by Sarah Noffke
CONTENTS
LMBPN Publishing
Dedication
Legal
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Author Notes - Sarah Noffke
Sarah's Sci-fi Paranormal Series
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Acknowledgements
About Sarah Noffke
Michael Anderle Series List
Michael Anderle Social
RECOLLECTION
The Ghost Squadron Book 6
By Sarah Noffke and Michael Anderle
A part of
The Kurtherian Gambit Universe
Written and Created
by Michael Anderle
DEDICATION
For Lydia. My greatest treasure in the universe.
-Sarah
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live the Life We Are
Called.
- Michael
RECOLLECTION Team Includes
JIT Beta Readers - From all of us, our deepest gratitude!
Dr. James Caplan
Peter Manis
Tim Bischoff
Joshua Ahles
Tim Adams
Sarah Weir
Kelly Bowerman
Kim Boyer
Micky Cocker
Larry Omans
If we missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
Jen McDonnell
RECOLLECTION (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Sarah Noffke, Michael T. Anderle, and Craig Martelle
Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, April 2018
The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015 - 2018 by Michael T. Anderle.
CHAPTER ONE
Scowotz, Nexus, Tangki System
The axe spiraled through the air and sunk into the tree trunk, inches from the ogre’s face. The tyrant roared, his beady eyes murderous as he glared at the tribe around him. They grunted back, brandishing their axes, ready to throw.
This definitely wasn’t the safest place on Nexus, Verdok thought. He’d been searching the planet, trying to determine where Kyra had sent the boy with the mohawk, the last known person to hold the Tangle Thief. Shapeshifting, Verdok had assumed dozens of forms as he searched, and he was no closer than when he started.
The goon that Verdok had been punishing charged away from the tree, his large feet thundering across the forest floor. He pushed both smaller and larger tribe members down as he headed straight for Verdok, an ugly grimace on his flat face.
Smoke from the many fires wafted through the camp, where the primitive race on Scowotz huddled in leather tents or washed their wool clothes in a nearby stream. Verdok, having taken on the appearance of the savage race’s leader, sat cross-legged, the black smoke making his eyes burn with irritation. Around him, several of the tribe’s males stood, their stance protective. They had no idea that their trusted leader was lying face down in the river, where Verdok had left him.
Those from Nexus, Verdok had found, appeared almost human-like, except they were larger and had distinct differences in their mental and physical capabilities. For instance, this race from Scowotz all had larger heads and poor verbal skills. They were flat footed and nearly toeless, which gave them horrible balance. However, they made up for this with incredible strength and superior height. Even the females were all over six feet tall.
The giant pointed his fat finger in Verdok’s direction. “You! Me! Now!”
It had been like this since Verdok had taken on the form of the chief leader. He was constantly tested for his position. They were an ugly race that relied on brutish skills instead of democracy. No wonder this race is dying off. Well, also they slept in tents with dirt floors and never bathed.
The putrid smell of the males that charged by Verdok to defend him nearly made him pass out. He picked up the axe closest to him and jumped to a standing position. The chief was easily the largest in the tribe, which was obviously how he’d taken the role. Brandishing the axe over his head, he swung it from side to side, the way he’d seen one of the other males do before battle, obviously an attempt at intimidation. Verdok, as a shapeshifter, was unmatched in his ability to quickly pick up the behaviors of the entity he was impersonating.
The chief’s supporters jumped back, hooting deeply. The male who had been about to challenge dropped his chest down, his long arms dangling by his sides and knuckles brushing the ground. The giant grunted, his long hair hanging loosely in his face. Verdok swept his own mop of curly dreadlocks off his shoulders.
This race lived in the overcast north of Nexus for a reason. Their red hair and sensitive skin wouldn’t fare well on the southern continents, which Verdok had already searched finding wide open beaches and dark-skinned races who basked in the sun from morning until night.
The savage beat his chest, not at all deterred by Verdok’s show of intimidation. Although weapons weren’t something he was comfortable with, he’d watched the males of this tribe long enough to know that they never fought fearfully.
When his arm swung around, Verdok let go of the axe and it spiraled through the air, end over end, until it struck the beast in the chest. The giant’s thick hands reached for the axe lodged in his torso and froze before they connected with the handle. The crowd fell silent. The tribe members looked around with uncertainty. They grunted to each other, a babbling that grew in intensity as the giant stood frozen, his shocked gaze on the instrument protruding from his chest.
