon. Surely the inhabitants had seen his starship land on the fortress roof and were even now coming to investigate. But in Paget’s experience, the chances of them being hostile were high. The primitive descendants of the Great Scouring’s few surviving victims on most worlds he’d visited viewed high-tech visitors with great suspicion, thanks to the tales of destruction raining from the sky passed through the generations.
Paget — one hundred and ninety centimeters tall, broad-shouldered, with thick dark hair, a bristling mustache, piercing blue eyes, and an aquiline nose above a firm, cleft chin — pocketed his sensor. He gave the bare room with its unidentifiable rubbish strewn across the floor a last look and headed for the stairs leading back to the roof. As he neared the staircase shaft, the voices grew louder, and they definitely sounded belligerent. He took the treads two at a time and quickly emerged back into the mid-afternoon sunshine.
When he approached the small, faster-than-light capable starship, looking for all the world like a giant, black bird of prey preparing to launch at an unseen quarry, a small ramp dropped from its belly, the AI which helped him run the vessel having detected his approach. He suddenly heard a flurry of footsteps behind him, and a slender figure wearing dark blue spacer coveralls dashed by and made for the ramp. Paget ran behind it, but the person reached the top of the ramp and vanished into the ship before he could catch up.
Paget drew his blaster from its hip holster and followed the stowaway-wannabe into the cool dimness of the ship’s belly airlock. He came face to face with a tall woman in her late thirties whose green eyes and snub nose dominated her narrow features. Short platinum-colored hair made a distinct contrast to her dark eyebrows and the liberal dusting of freckles covering her cheeks and chin.
The stare she gave him was half fear and half defiance.
“I’m coming with you,” she said in a husky tone that quivered just a little.
“What makes you think—” But before Paget could complete his question, shouts erupted behind him, and he saw her eyes widen.
Paget turned, and the sight of a mob carrying spears, swords, and other sharp implements rushing toward the ramp made him snap, “Marlene, button her up. NOW.”
The ramp lifted almost immediately, sealing them in.
“Okay. I guess you’re coming with me. But you’re staying right here for now. I need to lift off, stat. Sit or lie down on the deck for takeoff.”
Paget stepped around her and passed through the inner airlock doors, shutting them behind him before she reacted. He rushed to the tiny bridge at the heart of the ship, rattling off orders for the AI, and by the time he slipped into his seat at the controls, the thrusters were spooling up with a sharp whine. A view of the exterior on the primary display showed the mob retreating to the head of the stairs, driven away by the unnatural sound, but still shaking their weapons angrily. They looked like a ragged bunch, with homespun clothes, long hair, unkempt beards, and open mouths revealing rotten teeth. Paget shuddered at the thought of the stench they must carry around with them, a foul miasma capable of triggering nausea.
Then, the ship lifted off vertically and, once it reached a hundred meters above the fortress rooftop, its vector changed to a forward motion, nose lifting at a sharp angle as it headed back toward space. Paget could feel the g-force pushing him back in his seat, and he quickly flipped the view to that of the airlock, hoping the woman was supine or sitting in a corner. He felt a stab of relief at seeing her flat on her back, eyes closed, chest moving with slow regularity as she breathed normally. He figured the spacer’s coveralls and the ship's landing traces on the rooftop meant she had probably been marooned on Coraline in the last day or two by her ship. She didn’t seem emaciated or overly dirty, meaning she hadn’t been there long.
But he knew she had quite a story to tell.
The ship eventually settled into orbit so Paget could make sure everything was all right and prepare for the lengthy trip to his next destination, since Coraline had proved barren. Or at least the ancient fortress had, and it was the sole surviving structure from the First Empire days still standing. Of course, it had been part of the landscape for over a hundred thousand years, untouched by erosion or the passage of time. The L’Taung era Shrehari who built it, knew what they were doing, yet they vanished with the contents long ago, leaving only small anchor holes where they had attached things to the walls and ceilings.
He went aft and down to the lower deck and released his passenger from the airlock.
“I’m Hal Paget,” he said, studying her with impassive eyes as she climbed to her feet. He didn’t offer his hand, and neither did she.
“Sela Reeve.” She returned his gaze with a stony one of her own.
“Tell me, Sela, who did you piss off to get marooned on a primitive world like Coraline?”
“Who says they marooned me?” Maybe I got lost, and they had to leave without me.”
