“My problem,” Tabitha ground out, “is that I’m here on date night without my Gott Verdammt date.” She signaled the bartender with a wiggle of her fingers.
“Yeah, you and me both,” Scott commiserated.
Tabitha raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but trawling for a bar fight isn’t exactly the kind of night you and Cheryl Lynn would choose as a couples activity. Nothing adds a little spice to the evening activities than getting all sweaty beforehand.” She turned to the other side. “John knows what I mean, don’t you?” She dug an elbow into John’s side.
John smiled.
The Torcellan bartender made her way over and looked them up and down. “Oh, joy. Humans. I’ll warn you now that you’ll pay for any damages you cause.” Her disapproving frown melted away when they nodded, and she was all smiles. “Now, what can I get you?”
“Do you have a menu?” Tabitha asked.
The bartender reached under the bar and produced three menus. “Drinks?”
John grunted. “You got Coke?”
The Torcellan shook her head.
“Pepsi?” Scott asked.
She shook her head again. “No, we don’t trade in Federation goods around here. Local producers only.”
Tabitha looked up from the menu and tilted her head at the bartender. “Well, what do you have? Something that goes with…” She held the menu and pointed at an image of something that looked a little like a burger. The bun was red, but so was the meat and that suited her just fine.
She turned around and came back with three bottles. “Try this.”
Tabitha took one look at the familiar label and tried not to grin. “This will do, thanks.” Tabitha took a big swig and then, eyes open, turned to look at her companions before belching. She sent her thoughts directly to John and Scott. Let’s not tell her this came from a less-than-independent brewery.
All right with me, John agreed. Especially if this place ends up being the new Devon. Hey, Scott, maybe you can get Cheryl Lynn to set up an AGB here. This place hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat.
Tabitha snorted, spraying the bar in front of her with beer. The bartender looked at her and lifted an eyebrow.
Tabitha glared at her. “Yes?”
John put a hand on her arm. “Easy, wildcat.” He turned to the bartender, who had taken a step back. “Sorry about her. She gets cranky when she hasn’t eaten.”
And you can kiss my bodacious ass, Tabitha told him sweetly.
John ignored her. He gathered the menus and handed them back to the bartender. “We’ll all have the same.”
“And another round,” Scott added as he put his empty bottle down on the bar.
Getting up after they got their new drinks, they walked over to a table at the back with a beer in each hand and chatted until their food was brought to them by a waiter. The food on the plate looked a lot less appetizing than the picture on the menu had.
Tabitha picked her not-burger up and inhaled suspiciously. “Smells good, so I don’t need to care what it looks like…” She screwed her face up and took a bite, and her eyes popped as she chewed. “Oh, my…mffff.” She put the burger down and chewed with her eyes closed. “Ohhh, that’s good.”
She looked at John and Scott, who were watching her more than a little doubtfully. She pointed at their untouched food with her free hand. “You guys, eat the fucking burger, or I’m gonna.” She picked hers up and took another monster bite. “Sheershly, shh goog.”
John and Scott exchanged a shrug and grabbed their food. “Here goes nothing,” John murmured. His eyes declared his surprise that for once, or at least once recently, Tabitha wasn’t trying to surprise him.
Tabitha finished her last bite and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “So now we’ve eaten. Where do you guys wanna start looking?”
An angry voice from near the bar answered the question for them. They looked over to where a Shrillexian running his mouth sat at the end of the bar with a Noel-ni, a Baka, and two more Shrillexians.
“You can’t go anywhere on the planet these days without a bunch of humans showing up,” the speaker continued his tirade. “Damn vermin foul up every raid we plan. Can’t take slaves, can’t raid the mines for profit, can’t even keep what’s rightfully ours when we earned it through honest brute force. Not with the humans around. What are we going to do?”
The Noel-ni to his left shrugged, her lips drawn back in anger. “I dunno. All I know is that I signed onto this crew with the promise of much profit, and all our profit was taken back by the damned humans.”
