Might Makes Right

by Michael Anderle

“Well, yes.” It wasn’t the best situation, but it had helped the morale of his fighters to send that out to the universe. Those Etheric fighters were damned hard to kill, but apparently enough rounds would do the job.

  It was a great training video, if nothing else.

  Prime Intelligence Two continued his questioning. “Do you know much about the Etheric Empress, Prime Quarter Leader?”

  Being smart, Conclek left out his opinion of politicians and kept to what he knew. “She has a reputation for being unable to keep her anger in check.”

  “That is all?” he asked, his voice smooth.

  “That is enough,” Conclek replied. “I’m sorry, but leaders who can’t control their emotions will eventually do something very stupid. We will be there to make her regret it.”

  “That’s all,” the Ixtali slowly stood up from the table, “I needed to hear.” He nodded to the three sitting. “Contact me, should you need me again.” Turning, he started toward the door, pausing briefly to stare at Conclek. “You should get your affairs in order.” He opened the door and stepped out.

  The door closed behind him with a gentle click.

  Conclek looked back at the Leath still at the table, confused. “Am I being punished?”

  “Not by us,” First Line Prime Commander told him. “But you will be dead, nonetheless. I’m sending you back to Merrek to reap what your people have sown. We can’t get any more troops to Merrek in time to make much of a difference, and our Intelligence knows the Empress has sent someone to the planet.”

  “Someone?” Conclek asked. “How can one person make much of a difference?”

  Prime Intelligence One clarified, “It is a small group, maybe five to ten total. But it includes the one they call…”

  The Ixtali Ze’mek started walking away from the door, not needing to hear more of the conversation. He was well aware of who was heading toward Merrek, and he wanted to be on the other end of the galaxy for a while.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Empress’ Quarters

  Bethany Anne caressed the wooden box, running her hand across its smooth sides before sliding it to the two clasps on the front.

  Each opened with a snap.

  Lifting the top back on its hinges, she enjoyed the caress of the low light on the silver blade inside for a moment. Then, gently, she pulled out the katana, turning it to the left and then to the right as she examined the cutting edge. Satisfied, she reached for the sheath and slid the blade home.

  ADAM, is this suit fully charged, and do we have full connectivity for the sensor circuits?

  >>Yes, Bethany Anne.<<

  Backup armor?

  >>Yes, Bethany Anne.<<

  Plenty of ammo?

  >>Yes, Bethany Anne.<<

  Reaching forward, she grabbed her holsters and slid first her right arm, then her left through the holsters’ loops and locked the rig in place. Reaching to the right, she grabbed first one, then the second of her two Jean Dukes Specials with their armor-piercing rounds.

  After she’d locked them both in place, she touched a button on her right leg. The ridge along her leg opened and slid apart. A small hilt slid upward for Bethany Anne to grasp and remove. Lifting it, she sank her emotions into the Etheric and pulled.

  The blade sprang into being, the red glow along its three-foot edge humming as if in anger. When she cut off the energy the blade disappeared, leaving her with only the hilt. She slapped it back on the clip and it slid back into the armor on her right leg, the ridge sealing again.

  She looked over her shoulder. “John?”

  “Yes, boss?” his somber voice replied.

  “Do you have extra slots for grenades?”

  John chuckled. “BA, I always have slots for my little friends.”

  “Good to know.” She turned back to the armaments in front of her. Given the sheer weight the five of them could carry, it was effectively a toy store for grown boys and girls—and Bethany Anne was fully grown.

  And mad as hell.

  ADAM cut in.

  >> General Reynolds is asking what the target for this operation is?<<

  Tell him the planet Merrek.

  >>He says he knows that much. Where specifically?<< ADAM asked after a moment.

  Bethany Anne grabbed a gear bag and started filling it. That task completed, she stepped out of her weapons room.

  Tell him the whole Gott Verdammt planet.

