The Orphan Alliance (The Black Ships Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

sense.
    Lothbrok.
    Harry grinned. He looked around, seeing a fourth figure
approaching from behind. He wore the same cold weather cloak favored by the
locals but he dropped it to reveal the articulated plate armor of a Midgaard
EVA suit. He was an Alliance officer, and not just any officer. He had fought
by Harry’s side before, in a fight that had restored the noble status of the
Midgaard’s house in the process.
    “You’re supposed to be working,” the Lord of Beringsburg
called to him in Dheema. “And here I find you, enjoying the high life.”
    Harry laughed as he embraced his friend. The laugh echoed
through the stadium. The crowd would be curious at this new development and one
of the sound engineers had managed to pick up their conversation. The chanting
was still strong.
    He was struck by a sudden inspiration, a memory of a famous
fighter’s last words in this very arena. It was a speech that had been kept
alive through centuries of simmering insurgency. He spared a glance at the
three remaining convicts. The odds were too close to even now and they had
stopped their advance.
    “Oaxians,” he boomed, his voice amplified with no processing
delay at all. “You were free once, and proud.” He gazed around at the stands as
the cheering faded to near total silence. Then a buzz started to build as they
recognized the quote from Orontes’ last moments. He drew a deep breath and
shouted. “And you will be again!”
    There was the briefest of pauses, and then a half million
voices began to scream their approval. The sound sent tingles down Harry’s
spine.
    Lothbrok touched his wrist pad. “Now would be a perfect
time.” He said quietly, his voice not audible to the crowds who drowned out
even the amplified systems of the arena.
    Before Harry had a chance to wonder what Lothbrok was
talking about, a series of brilliant flashes drew his eyes upwards. The Dactari
station was a massive thing, visible in the evening sun and it was clearly
visible now, through the oculus, as it broke apart in fire and chaos. All
around it, the funeral pyres of the local security fleet marked the end of the
enemy presence. The stadium’s exterior cameras picked up the spectacle and
replayed it on the interior screens. Already whipped into a frenzy, the crowd
descended into complete chaos.
    Dactari guards around the perimeter of the sandy killing
grounds began backing away from the walls as Oaxians began to spill over the
barrier. The dividing line between spectator and fighter had been erased in the
anonymity of the mob, the spur of spectacle, the goad of ancient pride.
    A Midgaard shuttle dropped through the oculus like a
thunderbolt, coming to land ten feet away, its ramp already open. “This is your
moment,” Harry roared at the crowd and they loved him for it. He joined
Lothbrok on the ramp and they lifted off as it closed.
    “Gods, Harry! That was a brilliant bit of theater.” Lothbrok
clapped him on the shoulder. “I had a whole speech worked out but I don’t think
it would have had half the effect that you got with twelve words. Where did you
come up with it?”
    “One of their rebel leaders,” Harry said quietly. He looked
over at his friend. “You started them chanting our names?”
    “Of course. I started them on your name when you made your
first kill. By the second, it had spread to a quarter of the stadium, so I
yelled out that ‘Lothbrok would not let such a brave man die alone’ and I jumped
in.” He waved Harry to a seat. “Always get the crowd on your side if you plan
to make a public spectacle of yourself.”
    “I’m surprised they let you come after me.”
    “They didn’t,” he answered simply. “Towers gave me some
sympathetic goat’s droppings about risking thousands to save one good officer
and Caul just stood there and nodded. We came anyway.”
    “We?”
    “Carol brought the Völund . She took out the garrison
ships with those nasty little Mosquitoes of yours while my boys hit