She snickered. No.
I have not forgotten an anniversary of some sort?
Baba Yaga’s dark chuckle cut the night, giving the advancing hordes pause. Her inner voice was all Bethany Anne. No, dear. Can’t a wife just spoil her husband every now and then? Just feel for the energy. You should be able to keep pulling it once you start. Just don’t go too far.
The air around Michael began to crackle as he shaped the energy to his will. I love that you knew I needed this. He looked at his wife, who was wearing what he secretly termed her “hotness from hell” face.
She shrugged barely imperceptibly in the almost-darkness. You deserve a release. I have been riding you pretty hard about the dinosaur thing.
She held a finger up, and then with a wave of the same hand flung the ball of Etheric energy she made appear into some nearby mercenaries. However, that is not an endorsement. I’m not budging on it.
I didn’t think you would. Forked lightning streaked from Michael’s hands to the sky, causing three more ships to explode in midair. One of the ships took out two others on its descent.
Baba Yaga had an idea. I saw something interesting last time I was in the Dome…
Oh yes?
Can you throw sheet lightning?
I can certainly try. What do you have in mind?
She volleyed energy balls at a pair of ships that were trying to use the wreckage of the others to evade destruction. We need to clear some space to work, she told him as the ships crashed to the ground.
Michael’s eyes alighted on a group of mercenaries who were using a downed ship as cover to take potshots at them. Ineffective, but annoying. Not for long.
Tabitha strutted into the shipyard.
Every second step she took, she fired and a mercenary dropped. “Will you two get a fucking room already? It’s been bad enough with the love-fest back at the base.” A loud shot followed the snarky comment from behind them, turning a nearby Leath’s head into a fine spray. She patted the rifle fondly. “I knew Gracie here was worth the effort of pounding the shit out of that Shrillexian.”
John and Eric appeared a moment later, followed by Gabrielle. Scott and Darryl brought up the rear. They moved as one across the shipyard, taking out clusters of mercenaries as they worked their way to the platform.
“Good of you to join us,” Baba Yaga snarked aloud. “Now if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you can all keep these assholes off us while we have a little fun grounding those ships?”
They got to work clearing the ground, and Baba Yaga and Michael turned their eyes to the skies.
New Devon, Above Mercenary Compound Number Two, Lead Ship The Reaver
The company commander swiveled his chair from one side of the bridge to the other, mouth agape. Electricity rent the air below the ship, and the commander stared in disbelief as his fleet and the ships of his allies were destroyed in rippling volleys of light. “What the holy hell is happening down there?”
None of the stations answered.
“Somebody fucking tell me something!” he roared. “Who are these assholes? Why aren’t we dropping kinetics on them?”
A youngish Noel-ni turned in his chair. “I can tell you, but you won’t believe me.”
The commander was apoplectic by this point. “Well?”
The Noel-ni nodded. “They are humans, sir. There appear to be eight of them.”
“Eight? You’re telling me that just eight humans did all this?” The commander swept a hand toward the viewscreen, where the partially liquefied remains of his life’s achievement sat at a strange angle to the ground.
The Noel-ni shook his head. “I’m telling you that one of the humans did that.”
“One?” the commander whispered. “Who are these humans?”
“I have footage if you want to see it, sir.”
The commander nodded blankly.
The viewscreen changed from the bird’s eye view of the ruined compound to a vid of it in its earlier condition from a lower angle. Two kinetics hit the compound, and the tiny ship landed. The door opened and the soldiers fell to the ground, and then the human emerged.
“Freeze it there,” the commander told Communications. He couldn’t make out the features with the resolution, only the red eyes set in inky-black skin. “Zoom in on the face.”
The communications officer turned in her seat. “Commander, we’re being contacted.”
The commander snarled. “Ignore it! Ready the kinetics, and show me that face!”
“Umm, sir?”
Every soul on the bridge stared at the screen when it suddenly filled with red eyes and far too many teeth.
The commander howled with rage and began to gesticulate wildly at the screen. “You…you…”
“Me, what?” the face asked.
“You are the human below,” he finished lamely.
ArchAngel snickered, which looked terrifying on Baba Yaga’s face. “Okay, we’ll go with that.”
The commander pushed away the chill that laugh caused to run down his spine. “You will all die for what you’ve done,” he told the human on the screen. “You can’t just come here and—”
The human interrupted with a growl and a flash of its red eyes. “Oh great, we have a monologuer. How fucking boring. Save it, asshole. I have no time to waste on scum like you. I have a job to do.”
The commander, unused to being spoken to with anything less than deference, drew himself up and gestured to the tech to return his feed to the ground below. She looked at him and shook her head. He turned to weapons and got the nod that the kinetics were ready to be released.
The human’s face shifted. “It’s almost sweet. You think you have a chance.”
Was that… Was it laughing at him? The commander matched the human’s smug expression with a smarmy grin of his own. “You are hardly in a position to mock since we are up here with all the weaponry and you are down there with no way of defending against it.”
“That’s just priceless! Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” The human let out a cold laugh, and The Reaver shuddered.
The commander started as the bridge was inundated with alarms and warning lights. “What the fuck was that?”
