Genetic Purge (The Galactic Outlaws Book 2)

by Bradford Bates

  GENETIC PURGE

  THE GALACTIC OUTLAWS BOOK 2

  BRADFORD BATES

  Copyright © 2017 Bradford Bates

  All rights reserved. This book is an original work of fiction, licensed for your personal enjoyment only. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  First edition: March 31, 2017

  Cover design by: Rebecca Frank

  Edited by Laura Kingsley

  Proofreading by Becky Bates

  If you need to contact the author, he can be reached at: bradford@bradfordbates.com

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  This book is dedicated to everyone that is supporting my dream of being an author. A special thanks to my readers, my family, and my fellow writers. I’ve ben blessed to meet some wonderful people since I started this wild ride, and I couldn’t continue to do this without them.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Bradford Bates

  Before They Were Galactic Outlaws

  CHAPTER 1

  D’AVIN

  It felt pretty damn good to get off of Sanctuary for a while. As much as I enjoyed the training and spending time with my brother, my feelings for The Brotherhood of the Light had started to wane. It was hard training your entire life for something that might never happen. My great-grandfather fought in the last recorded battle with one of their kind. Like my father, I had always hoped to see a true nosferatu during my lifetime, but that hope had faded since I grew into a man.

  I always hoped it would be Dal and I that faced the first true threat to our way of life in over a century, but today was my twenty-ninth birthday, and still there had been no sign of their return. I wanted my life to mean something more than training for a fight that wasn’t coming. I wanted to see the universe, explore the stars. Maybe even travel the rim for a bit.

  How did you tell your father you wanted to move on, that the family business wasn’t for you? Telling Dad wouldn’t be nearly as hard as it would be to break the news to Dal. They said brothers had a bond, and twins even more so. How did I tell him that I couldn’t see myself living in the confines of Sanctuary for another ten years, shit maybe not even five? Not to mention, Dal had his lover now, he didn’t need me anymore. I had never felt more alone.

  Our powers had earned us respect in our community, but they had also isolated us from the rest of our peers. No one liked getting their asses handed to them in training every day, so we had been forced to train together. Being the youngest two to pass the trials hadn’t made us any new friends. In fact, we might have lost some of the few we had.

  There were those that thought we held some ancient secret of our order, something we weren’t willing to share with the rest of them. But the strength of our gift was a God-given talent. It wasn’t something you could train harder to get, you either had the strength or you didn’t. Not that any of that mattered now, what good was being the best at killing vampires if there weren’t any left to kill? Sure the universe was full of their by blows, but they didn’t have the power to be a real threat, and none of them could spread the disease.

  Knocking back my shot of whiskey I motioned to the bartender to bring me another. The bar wasn’t anything classy, in fact it was a little more rough and trouble than I was used to. The drinks were cheap and the clientele was mostly miners getting their first leave in months. It was the kind of place you could go to be alone. No one here cared that I was part of the brotherhood, they just wanted to drink and relax, at least that was the way it normally was but tonight one man seemed to have an issue with my robes.

  The lighting was dark, which suited my mood just fine. Being off Sanctuary felt good, and since Dal was busy, I was celebrating my birthday alone. I was going to blow off a little steam with drinks, before heading over to Fletcher’s for a romp with one of my favorite girls. Maybe I’d upgrade to two women. That might be just what I needed to get over this melancholy hanging around me like a fog. The drink wasn’t quite washing away the day as fast as I would have liked, but I had faith that a few more would do the trick. Also, the asshole that had been staring holes through my back since I came in wasn’t adding anything to my fleeting sense of calm.

  It surprised me that someone this close to Sanctuary would be dumb enough to want to pick a fight with one of the Brotherhood. We didn’t start fights but the rumors on how we finished them should have been enough to make most people shy away from a confrontation with one of us. Most people wanted to stay as far away from me as they could. The white robes made them feel like I was some kind of priest, and that made people edgy. In a way, I was a priest, but while I believed in a higher power, mine was a god of wrath. Our order existed for one purpose, to eradicate the nosferatu from the universe.

  Ignoring the man behind me wasn’t working so I took a deep breath and extended my senses out into the bar around me. Slowly a three hundred and sixty degree view of the bar came into focus. The bartender was moving towards me with my fresh drink, and the man behind me was still staring at my back. Focusing on him allowed me to tune out the rest of the room and hear what he was saying.