  >>Oh.<<

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds

  There were black bands wrapped around the Guardians’ and Guardian Marines’ arms. Each had seen the video shared by the Leath with the multi-system news agencies, and anger burned in every human and Yollin in the units.

  Practice time had doubled, and the fighting units’ desire to get to Merrek was thick enough that Kiel could cut it with a dull knife.

  The rumor was the Empress was sending her Avatar, Baba Yaga, to the planet, and all remaining Guardians would accompany her.

  Kiel had told them to practice hard so they could get a bit of their own back, and they had.

  Shipyard staff started signing up for double-shifts. Those on the planet sent gifts, wrote songs, and performed plays in cities all over the world. Those on the space stations wore black armbands in support and memory of those who had been disrespected on a foreign planet.

  And all watched and waited for the Empress’ response.

  It was Yollins and humans… No, it was Etherians who had been disrespected, and the entire Empire was ready to provide the response.

  With interest.

  —

  Bethany Anne looked in her mirror. Do it, TOM.

  This is going to hurt like a sonofabitch.

  DO. IT.

  Not on the way to Merrek? We would have more time.

  Which part of “DO IT” don’t you understand?

  The screaming part, he replied.

  The pain hit. Torture rampaged throughout her body as TOM forced the modifications through her nanocytes, pulling raw power from the Etheric to make the changes she’d requested.

  John checked on her when he heard the whimpers she couldn’t hold in and watched in fascination as she changed. Her jet-black hair turned white—pure white. Her skin morphed to black leather, and her eyes were now white orbs with red irises.

  She had told her people to suit up in black armor, not red.

  Her hands grasped the countertop, squeezing hard to deflect her attention from the sheer hell moving through her body.

  Then it was over.

  Her body convulsed, bucking back and forth for a moment as she and TOM fought to keep her body upright.

  “I got...” she croaked, her voice a rough whisper, “this.”

  She slowly straightened up. John stayed in place, but even he had to stop himself from taking an involuntary step back when she looked at him.

  “I see the Queen Bitch has upgraded her look,” he commented. “Or is this someone else?”

  Her voice was deep, raspy; neither that of the Empress nor the Queen Bitch.

  “The Queen Bitch is an angry Bethany Anne.” She headed out of the room toward the bedroom of her suite. “This is my alter ego Baba Yaga, the Witch of the Night.”

  She picked up her bag of weapons and the two people disappeared from her suite, her last comment drifting in the silence.

  “Also known as Death.”

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, the Open Court

  The anger roiling through the multiple stories was palpable. The Meredith Reynolds was almost over-full. There was a path that led from the hallway beside All Guns Blazing to the exit to the space docks.

  First the news had been whispered, then the Guardians and Guardian Marines, black bands around their arms, had flooded into the bottom level, the Food Court, and made a lane.

  Then others rarely seen in the outer docks strode into the Open Court. Yollins from the space stations, Yollins from the planet.

  A few ships from Straiphus, and miners from the aster
oids.

  There was a whisper that she was going to be there. The rumor? The Witch—the one the Empress sent into the universe to strike for the Empire.

  To scare those who thought fear was their personal weapon. She reclaimed it.

  She had white hair, the stories said, and her eyes would glow like the Empress' own. Many said she was the sister of the Empress, or a demon friend.

  Some whispered it was the Empress—her darker half.

  When asked, Empress Bethany Anne would only say that might didn't always make right, and even the mighty could fall to the Witch of the Night.

  Baba Yaga.

  But this person had never been seen, so the stories were just that.

  Stories.

  They said she had six who traveled with her, where the Empress had only four. Six who killed with and for her. The roster changed as to who would go, as the Empress commanded.

  Baba Yaga and the Six Horsemen, one human had joked. But someone else had changed it to Baba Yaga and the Shinigami, and that had stuck.

  A hush fell over the crowd, and then a strange feeling came over them. Their anger turned to caution as they looked at each other, not knowing what to expect as the Guardians locked arms below them.