All amusement faded from the human’s face in an instant. “If you had paid more attention to where you were going instead of where you’d been, let’s just say you might have avoided this outcome.”
The human was suddenly gone, and the screen returned to showing the outside of the ship. The clouds ahead disgorged a massive ship, its deadly lines cutting the air as it drew closer.
The face of death replaced the wave of projectiles on the screen. “Then again, my Queen did order extreme prejudice. Sucks to be a scumbag today. Later, assholes!”
The human vanished, and the commander came to his senses just as the kinetics hit his ship. The Reaver bucked and twisted under the continued barrage, and he fell to his knees as his ship screamed its death throes. It was too late for him.
For the whole crew.
The klaxons wailed, cutting off any chance of a final coherent thought before his ship disintegrated.
The ArchAngel II sliced through the falling debris toward the surface. As she came in to hover above the burning conflagration below, she heard her mother curse.
“Fucksticks! How did one get away?”
Chapter Eight
New Devon, First City, Mercenary Compound Number Two
Baba Yaga stood with one boot on the large mercenary’s chest. She leaned over to ensure that the Shrillexian heard her clearly. “I don’t care what the fuck planet you came from. I don’t even care how things used to work around here. This is how they work now.”
Baba Yaga read the crowd’s agitation. This was way beyond anything they’d ever experienced. Most were just ordinary citizens, and they were afraid and angry. They gathered in front of the compound and the human who had just bitch-slapped a full-sized Shrillexian into submission.
“You can’t just com
e here and start telling us how to live! This was why we left the fucking Empire in the first place—to get away from the likes of you.”
Baba Yaga gave the speaker credit for bravery. However, she wasn’t going to let him know that.
She turned her impassive gaze on him, tilting her head slightly. “That is exactly what I am doing, so spread the word.” She raised her voice so all could hear. “It’s my way or the highway, so shut the fuck up or ship out of here, because the old ways are done. Your decision to live like it’s the Wild-fucking-West has cost the last innocent person their life.” She swept an accusing hand over the crowd. “You are all to blame, so listen up. I am the Mistress of this planet now, and I will run it as I see fit. As it is, I see no issue with most of it. If you all want to spend your lives fucking, fighting, and getting high instead of building something you can be proud of, it’s your life to waste. However, there will be no slave trade on New Devon, and the fights will be fair.”
Whispers went through the crowd.
“New Devon?”
“There’s already a Devon. It’s a worse shithole than this place.”
“Whatever. It’s a no-go zone now.” The Zhyn who’d spoken looked at Baba Yaga, then at the kind of familiar looking humans in her guard. Recognition hit, and the Zhyn began to edge backward.
The Witch held up a hand containing a ball of energy that was still bright even against the encroaching dawn. “It is perfectly obvious that you cannot rule yourselves.”
A protest rippled through the crowd at that.
Baba Yaga raised the hand. “ENOUGH! You allowed the slavers to take control. Your illusion of freedom was just that—a fantasy. My rule will not be complicated since on my planets there is only one rule.” She pushed fear and sent the ball of energy into the air to dissipate and rain down on the crowd as she spoke.
“Do not piss me off.”
Above New Devon, QBS ArchAngel II, Bethany Anne’s Quarters
Bethany Anne looked down at the gore encrusting her from head-to-thigh. Her boots, however, were still clean. She smiled at them fondly as she pulled them off one at a time, then made a face when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. “I need a shower.”
She opened the door to her bathroom just as Michael emerged wearing clean, loose clothing.
He grinned disarmingly as he dried his hair with one of her soft towels. “I am wondering why your bathroom is much better equipped than mine?”
Bethany Anne left a bloody kiss-print on his cheek as she slipped past him. “Queen’s privileges, my love. I’ll see you in the meeting room when I’m done.”
As the hot water pounded the battle aches away, she considered exactly how much effort she wanted to put into managing a whole other planet. The answer was, not much at all.
She would put in some structure—basic laws, for one—but otherwise, she would honor her word and allow things to run mostly as they had before. Besides, the vibe here was just right for the rebels she’d promised to take care of.
New Devon was wild, but now she’d cleaned out the worst of the rat nests it was the right kind of wild.
Bethany Anne tapped the table with her fingers. “Okay, so we’ve cleaned up the pirate playground.”
“Mercenary,” John corrected.
She arched an eyebrow. “Close enough. Now, what’s next for this place? How do we get it running to meet our needs without interfering too much with the basic structure of the society here?” She looked around the table. “Tabitha.”
Tabitha looked around in surprise. “Why’re you asking me? I enforced the law for a hell of a lot longer than I spent breaking it.” She sniffed and went back to picking through the fruit bowl on the table. “But I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to put a little regulation on those fights.”
Bethany Anne resumed tapping her fingers on the table. “If they’re regulated, and we turn prizefighting into a desirable career, there would be less reason to join the mercenaries.” She looked at Michael. “Do I remember you talking about something like that?”
He nodded. “This is exactly why I wanted to establish some kind of entertainment industry on High Tortuga. If the people are focused on feeling good, they’re not focused on the minor gripes that cumulatively lead to dissent.”