  “I hate those fucking rag wearing homos from Sanctuary. They are always coming here and raising the prices on the girls. The bastards make it so a guy earning an honest living can’t even buy a good fuck anymore.”

  Now I was starting to get angry. It was probably time for me to just walk out of here before I did something rash. I think two girls was exactly what I needed. Knowing the man behind me couldn’t even afford one gave me just a little bit of pleasure. If this day got any worse I might have to look into three. It wasn’t like every day was your birthday.

  Another man at the table laughed and slammed down his drink before saying, “Oh, please Bill. It’s not like you ever made enough to buy a good fuck.”

  Their entire table broke into laughter, but it only served to make Bill angrier. He scowled at his friend that made the joke, but his friend just reached out and patted him on the shoulder. Bill shrugged his hand off and muttered something into his drink. His friends laughed again, and he stood up from the table, wavering a bit as he made his way to the bar.

  The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with this guy. It was time for me to c
ash out and buy a few of the overpriced drinks at Fletcher’s. It wasn’t like I needed to save the money. My account was overflowing with credits that I needed to spend.

  The bartender set my drink down in front of me and flashed me a mischievous smile. Humm, maybe I wouldn’t be going to Fletcher’s after all. I could put up with one asshole long enough for her to get off work. I pulled my senses back in and focused on her. She was pretty, early thirties if I had to guess, her hair was dyed, but the color suited her. Her top was tight dipping down just enough to peak your interest. It probably helped with the tips, not that her friendly smile wasn’t already doing enough.

  “That will be fifteen credits,” she said maybe with just an edge of flirtation.

  I tossed her a twenty credit chip, which vanished almost as soon as it reached her. “Keep the change.” She smiled and gave me a wink. Her mouth opened to say something, and then it snapped closed, her smile turning into a frown. Someone smashed into me from behind and then moved to the side. He came up right next to me leaning in so his shoulder touched mine. I tried to move away, but he just leaned further into me. Oblivious to my reaction, he started to speak with the bartender.

  “Oy, Shelia. What’s a guy got to do to get another beer around here?” Bill slurred.

  Stepping back and putting a hand on her hip, Shelia hit him with her best glare and said, “I think you’ve had enough. Why don’t you settle up and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Maybe you’d be interested in seeing me later tonight?”

  Bill smiled at her, but it probably didn’t have the effect he wanted. I could smell his breath from where I was seated. That and his body odor combined to give me an idea of why the Brotherhood was given such a good discount at Fletcher’s. We might be the only men on this station that knew how to use a shower. Shelia had a look of disgust on her face. She hadn’t looked to me for help yet, but I wasn’t willing to let this asshole lean against me forever.

  She moved away from us, pouring another beer. I followed Bill’s gaze and found myself staring at her ass. I looked up just before she turned around but Bill wasn’t so lucky. She sneered at him while placing the beer on the counter.

  “This one’s on me, but then you’re done for tonight.” She turned to leave.

  Bill’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm. “And about later tonight?”

  Shelia shook his hand off of her. “I’d rather get spaced.”

  Bill lunged forward, but I just managed to grab the back of his shirt. He pulled up short, but that didn’t stop him from growling out a threat. “That can be arranged.”

  Shelia moved towards the back of the bar, maybe to get something to defend herself with or maybe just to put some distance between her and the asshole that just threatened to kill her. Whatever she was going to grab, she didn’t need it. I had this situation under control. I released the man next to me and slid my stool a foot or so away from him. If he made a move I wanted a little room to work with. I pretended to just go back to my night as if nothing happened. I reached for my drink, and he knocked my hand away.

  Bill picked up my shot, slugged the whiskey in one go, and then glared at me. “Let’s just call that an asshole tax.”

  Asshole tax? That was rich coming from a drunk miner who smelled like he spent the week walking around neck deep in shit. He was going to buy me another drink or I was going to take my frustrations out with my fist. Ok, so maybe letting things go wasn’t my strong suit. “I only see one asshole here, and he owes me twenty credits.”

  “Fuck off, you crazy cult piece of shit.” He pushed past me, trying to knock me from my stool.

  My teachings would have told me to back away. That I served only to protect humanity from a singular threat to our existence, and that using my abilities to fight against those I was sworn to protect was wrong. Sometimes you had to put those teachings aside, especially when you needed to teach someone a lesson in common courtesy. Standing up I grabbed Bill’s shoulder stopping him from walking away. I heard Shelia gasp at the same time Bill spun around and tried to hit me.