The Shrillexian took a sip of his beer. Tabitha couldn’t figure out if his grimace was for the drink or the conversation. “How,” one of the Shrillexians asked, “is a mercenary supposed to profit?”
The loudmouth’s opinion was not unpopular. His companions cheered his vitriol, egging him on. “Melien is right. We don’t have to put up with this shit. He’s got a plan to get them gone. Did you hear him speak? He says the Federation is weak without their Bitch leading them, so we should cleanse this planet of humans once and for all. Take it back for ourselves.”
John’s easy grin faded. I believe we have our first contenders.
Just how many humans are here? Scott wondered. Sure sounds like they’ve been giving these assholes a hard time.
Tabitha tossed her napkin on the table and started to stand, but John gave her a minute shake of his head. Just wait. They’re part of a bigger group. We’ll follow them back, find this Melien, and take out the whole nest.
Tabitha stuck her tongue out at him but sat back down.
The Shrillexian banged his glass down on the bar and pushed his stool away with a loud scrape, startling the Torcellan barmaid. “I say we listen to Melien. We’ll take them out while they sleep. Who here is with me?”
The mercenaries in his group were with him. Then again, he’d been buying the drinks during the night.
The crew headed for the door in an undisciplined scramble.
Tabitha reached into the inside breast pocket of her coat and brought out three small spheres. She tossed them into the air in the general direction of the door and they took flight, trained in on the Shrillexian and his band of merry maladjusted.
The Noel-ni in the group spotted the hovering spheres and scanned the bar. When her eyes alighted on Tabitha she shrugged, then gave a shit-eating grin and flipped her off.
“Humans!” she hissed to her group.
Dammit, Tabbie! John growled and stood. We were supposed to let them get back to the leader.
The Shrillexian halted, his back to them. His fists clenched and unclenched a couple of times, and he spun to face them. His nostrils flared as he pushed a couple of chairs out of the way.
Then he charged.
Belv’th, Town on the Lakes, Salt Mine
K’aia tucked her back legs underneath her and tried to make herself as small as possible. Not an easy feat for a four-legged Yollin, and even less simple with the added bulk of the human body she was carrying. However, since the crack in the rocks was the only place she could find to hide from the guards, she did the best she could with what she had until they had passed and she could escape the mine.
She hadn’t been born a slave. She’d been stolen from her home farther along the coast and brought here to work in the salt mines. The work wasn’t difficult. In fact, she found it strangely cathartic to spend her days thinking while she chipped away at the salt deposits.
Hell, she even did extra so the weaker ones could get a break from the overseers. They didn’t care as long as the carts were filled just as fast, and she didn’t mind the labor. It was just her way.
She’d toiled without complaint for years beyond counting, but no longer.
She looked down at the bundle in her arms. Today the overseer had used the electro-whip on Barien, her only friend in this Empress-forsaken place. Barien had collapsed on the spot, his frail human body unable to take the voltage designed for much sturdier species, such as her own.
> Her friend’s death had caused something in K’aia to snap. She was meek by nature, and until today had been biddable and easy to control, much to her shame. But seeing Barien’s twitching corpse had broken her.
And it was for the better.
The overseer was dead now. K’aia had dashed over and snatched the lash out of the slave driver’s hand, and used it to scour the skin from his body. She’d shocked her slave collar with the tip of the lash to short the lock, disregarding the pain it caused, before wrapping Barien’s rapidly-cooling body in a tarp and running for her life.
K’aia knew if she could reach the human town then she would be safe. It was very well defended, and if she knew anything about humans, the people would take care of her friend’s funeral even though they weren’t related by blood. Then she would go and find her own people, if any remained.
All she had to do was make it out of the mine.
The bootsteps faded and K’aia risked a glance from her hiding place. The guards were gone. She reaffirmed her hold on Barien’s body and broke her cover.