“True,” Gabrielle agreed. “It would be a good thing to have a Guardian Marine presence on-world, though. I know we haven’t seen the last of the slave traders.”
Bethany Anne frowned. “Yeah, I don’t like that a few of them got away.”
John grunted unconcernedly. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll track them down.”
Tabitha folded her arms. “Well, whoever comes here next will take care of them.” She nodded toward Bethany Anne and Gabrielle. “We’ve got a shopping date.”
High Tortuga, Space Fleet Base, Hangar Bay
The hangar was a hive of activity as the first rotation of Guardian Marines prepared to deploy to New Devon.
Bethany Anne pointed out one of the shuttle bays, where Sabine, Jacqueline, Mark, and Ricole waited near the shuttle with barely concealed impatience to be on their way.
“Come on, already!” Sabine’s voice carried across the hangar.
Ricole paced in front of the Pod.
Michael turned to Bethany Anne. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Bethany Anne nodded, already sidetracked by a bunch of people needing her attention. She held a finger up, then pointed at Michael. “You have until he’s done, then we’re going to see our children.”
Sabine turned at Michael’s touch on her shoulder. “You four are going to New Devon?”
Mark was reasonably cool, but Jacqueline’s energy was almost tangible in its intensity. Ricole’s eyes roamed the hangar, watching the shuttles leave with longing.
Sabine grinned, her eyes dark with anticipation. “Where else? It is actually the five of us. We are just waiting on Demon.”
Demon is here. The enhanced mountain lion padded into sight, eighty kilos of solid tawny muscle. The crowd parted before her as she sauntered toward them, tail flicking slowly from side to side. She sat down beside Michael and tilted her chin imperiously. Let the hunt commence.
Sabine and the others grabbed their gear and began to load the shuttle while Demon affected boredom.
Michael smiled to himself. He enjoyed the cat’s dry snark immensely. She’d come a long way from the twitchy wreck she’d been when he’d rescued her from a lab back on Earth. “How are you, Demon? Have you had any good hunting lately?”
Demon lifted a velvet paw and flicked out four needle-sharp claws. Plenty. This planet is full of creatures that don’t know well enough to fear me. I have been more than able to feed myself here.
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Then why go to New Devon?”
Demon languidly stood when Sabine waved her over. Because I want to fight.
High Tortuga, Space Fleet Base, Queen’s Suite
Jean was reading on the couch when they returned.
Bethany Anne had left John and Michael behind and breezed straight through to the nursery to see the children without even stopping to greet Jean. She paused at the door when she saw them curled up fast asleep together on the beanbag.
Michael peered at them over her shoulder when he caught up. “Seems a shame to wake them.”
Bethany Anne looked at the freeze-frame of Baba Yaga at the back of the room and her brow knitted. “I think they can sleep a few minutes more. I need to have a word with Jean.” She turned and marched back to the living area.
Michael glanced at the screen, then at the children. He shrugged and pulled the door closed in case the children were awakened by their mother tearing their aunt a new one for whatever it was Bethany Anne thought Jean had done.
When he returned to the living area, Bethany Anne was standing in front of Jean with her hands on her hips. John stood behind Bethany Anne, shaking his head to tell her to take it seriously. He looked from one to the other. “What is the issue?”
/> Bethany Anne pointed at Jean, her voice a low hiss. “She showed our children footage of the fight!”
Jean shook her head. “It wasn’t raw footage.”
Bethany Anne glared. “So you aren’t the only one I should be pissed at. Phyrro, how could you let this happen?”
The EI’s avatar appeared on the wallscreen. “I was rather skeptical about allowing the children access to the footage, but Jean made a good argument for me permitting them to watch. I did edit the footage.” Phyrro played the nursery-cam footage of the twins’ reactions. “I believe they learned something important from the experience.”
Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes at the screen. “You’re not getting away with it that easily,” she told Jean.
“What, like you did?” Jean grinned. “Seriously, lighten up! I wouldn’t have let them see anything they shouldn’t. They learned where they come from tonight, BA. They were damn proud of you both.”
Bethany Anne pursed her lips, not entirely convinced. “We’re not done talking about this.” She turned to Michael. “Let’s get the children back into their beds.”
They made their way back to the nursery. Alexis stirred as Bethany Anne gently worked her arms underneath the girl to lift her. Her daughter wrapped her arms around her mother instinctively as she picked her up.
Michael picked Gabriel up, and they took the children to their beds. Bethany Anne ducked to enter Alexis’ Pod-crib.
The motion was enough to wake her for a brief moment. “Mommy, are you and Daddy home from your date now?”
Bethany Anne gazed into her daughter’s eyes, unable, as she always was when she looked at her children, to believe that she and Michael had created such wonder. “Yes, sweetie. Daddy and I are home. I believe you saw some of what Daddy and I did tonight. Were you or Gabriel scared?”
Alexis laughed and clung tighter to Bethany Anne, nuzzling into her neck. “No, Mommy. But you’re much prettier without your makeup on.” She yawned and her eyelashes fluttered closed. “I love you, Mommy.”
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