Nexus of Chaos

Copyrighted Material Nexus of Chaos Copyright © 2023 by Variant Publications Book design and layout copyright © 2023 by JN Chaney This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney. www.jnchaney.com www.jonathanbrazee.com 1st Edition CONTENTS Don’t Miss Out Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Epilogue Glossary Nations, Independent Worlds, and Political Entities Within the Congress of Humanity Cast of Characters Acknowledgments Join the Conversation Connect with J.N. Chaney Connect with Jonathan P. Brazee About the Authors Don’t miss out on these exclusive perks: Instant access to free short stories from series like The Messenger, Starcaster, and more. Receive email updates for new releases and other news. Get notified when we run special deals on books and audiobooks. So, what are you waiting for? Enter your email address at the link below to stay in the loop. Click Here 1 Gunnery Sergeant Tomiko Reiser, Perseus Union Marine Corps, nudged her fellow gunny, Reverent Pelletier, with her elbow. “What?” Tomiko pointed up, and Rev lifted his head. A lone Sia was hovering about a thousand meters over the ceremony. “What’s it doing here?” Rev asked as a frown took over his face. He knew that the Sia were allies in the fight against the Naxli, and down in the front row were representatives of other allied races—no Centaurs, though. But he didn’t trust the floating aliens. Bad things seemed to happen when they were around. “Better yet, how did it get here?” Tomiko asked. “Probably the clickers. They keep their noses so far up the singers’ butts that they can’t tell if it’s day or night.” Tomiko cut off a chuckle as a civilian in front turned around to stare at them with a disapproving air. “A—do the clickers even have noses? And B—do the singers have asses?” she whispered. The Uauii—the “clickers”—didn’t have anything that could be called a nose, and the Sia—the “singers”—were more like a floating Portuguese man o’ war than anything else and didn’t have a butt as a bipedal being would have. “Figuratively speaking, Miko.” “You know that’s going to give any angel shits who see it an orgasm.” The civilian turned around again and shushed them. Tomiko mimed locking her lips with a key and putting the key in her pocket. Tomiko had a point with that. The Children of Angels thought the Sia were going to raise humanity to the next level, whatever that is. They’d probably take its appearance as a sign it was time. He gave the Sia one last look before shifting back down to the ceremony. They’d sat through fifty minutes of speeches as everyone from the CoH under-director of some minor government department to the mayor of Anastasia said what an honor the memorial was, how they’d fought for it, and blah-blah-blah. Rev didn’t mean to be dismissive. He’d come to the memorial three weeks ago, before it was officially opened, and it had been an emotionally charged experience. Looking down at the expanse of the structure, it was still moving. But he cast a cynical eye toward the politicians who were making it more about them and what they’d done to get the monument built rather than about the fallen whose names were engraved there. At least the speeches were over, and it was time for the actual dedication. A huge gold ribbon was wrapped around the entire monument. “You haven’t heard who’s cutting it?” Tomiko asked him. “Still no. Nobody’s come around to tell me during the ten minutes since you last asked me.” “Ha-effing-ha. I thought maybe Punch . . . ?” “Who knows no more than Pikachu.” But . . . “Punch? Anything?” <I would have told you, but no. This is being kept tighter than a One-Alpha message,> his AI battle buddy said. There was a collective shift in the several thousand spectators. News drones spun in unison to focus on the far-left side of the monument where a middle-aged woman, her arm intertwined with that of a Navy petty officer in her dress whites, was slowly advancing along the front of the memorial. “Who is she?” Tomiko asked. <I don’t have her in my data banks,> Punch said, not waiting for Rev to ask him. As a personal AI, Punch was not authorized to use facial recognition capabilities, nor did he have access to the government’s data banks of all citizens. He could only match from public media. So, the woman wasn’t someone in the public eye. That was about to change. While the memorial might not be a big deal off the planet, despite the presence of alien representatives, here, it was pretty big. And if the woman was going to cut the ribbon, she was about to become a local celebrity of sorts. The two women solemnly approached the VIP stand where the Safe Harbor governor was waiting. The sailor helped the older woman up onto the platform, then came to a position of attention behind it while she and the petty officer stood side-by-side and faced the spectators. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to our guest of honor, Ms. Formia Cadogan,” the announcer said. “Ms. Cadogan is a native and lifelong resident of Anastasia. She was married to Uriah Khan and raised six children.” “Was”