The brute gulped, and blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. This seemed to invigorate the crowd, their grunting growing in volume. The challenger stumbled forward several paces. Verdok didn’t move, even when his attacker was close, only five yards away. The beast rocked back on his heels, like he was thinking be
tter of the decision to charge, but then he steped forward, falling face-first on the axe.
The crowd cheered wildly, many of them throwing their meaty fists into the air. Verdok didn’t even grant the fallen tribesman a glance before turning to the rest of his tribe.
“Clear off!” he yelled. “There’s work to be done. Get to it!”
The crowd silenced at once, many of them looking at one another like they didn’t fully understand the order. Shrugging their enormous shoulders, they slowly dispersed. The men filed back in the direction of their tents, or toward the stream where the females were cleaning and gathering water. The surprise on their faces told Verdok that a leader usually celebrated after a victory when being challenged. However, Verdok didn’t care. He was only looking for an excuse to get as far from this primitive tribe as possible. The boy with the black mohawk hadn’t been here.
He turned and trudged purposefully in the opposite direction, not even caring that many of the tribe members were giving him curious glances.
When he’d passed through a thicket of trees, Verdok slipped into his original form, enjoying the feel of his own skin. His scales were green and camouflaged into the forest nicely. Once he’d traveled into the cave he’d made his temporary home base, Verdok’s mouth began to salivate. He’d hardly been able to tolerate the charred meat that the females of the Scowotz had offered him. The animal, whatever it was, had been roasted over a hot fire for too long, and the meat had no flavor. He needed something fresh. Something with its blood still flowing.
When Verdok slipped into the cave, the familiar smell of prey filled his nostrils. The firelight danced across the cave walls, but Verdok ignored the nuisance. As a shapeshifter, Verdok adapted easily to his environment, even when not taking on the appearance of another. The Petigrens were warm-blooded animals and needed the fire to survive, especially in this cold region.
Three Petigrens scurried around the open cave, as Verdok slithered into the area and coiled his long tail around his body. They looked up startled, moving backward before correcting themselves and bowing low. Their instinct told them to fear him, but it was their law that told the Petigrens to serve Verdok. A law that the Saverus had created.
“Master! Master!” the Petigrens said in unison between clucking noises. They scurried around, picking up rocks and then dropping them. Digging into satchels while looking around bewildered. The Petigrens were the size of small men, but they had the ears, whiskers and facial features of a mouse. Tufts of hair grew in random places on their faces and body.
“Were you successful?” the first Petigren asked, bringing forward a bowl of fresh water.
Verdok ignored the offering and instead appraised the Petigren. The three had traveled with him for a week now, although when he had set out, he’d had twice the number. He might need more Petigrens soon.
“I was not, unless determining where the boy has not been is considered progress,” Verdok said.
Another Petigren rushed forward, sliding down to his knees and bowing his head. “Are you hungry, master? It would be my honor to gather food for you.”
Verdok considered the offer. The Petigrens weren’t horrible hunters, but usually what they came back with was small and unfulfilling.
“I’ll eat in a moment,” he said, feeling dirty after his short stint with the disgusting tribe.
“I ventured into the town at the bottom of the mountain,” the third Petigren said nonchalantly. Verdok spun around, his yellow eyes widening. “You did what? I told you not to leave the cave.”
“I realize that, but I figured I could be of use to you,” the Petigren stated, kneeling beside the fire, scratching at the dirt and kindling as though trying to make a bed out of the stuff.
“How did you have such a mistaken notion?” Verdok asked, swaying back and forth, his form stretching tall. Across the cave wall, the shadow of Verdok danced.
The Petigren hiccupped. “I simply went to the village and asked for help.”
“You what?” Verdok nearly exploded.
“I said that I needed a safe place, the safest,” the Petigren stuttered. The other two were now huddled together by the far wall.
Verdok didn’t say anything, instead he watched the Petigren shuffle nervously.
“As a vulnerable race, they didn’t question my requests for safety,” the Petigren explained, continuing. “And you said that the boy was sent to a safe place.”
“I did,” Verdok said, revolving to face the other two, who seemed to wet themselves from the eye contact. “Apparently, you don’t have a pea-sized brain like your brothers.”
“I assure you, we can think when allowed,” the rebellious Petigren said, regaining Verdok’s attention.