  —

  John, Eric, Darryl, and Scott had their helmets on, and their black armor’s matte finish drank in the light. Two more armor-clad men joined them. John nodded. "Stephen, Peter," he acknowledged through their suits’ comms.

  "Death." Peter's voice was light, playing off what the team had code-named John.

  "Where is Baba?" Stephen asked, then shook his head. "Never mind."

  No one needed to be told when Baba Yaga would arrive. The fear she was pushing had increased, and they could feel her coming closer. Bethany Anne had decided to play her role to the hilt. She had agreed that those outside the Empire couldn't know the Empress would be sucked away again, as she had been to support the Yaree.

  So she had created a new version of herself, an Avatar—one she was ready to christen with the sacrifices of those who defiled her fallen. Her people.

  Her Guardians.

  Stephen has been asked to stand in for Akio, Bethany Anne sent, her mental voice rough in their minds. Let’s go, she told them, and started walking out of the hallway.

  The six Shinigami swept into motion behind her, striding side by side.

  Bethany Anne had told John that no one needed to protect Baba Yaga, but he itched to get ahead of her anyway. Not that it mattered; Reynolds was watching this event to make sure no one tried to attack Bethany Anne.

  —

  In the second row, behind those who formed the front line on the main floor, stood a younger Yollin male. He had signed up a few years ago, and had been through Guardian training. He had been planet-side supporting the Guardians’ recruitment efforts when the first hastily-pulled-together teams had been sent to Merrek, and it had pissed him off.

  He needed to go, and soon. No one should treat the dead as his fellow Guardians had been treated, and he was ready to explain that clearly by shoving his rifle down the throat of a Leath and pulling the trigger. In solidarity, he linked arms with a human to his left and another Yollin to his right. He had hoped to see the Empress and John Grimes and the others on the floor, but the whisper was she was sending the Witch.

  He snorted. He had seen the Empress' videos, so he wasn't sure if sending someone else was going to do much. He was still considering this when fear struck him. He noticed that his compatriots’ muscles locked, as did his. He craned his neck to see Baba Yaga walk out of the hallway with the six Shinigami behind her.

  Drk-vaen locked his limbs in place, but the sweat coming off his forehead betrayed the lie; he was afraid. A quick glance around the floor showed him he wasn’t the only one.

  Where the Empress was beautiful, Baba Yaga was hideous, for a human. Where the Empress was fun and light unless she was angry, Baba Yaga was born of fear. The Empress had dark hair, but Baba Yaga’s white filaments floated on the wind, making her appear as a vision of Death who walked in the light.

  Where she shouldn’t be.

  The Shinigami behind her (not that Drk-vaen knew what the name meant, but he had been told it translated as “death gods” so he chose to believe it) radiated resolute death.

  The Leath had angered the Empress, and now the Empress was sending her response. Baba Yaga didn’t stop to speak as the Empress would. She swept across the floor, her black face surrounding sharp white teeth and white eyes with red irises and walked toward the…

  “Holy shit!” the human beside Drk-vaen yelped.

  Baba Yaga had disappeared, and so had the Shinigami. Collective breaths of surprise and relief when the fear disappeared swept the multiple levels of the Open Court.

  Soon enough, thousands all over the court realized the pictures and videos of Baba Yaga and the Shinigami on their tablets had been corrupted. No one had a recording of any kind. The Witch of the Night remained only a story.

  But this time, thousands of Etherians and others from multiple star systems all told the same story.

  Baba Yaga was real, and she was Death.

  Drk-vaen almost felt sorry for the Leath on that planet, but after he had watched the video one more time, he decided the Empress had made the right call. She had called upon Death and pointed her toward Merrek.

  And the Leath were about to die.

  Planet Merrek

  “Confirming that all Etherians have been pulled from this planet,” Bethany Anne asked as the Tramp Princess dove toward the planet.