Bethany Anne and Michael walked hand-in-hand along the sand between the lake shore and the cliff, heading for the town in the near distance. Bethany Anne let go of Michael’s hand and slipped her arm through his. “It’s not quite the barefoot stroll under the stars I’d imagined, but it is rather pretty here.”
Michael glanced at a construction on the cliff face up ahead, which looked to be the entrance to a mine. His nose wrinkled. “If you don’t mind the smell of salt.”
She smiled. “Nothing’s perfect.” They walked a ways farther before she spoke again. “It’s damn close, though. What do you—” She was interrupted by the sight of a four-legged Yollin running out of the mine. “What the…”
The Yollin galloped toward them at breakneck speed, only barely hanging onto what looked suspiciously like a wrapped corpse.
Her mandibles clicked furiously, and her carapace heaved with the effort of trying to breathe. “Humans, run! They will take you! Oh, bistok shit, you can’t understand me!”
Bethany Anne held up a hand. “We understand you just fine. Who is ‘they,’ who are you, and why are you carrying…” she sniffed as they came closer. “A dead human?”
The Yollin looked from Bethany Anne to Michael and back again. Her mandibles fell open in pure shock. “My Empress!” She bent awkwardly.
Bethany Anne waved her off. “Didn’t you hear? I’m not an empress anymore, thank fuck, and that bowing shit got old fast.”
The Yollin straightened. “I’m sorry, my Empress. I am K’aia, and this was my friend Barien. We were slaves, but I killed the overseer for killing Barien and escaped.”
Bethany Anne’s lip curled. “Slaves?” Her face darkened, and the color bled from her hair even as her teeth became suddenly much sharper.
K’aia took an involuntary step back at the sight of the Witch.
“My love.” Michael’s voice interrupted K’aia’s jumbled clicks.
Baba Yaga turned red eyes on Michael, who was gazing at the two score guards who had piled out of the mine entrance while they were talking with a gleam in his eyes.
She narrowed her eyes at the guards, her hands on her gun belt. She let out a throaty chuckle. “You see, my love? I told you we’d get a chance to let off a little steam.”
Michael made a sweeping gesture toward the guards. “After you, my love.”
K’aia wondered what she had stumbled into.
Belv’th, First City, Bazaar
Gabrielle, Eric, and Darryl walked under the covered arch into a rainbow of the neon lights. They were immediately assaulted by a million smells, colors, and sounds.
The people, a mix of species they knew and some they didn’t, pressed up against each other as they navigated the twisting paths between the stalls squeezed into every available space.
Darryl stared around in awe. “What the fuck is this place?”
Gabrielle smiled. “I remember markets like this back on Earth. Just follow my lead, and you’ll be fine. And make sure you’re actively repelling pickpockets.”
The crowd parted around her as she sashayed over to the nearest food vendor and began the delicate process of haggling for their dinner. She returned a few minutes later with three wrapped packages, which she shared.
Eric peeled the wrapper back. “What’ve we got?”
“No idea. I just bought what the guy in front of me had.” She shrugged, opened the wrapper, and sniffed. “Smells a little like a taco? Although if the street vendors here are like the ones I remember back on Earth, we might be glad of our nanocytes after eating them.”
They walked through the bazaar, keeping their eyes and ears peeled for suspicious activity. Eric threw his wrapper in a trashcan as he passed.
Gabrielle huffed. “How are we supposed to find the criminals here? Everyone whose mind I’ve read is here on some shady business or other. They are all criminals. The question is merely one of degree.”
Darryl nodded toward a rundown building. “What about there?” There was no signage to indicate what type of business it was. The windows were painted over, and the people around the doorway all had their faces covered.
Eric started for the building, calling over his shoulder, “You two coming, or are you gonna stand around talking about it all day?”
Gabrielle pulled her scarf up over her mouth. She shrugged at the look the Bitches gave her. “What? We want to blend in.”
They entered the building behind a group of nervous-smelling Torcellans who seemed out of place. The brightness and anonymity of the open market were instantly replaced by ambient lighting—wildly-colored in-your-face lighting.