“What did you learn? Or did you only attract unnecessary attention to yourself?” Verdok asked.
The Petigren hiccupped and scuttled forward on all fours before rising to stand in front of Verdok. “I learned that there are many safe places on Nexus. The planet is considered mostly peaceful.”
Verdok’s forked tongue slipped from his mouth. “That’s not helpful. I’ve garnered that much information over the last several days.”
“But I heard rumor of a place considered safer than all the rest,” the Petigren stammered, visibly shaking, but still holding his chin upright.
“Go on,” Verdok demanded.
“The people in the village said that, for those who pose no threat, the inhabitants of Sunex welcome them into their borders,” the Petigren stated, hiccupping still. “They don’t allow savages, like those in Scowotz, or other bullies or predator types. However, they will protect those who can’t protect themselves. The people are supposed to be very peaceful, and the land absent of any dangers.”
Verdok mused on the idea. That does seem like the safest place on Nexus. Can it possibly be where the hologram sent the kid with the Tangle Thief?
“Did I do well, Master?” the Petigren asked, not at all cowering now. “Did I prove my worth to you?”
So that was what this Petigren was after? He was trying to prove he was more than a pile of bait or a servant to the Saverus.
Verdok swiveled to face the other Petigren, cowering in the corner. Even shivering in fear, they looked interested to see how this bold behavior would be interpreted. Verdok had to set a precedent. This Petigren’s behavior could have far reaching effects. He’d made himself useful by finding valuable information.
Verdok whipped around in a blur and struck the rebellious Petigren, sinking his razor-sharp fangs into the middle of its body. The rat-like man froze, his entire form rigid with fear and adrenaline. He began to convulse in Verdok’s wide jaws, which clenched his body tightly, not allowing him to move.
From Verdok’s peripheral, he spotted the usual fear from the other Petigrens as they watched one of their kind being struck. But this death served a purpose. The Petigrens were allowed to be mildly useful. They were allowed to sacrifice themselves in battle for the Saverus or to feed the greater species. But they served the Saverus. They did as they were told. What they didn’t do was go off on their own and find valuable information that would in turn make them more powerful.
Verdok’s body wound tighter around the stiff Petigren, constricting until it was in the perfect position. Then Verdok released his fangs, but kept his jaw wide as he slipped his mouth over the Petigren’s head, swallowing it whole.
CHAPTER TWO
Brig, Ricky Bobby, Tangki System
Eddie paced back and forth in front of the bars of the cell. They’d had this area of the brig cleared out of any other prisoners, knowing that was for the best. On the other side of the metal bars, his partner, Commander Julianna Fregin, stared back at him, a doleful expression in her eyes.
“Eddie, how much longer are you going to keep me in here?” Julianna said, her tone seeking to cut him. “I love you, and you’ve locked me away. What? Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid of my love?”
Unable to control himself, Eddie launched his fist in
to the wall as he strode the other way. The metal of the ship crunched, caving in from the assault.
“I realize you’re angry, but I’m not trying to hurt you,” Julianna pleaded.
“Dammit! Shut up!” Eddie yelled, heat rushing to his head.
Julianna covered her face, weeping from behind the cold, metal bars. “Why are you so hostile? All I seem to do is disappoint you. No matter what I do, it doesn’t matter.”
Eddie gritted his teeth together, pressed his fingers into his palms. I am stronger than this, he told himself.
“Tell me what I want to know!” Eddie yelled, his breath hot, spilling over his lips.
Julianna pulled her hands away from her eyes, tears streaming down her red cheeks. She grabbed the bars on either side of her face. “I love you, Eddie. I love you.”
Eddie let out a guttural scream, feeling the metal deck reverberate under his feet.
The door to the brig shot open, and Julianna, the real one, stepped through. She halted at the sight of her doppelganger behind the bars, her eyes narrowed. She halted beside Eddie, shaking her head.
“She’s fucking crying,” Julianna stated. “Please tell me you’re not falling for that bullshit.”
Eddie pressed his hand to his forehead, shaking his head back and forth. “It’s hard not to. It gets into your mind, and you forget what’s real and what isn’t. This isn’t something easy to compute.”
Julianna pulled her pistol from her holster and aimed it directly at the Saverus on the other side of the bars.
The monster held up its hands, real fear in its eyes. “You wouldn’t shoot yourself, would you?” the Saverus asked.