Paget raised his eyebrows as he exhaled. “Seeing as how you’re aboard my ship and I saved your life, I’d say you owe me honesty.”
He turned on his heels. “Let’s head for the galley and some tucker. I figure you probably haven’t eaten recently.”
She followed him silently and sat at the single table in the small compartment while Paget popped two food trays into the autochef.
“Nice ship you have,” Reeve said when he turned around and leaned against the sole counter running the length of the galley. “A single-hander?”
“Yes. She’s called Marlene and has a sophisticated AI helping me, one I’ve baptized Marlene for obvious reasons. Say hi to Sela Reeve, Marlene.”
“Hello, Sela Reeve,” a low, disembodied female voice said, the sound coming seemingly from everywhere.
Reeve scowled, and after a while, she replied, “Hi.”
“Not a fan of AIs, are you?” Paget asked, amusement dancing on his square face.
“I prefer a fully human team, if it’s the same to you.”
“Well, Marlene is an integral part of my crew, and so as long as you’re aboard my ship, you’ll need to put up with her.”
An amused expression crept across Reeve’s face.
“Her? If you hadn’t noticed, you’re anthropomorphizing your ship’s AI. That can’t be healthy for a man in his prime like you.”
“Never mind my mental health. Why were you marooned on Coraline?”
Reeve briefly glanced away and sighed. “I pissed off most of the crew by the time we landed, and they left me two days ago. I hid when the villagers showed up with their spears and swords and prayed another ship would show up.”
“How did you annoy them?” The autochef chimed. Paget withdrew both trays and brought them to the table, then sat across from Reeve.
“Oh, the usual. I have a talent for it and regularly get left behind, except this time, they didn’t wait until we touched a civilized world.”
Paget popped a piece of reconstituted meat into his mouth and chewed while observing Reeve and trying to see behind the touchy facade she presented.
“How many ships did you serve on?”
“Hinksford was my eleventh in twenty-one years.”
Paget’s eyebrows shot up. “A little under two years in each? That’s pretty short. You must really be a piece of work, Sela Reeve.”
“What can I say? I’m a wizard in engineering, but I like to play by my own rules.” She spear ed a chunk from her tray and nibbled on it while watching Paget with a smug look on her face.
“And those rules seem to include the item won’t play well with others. What are you? Late thirties? You should have learned better by now.”
“Thirty-nine, actually. And I like myself just the way I am.”
Paget shrugged. “It’s your life. Live it the way you want, so long as you’re ready to deal with the fallout. You’re damned lucky I showed up and didn’t have a chance to chuck you off my ship. What were you doing in the L’Taung era fortress, anyway?”
“Looking for stuff from the old Empire we could sell on.”
He nodded. “Scavengers.”
“Salvagers.”
“Let me guess, Hinksford is an ancient tub on the verge of falling apart and has a dozen crew tops.”
“Yep. And without me, it won’t last quite as long as the skipper would like. Such as returning to a friendly port.”
“Oh. Vital crewmember, were you?”
She smirked. “The chief engineer was drunk or high most of the time, and since there were only two of us in engineering, guess what’ll happen to that heap of junk now?”
“Did they find anything in the fortress?”
A nod. “Yep. A box of old data crystals from the First Empire in a small, hidden chamber on the third floor from the top. Must have been fifty of the crystals in that crate. Should fetch a decent price on the black market.”
Paget figured it was the same chamber in which he’d seen a sensor ghost and silently cursed his arriving two days too late. “And where will they try to sell it?”
“Probably the nearest Imperial world.”
“Not in the Republic.”
Reeve blew a raspberry. “No way Hinksford is ever going back there.”
“Back? You mean you’re from the Republic?”
“Yep. Born and raised on Yotai.”
“And why is your former ship not returning there?”
She chuckled. “Because they’re renegades with a price on their heads.”
“You got a price on yours as well?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because President Derik Juska, bless his shriveled black heart, doesn’t like unlicensed salvagers. In fact, he doesn’t like anything that’s not under the Republic’s control.”
“So, Juska is still running the place.”
“And will until the day he dies, whether it’s in his bed or from a knife in the back. Plenty of folks would like to see him go either way, but he’s a wily old rat and will probably remain president for another thirty or forty years. I gather you’re an Imperial, then?”
Paget winked at her. “Have been ever since the Hegemony declared itself the Second Empire five years ago. And funnily enough, we have a different president now, his predecessor having retired at the end of her term of office. Does the Republic still even have elections?”