  In space, ArchAngel and the renamed Alexander were facing off against four of the Leath superdreadnoughts, with both sides having an assortment of other large ships on their flanks.

  The Leath weren’t sure what the humans were up to, but they had confirmed there were no troops on the planet now, to the best of their knowledge.

  So they brought in upper-level politicians to create a message for their PR machine, which was being broadcast across the planet.

  Then Darkness rolled over the planet, and a new video showed up. It spoke seven languages, one of them Leath.

  The video featured a dark background with an even darker figure speaking, glints of her white hair appearing on the outer fringes. The voice was gravelly, but the message was clear.

  In seven languages, it claimed it had arrived with the Darkness. Nothing would save them; they were cut off. Baba Yaga was here.

  It was time they met their gods in the afterlife.

  Planet Merrek, Minor Continent, Outside Zone 02-3433

  “The weather is horrible,” Se’zal grumped as he ate his food while sitting on a large rock. He turned to Chanto, who was picking up his own food. “You think that Bobo Yaha is going to dare show its face here?”

  “What?” Chanto asked as he opened his pouch. “And it’s Baba Yaga, and I wouldn’t know. However,” he pointed his eating utensil at his friend, “we are the ones who made the video, so if she’s real, what do you think?”

  “I think—” he began, and then stopped talking, his head having disappeared in a splash of color.

  The Leath contingent had been reinforced from the twenty-eight survivors back up to a complement of sixty-four when Bethany Anne and the Shinigami surrounded them.

  They had no clue. A total of five messages had been sent to Command saying they were under fire and taking casualties when suddenly all communications from their location ceased and Command could no longer raise them.

  There were only seven moving bodies remaining, and all were human.

  Images which could be matched to the videos sent to the news agencies were forwarded to ArchAngel. The Shinigami had been videoed, but you never saw the face of Baba Yaga. In one picture you could make out her black leather-like hands and in another the back of her head with her floating white hair could be seen, but that was it.

  The group finished their job, encircled the white-haired Witch, and disappeared. Above, the ship waiting for them tur
ned toward the east and vanished.

  Planet Merrek, Leath Command Center

  Prime Quarter Leader Conclek ground his teeth, his tusks rubbing on his lips. “Are you telling me,” he snarled, “that we have lost seventeen support outposts in six days?”

  Conclek listened to the incoming report and took a few deep breaths before responding, “Well, pull the other twenty into five groups, increase the guards, and have everyone hunker down. We will make that Bitch Witch come to us.” He closed the connection and turned to his aide. “Somebody get me a connection to those shits up in space!”

  —

  Bethany Anne watched as the Leath detachments started moving to centralized locations. She scratched her normal face, having decided that looking like Baba Yaga was a bit off-putting when she saw herself in the mirror. “ADAM,” she called while she, Stephen, and Scott were working at the table that had been set up in the main room on her ship, “how are we doing on cracking their communications?”

  “We’re exactly nowhere,” ADAM replied. She heard John walk down the hall and stop at the doorway. She assumed he was leaning against the wall and listening. “They are using high-quality technology, and we haven’t been able to break it yet.”

  She tapped her lips, thinking. “Do we know for certain which location is the main base?”

  “With eighty-seven percent accuracy, yes,” ADAM answered.

  “I hate guessing,” she whispered. “How long before they finish their efforts to pull their people together?”

  “Best guess,” Stephen answered, “it will take up to a week.”

  “Can we attack the smaller groups?” she asked Stephen.

  Stephen thought about it for a moment. “Well, we could always do that, but what they are doing is exactly what we hoped they would. It would take us a lot longer to go after individual locations, so they are hunkering down. Just be thankful they aren’t trying to hide behind non-combatants.”

  “Probably don’t think of them as protection,” Scott commented. “They seemed pretty assured of their own importance.”

  “Well,” Bethany Anne looked at the map once more, “let’s hope they don’t get that idea before we eradicate them.”