  He’d have to do better than a half drunken haymaker to hit me, let alone stun me. Dal was four times as fast and better trained than this buffoon, and even he had problems taking me in physical combat. I ducked under the wild swing and slipped to the side. I pushed out with my mind as well as my hands and Bill flew across the room smashing into the wall fifteen feet away.

  I must have been angrier than I thought because I had only meant to give him a little shove, and not the bone-crushing one that I had. Bill was shaking himself from a stupor as two of his friends went to help him up. The other two sitting at the table rose and came for me. They might not have loved the guy, but they weren’t about to let one of their own get hit without responding. It was exactly what I would have done for anyone in my order.

  The two men spread out as they closed on my position. Neither of these men looked to be as drunk as their friend, and both of them were built from years of hard labor. The first swing came from behind me. Didn’t they always. I was ready for the strike. Stepping to the side, I let the edge of his knuckles glance across my shoulder before pushing him back a step. He stumbled back a step giving me the room I needed to kick him in the chest. He crashed over the stool he had just vacated falling hard on his back. His partner moved forward, hoping to catch me off balance.

  Instead of standing back up, I rolled to the floor, coming up behind him before he could turn around. My hands moved like lightning as I hit three nerve clusters in his back, sending him to the floor wanting to scream but unable to. The first man was back up and had my stool raised above his head. He brought it down where I had just been standing. The reverberations of hitting the ground instead of a person forced the stool from his hands.

  “Not cool, you could have seriously hurt someone,” I said continuing to move around him.

  Bill and the two men that helped him to his feet were rushing towards me now. I snapped a quick punch to the man in front of me’s temple, sending him crashing to the floor. I dropped back and readied myself to take on three men at the same time. One of them pulled out a small knife, and the other had a length of chain.

  “You’re dead, motherfucker,” Bill jeered.

  As eloquent as always. “I’m willing to take it as far as you are.”

  Bill took a step forward, and a red bolt slammed into the ground at his feet leaving a scorch mark between us.

  Shelia stood behind the bar blaster rifle in hand, glaring daggers at all of us. “Get out of my bar! All of you.”

  Bill made a move towards me again, and she fired. This time the shot left the tip of Bill’s boot burning. He got the message and turned away from me. He motioned to the other two men. “Help them up and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Stepping back, I made room for the two men to help their friends up. Once they had the two men up and moving towards the door I bent down to pick up the stool. I set it back by the bar. Just what in the hell had I been thinking? Getting in a bar fight with those men would have only resulted in their deaths and me with a lot of explaining to do. As it was, I was sure news of this encounter would make it back to my father in short order.

  “I said all of you,” Shelia said, stirring me from my thoughts.

  I looked at the bent and disfigured stool and then back to Shelia. I pulled out three hundred credits and set them on the counter. “I’m sorry if I caused you any inconvenience.”

  She still had the gun pointed at me, but the credits had gone a long way towards softening her expression. She moved the muzzle of the rifle towards the door indicating I should go. I gave her a little bow and then turned to walk away. I focused on her as I stepped outside and my sight picked up the hint of a smile breaking across her face as I left. I liked to think that I had charmed her back to my side, instead of thinking she was just happy to be rid of me. Interlacing my fingers, I cracked my knuckles. The night was still young.

  Stepping outside of the bar, I loo
ked around. The five men were gone, it was almost disappointing. The teachings told me that I should never go out looking for a fight, but after that little scuffle, I wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. My blood was singing a song of violence unfulfilled. It must have been the warrior in me tired of only sparring against my own. I guess I would have to settle for satisfying the energy coursing through me in other ways. It was high time I made my way to Fletcher’s.

  The bordello would provide just the kind of distraction I needed to pull me out of the funk I was in. Moving into the alleyway between the two main drags of the station, I noticed that some of the lights were out. With all of the money this station made from ships refueling and taxing the businesses that operated here, you’d think they could have afforded to replace a few bulbs.

  Less than halfway through the alley, the hair on the back of my neck started to rise. My mental shields snapped into place quickly enough to turn what would have been a killing blow into a deep scratch along my side. I spun around finding Bill standing behind me, arm extended, holding a knife. He looked up into my eyes, and I could see the question he wanted to ask written all over his face. How did he miss?