Gabrielle smirked as a deep bass pulse sent a frisson of electricity to the pit of her stomach. “It’s a nightclub?”
Darryl grinned. “Well, Bethany Anne did say we had to explore. We wouldn’t want to do half a job.”
She clapped delightedly. “Exactly. And if there just happens to be a dance floor in our way, it would be rude not to follow the local customs while we are working.” She grabbed Eric’s hand and dragged him to the admissions desk, where an Ixtali took their entry fee and pressed a stamp to each of their hands.
They pushed through the heavy curtain to the main room beyond. It wasn’t quite the kind of nightclub they’d expected.
The ambiance of the lobby was replaced by almost total darkness. The only light came from the backlit podiums scattered throughout the room, and the roaming strobes that danced over the darkness.
Gabrielle drew a breath when two beams crossed in front of her, throwing a low couch into relief—as well as the knot of writhing, sweaty bodies upon it.
Eric spoke into his wife’s mind. You sure you wanna join in with the local customs?
She responded to his teasing with a soft sigh. Been there, done that. Perhaps in France, but I’m not admitting anything. Come on, boys. I’ve found someone we should talk to.
She slipped into the crowd, leaving Eric and Darryl to pick their jaws up from the floor.
Belv’th, Town on the Lakes, Salt Mine
The guards bunched in a half-circle about twenty feet away from the three of them. Neither human appeared the least bit fazed by the multitude of guards surrounding them with their electro-whips raised. In fact, if K’aia didn’t know better, she’d say they were equal parts pissed and excited by the violence the situation promised.
The mine owner, a Leath, stood behind his men and shouted over their heads, “Drop your weapons and surrender my Yollin, and I’ll let you go.”
Baba Yaga tilted her head and gave him a sharp grin over the top of the Jean Dukes Special in her right hand. “How about you drop yours, and I won’t kill every last motherfucking one of you slowly?”
You’re going to let them live?
Her laugh tickled the back of Michael’s mind. Like fuck. They’re all going to die horribly, although maybe not slowly, and then we’re going to free the rest of the slaves.
Wha
t about our young friend?
I have a feeling she will be eager to help out. She spoke into the Yollin’s mind. K’aia, do you feel like getting a little payback?
K’aia’s mandibles clicked rapidly in surprise. Of course, she had heard the legends and the rumors, but to be here and fight side-by-side with her?
She had never felt more Yollin.
She nodded at Baba Yaga and stepped away to place Barien’s body down reverently beside a tree, then moved to back up Baba Yaga and her consort.
Six guards stepped forward at an order from the mine owner.
Baba Yaga shook a finger at them. “Nuh-uh. Stay right where you are.” They didn’t, so she shot them as soon as they took the first step.
“What am I paying you for?” the Leath screamed in anger, pointing. “Get them, you fools!”
The guards surged forward.
Before K’aia had even dispatched the Zhyn who came at her, Baba Yaga had worked her way through them in a storm of kinetics and claws. A few made a break for the mine entrance, but one by one they jerked and fell as Michael calmly picked them off.
K’aia knocked away a Skaine with her bony elbow, then slashed him with the electro-whip she tore from his hand. “I hope you have no afterlife!” She crushed his head with her front foot and moved on to the next.
Baba Yaga opened a throat with her claws and stepped over the fallen body to get to the Leath, who was backing up with terror stamped across his features.
He slipped on the entrails of one of his ex-guards, landing heavily on his ass. He scrabbled backward with his feet, pointing at Baba Yaga with a shaky hand. “You have no power here! You can’t come into my place of business and start killing indiscriminately!”
Baba Yaga stalked over to him and picked him up by his thick neck. He struggled, trying to pull her fingers apart as he kicked the air.
She made a face as she felt his veins throb under her hand. “Who said it was indiscriminate?” She ended the conversation with a squeeze and dropped the dead Leath to the ground with a look of disgust. “I’m not even going to bury scum like that.”
Compelling Evidence Page 5