Reeve shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care.”
“I suppose you’re always too busy finding your next ship.”
She made an obscene gesture at Paget, causing him to let out a bark of laughter. “Be nicer to me. I could always space you and save on the food expenditure and environmental systems usage.”
Reeve gave him a speculative glance. “I doubt you’re the type to space people who haven’t done you any harm.”
“How would you know? I could be a psychopath who can’t see you as a human being.”
“Having met my share of those over the years, I don’t think you are one.” She paused to take a sip of water. “So what’s the plan, Captain?”
— 2 —
“What now indeed?” Paget sat back and contemplated Reeve, who was putting on a patently false air of innocence. “I suppose I could always dump you back on Coraline and wish you luck.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“No, I suppose not. But I’m not returning to civilization for a few weeks, or even months, so you’re stuck aboard Marlene.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a certain number of scoured former human planets to visit on this run.”
“What for?”
“I look for certain artifacts from the First Empire and survey fallen worlds to determine their population and level of technology.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You work for the Imperial government?”
Paget hesitated, wondering how much he should tell her, and a smile spread across Reeve’s face.
“You’re employed by the Second Empire. Otherwise, you wouldn’t dither about answering me.”
“What if I do?”
“It means this ship isn’t yours, is it?” Reeve looked around and asked, “Marlene, who do you belong to?”
“I cannot answer that question,” the disembodied voice replied before Paget could intervene.
“Yep, you’re an Imperial ship.”
He rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. I work for the government. Satisfied?”
She grinned at him. “Yep. So, I’m stuck with you for a while, am I?”
“Yes, and you’ll earn your keep.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever I tell you to. You mentioned being a starship engineer by trade. Any formal education in that field.”
“No. I joined my first ship as a simple deckhand the day after I turned eighteen, and my parents kicked me out. From there on, everything I learned, I did so the hard way — on the job. But I’m a competent, if self-taught, starship engineer and can fix most things that go wrong on small FTL and wormhole-capable craft.”
Paget climbed to his feet, grabbed the trays, and put them in the recycler, then he turned to Reeve.
“Let me take you on a tour of Marlene so you can familiarize yourself with her inner workings.”
Reeve stood. “I’m yours to command, oh Captain, my Captain. By the way, your ship has a strange name for a government vessel. I’ve never heard of any bearing a woman’s first name. Nor a man’s, for that matter.”
He grinned at her. “That’s because I changed her name when I took over. She was a pirate ship taken by the Navy and outfitted as a long-range reconnaissance craft. Marlene was a woman who left me at the altar ten years ago, and I figured my best revenge was riding her namesake and ordering it around. That way I can say I’m always inside Marlene.”
Reeve let out a guffaw. “Nice.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Is it a true story, though?”
Paget gave her a sidelong gaze. “No. I’ve never been left at the altar and don’t know any human being named Marlene. The Navy gave her the name when they brought her into service as an auxiliary vessel. I guess whoever did it figured people would believe no naval ship could bear such a name and write her off as another tramp running beyond the frontiers. But you have to admit, it is an amusing story.”
As he led her down a circular metallic staircase, she said, “You’re Navy. You have to be. They wouldn’t give a nice little ship like this to a civilian spacer. What’s your rank?”
He remained silent for a few moments, then sighed. “Lieutenant Commander.”
“Mighty high for someone running a single-hander.”
“I volunteered, if you must know.”
“Not much for spending time with other humans, are you?” She asked in a droll tone.
“Like you?”
“Why do you say that?”
Paget ushered her through an airtight door and into Marlene’s engineering compartment proper.
“Because I’m an excellent judge of character, and I’ve decided your troubles with previous crews were because of a distinct dislike of others.” He gestured at the consoles and displays dominating the small space. “Everything is automated, and the AI controls it.”
“Until the AI craps out and half of these stations turn red.” Reeve pivoted on her heels to take in the entirety of the compartment. “Then, you’ll be fucked.”
“Hasn’t happened in the two and a half years since we’ve been exploring the Empire’s outer rim.”
“Doesn’t mean it won’t. The longer a starship runs, the greater its chances of something breaking.”
“Marlene gets a refit once a year.”
She gave him an ironic smile. “Hurray for you! I’ve never actually been aboard a ship that went into refit. All of the ones I’ve been on were run until something major threatened to fuck up. Not that any of them did, mostly thanks to me.”
