Payback Is A Bitch

by Michael Anderle

  Two of those inside were walking back and forth and there were several warm bodies on the floor—although one of those was quickly cooling.

  “Fuckers!” Watson pulled his pistol. “Prepare to enter on my mark.”

  Jesse drew his pistol as he scanned the layout of the bank the Pit had sent him. He jogged over to the other side of the bank’s doors and nodded.

  “GO!” Watson pulled his pistols’ triggers twice and the hyper-velocity rounds splattered both thieves’ heads, their blood spraying back towards the wall before the sound of the windows shattering caught anyone’s attention.

  Jesse shot the window just before his enhanced jump took him through it. His right hand was up, so when the third thief came running out of the vault with his pistol raised he shot him in the head, dropping him immediately.

  The man’s finger didn’t even pull the trigger of his gun.

  A moment later Jesse reached down and pressed a finger against the neck of the alien, which looked like a cross between a human and a squid. “Clear!”

  Watson replied, “Clear!”

  Jesse’s lead checked on the wounded man on the floor, but shook his head and stood up. Both dropped their pistols back in their holsters and locked them. “Would everyone please calmly stand up,” Watson requested. “And move to the side. The police officers will be in momentarily.”

  High Tortuga, Hidden Space Fleet Base, the Pit

  “Well,” Terry said glumly as everyone in the Pit watched the video screen of the takedown, “I don’t think we’ll get any intel out of those guys.”

  Bethany Anne, her hand over her protruding stomach, sighed. “Not much of an option. His gun was aimed at the hostages, so they had to go for the kill shot.” She leaned over and pressed a button. “Watson, this is Bethany Anne.”

  “Yes, ma’am?” was his reply. She saw his armored figure turn slightly before he realized she was speaking through his helmet.

  “Work with the police. I want to know what they were trying to steal. Get a judge—someone—to give us permission to find out what’s in that safety deposit box.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Watson replied.

  “All I can ask,” Bethany Anne agreed. “Out.”

  “Do you think,” Terry asked, “this has something to do with those who attacked us?”

  Bethany Anne, her eyes still on the video intake from the bank, shook her head. “I’ve got no idea.”

  High Tortuga, Hidden Space Fleet Base, Pit

  Addix walked down the steps to the bottom level, where Bethany Anne was working at the table. She looked up and kicked a chair out for Addix to sit down.

  “Thank you,” Addix responded, accepting the chair.

  “It’s time?” Bethany Anne asked. “I don’t want them up there too long, but it sure beats not being in space when needed.”

  “I think so,” Addix agreed. “I’ve spoken with Admiral Thomas. He says tomorrow night is good to take the ships out anyway. I’ve gotten feedback from assets on Goptek Major, who say that pirates from their sister planet, Goptek Minor, raided a warehouse owned by an interstellar conglomerate. They had expected canned foodstuffs and got a warehouse full of missiles.”

  “What kind?”

  “Leath Punchers.”

  Bethany Anne’s eyes narrowed, “What are those?”

  “They are space-platform-based missiles that are pre-programmed to hit hardened locations on planets. Get into a system, fire them off, and either follow them in or leave. If the planet has weapons systems, there is a chance of knocking them out of space or air.”

  Bethany Anne thought for a moment. “ADAM?”

  “Yes?” the AI replied.

  “How has the game for the BYPS system worked?”

  “We have initialized repositioning of the outer defense system. One player was able to get ninety-seven-percent coverage of the planet with our present deployment, but it will take another week to move them into that configuration.”

  Bethany Anne turned to Addix. “Worst case scenario?”

  “Forty-eight hours from Goptek Minor straight to here. Assume they had to meet a larger fleet somewhere…that grants us twelve more hours. They will have to go through three Gates to get here in that time. Those are the only ones that won’t announce who is traveling through them—privacy concerns and all that.”

  “Privacy.” Bethany Anne sighed. “Absolutely the right thing to do, until it’s your ass hanging in the wind.”

  She pulled up the specifications on the Puncher missile. “Shit!” She hit two more buttons. “I’m going to have to put a superdreadnought above us for protection.”

  “That will blow our cover,” Addix warned. “The only ones everyone knows about are ArchAngel II and Prime.”

  The wall of monitors in the Pit blanked, then one large face covered the screens. Archangel II, using her avatar of Bethany Anne’s face, looked at everyone in the Pit.

  “Hello, ArchAngel.” Bethany Anne smiled at the ship’s avatar. “I assume you have something to say?”

  “Yes. I will be the one who protects you.” Her eyes showed just a hint of red. “No other dreadnought has my experience.”

  Bethany Anne sighed. “ArchAngel, who can fight a battle in space better than you? But what if they come with ten ships, or fifty, or a hundred?”

  ArchAngel was quiet. Bethany Anne turned to Addix. “Ok, while she runs a few million war simulations until she figures out I’m right, update Admiral Thomas and get him the best info you have. Give him your guesses, too.”

  Addix started to speak. “I—”

  Bethany Anne stopped her, “I know you hate guesses. But we need them, so do it.” Bethany Anne thought for a moment. “Are you needed here…on this planet?”

  “I will not leave with a battle coming at us,” Addix replied, affronted.

  “I’m not suggesting you should,” Bethany Anne told her. “I’m thinking this pirate attack is what we need to track down our attackers.”

  “What about any new intel from the pirates?” Addix asked.

  “Do you think they will have any more information than those you have spoken with so far? Basically they have a communication-drop folder that we can’t trace, and commands come to it. They get paid. They sell their stolen merchandise through cutouts. It’s smart, it’s large, and it’s well-protected, but the warehouse raid may be a thread that can be unraveled. If it helps,” Bethany Anne smiled, “I think you will have killers after you.”

  Addix chuckled. “Yes, I will have a heightened opportunity for death. So you want me to track this down instead of my people?”

  “That’s right.” Bethany Anne nodded. “We’ve lost one or two of our agents so far?”

  “One. The other was placed in a medical unit quickly enough, but until we can get him into a Pod-doc,” she shook her head, “we won’t be able to help him. He is in stasis.”

  “Right. We will deal with this attack, assuming it comes. However, I want you out there trying to figure out who this is so that when I have a target, I can bring the pain.”

  Addix stood up. “I’ll work with Admiral Thomas, and then I’ll leave on The Lady Princess.”

  Bethany Anne nodded. “That will work. Just remember that our Gate-capable ships can and will self-destruct if they are caught. That technology cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

  “Understood.” Addix turned to go but paused. “Bethany Anne?”

  Bethany Anne looked up from the screen she was reading. “Hmm?”

  “When you pulled me off my planet and offered to do the rejuvenation and upgrades,” she waved a clawed hand up and down her body, “did you think you would put me out in the field again?”

  Bethany Anne shook her head. “Not at that time. I expected you to run everything from this planet. When you and I talked, I could feel your love of the field—of occasionally testing yourself against others— and that is when I decided to upgrade you as much as I did. Remember,” Bethany Anne tapped the side of her head,
“I’ve been in your mind. I know you, and I know your spirit. You are in this with me all the way, so should anyone try to take you out?”

  Addix’s chuckle was malevolent. “I won’t eat their brain, I promise.”

  With that, she turned and left the Pit.

  High Tortuga, Hidden Space Fleet Base, The Pit, Twenty-Four Hours Later

  Bethany Anne was sitting at her conference table with Admiral Thomas, Stephen, and Peter again, and this time Jean Dukes and John Grimes joined them.

  Gabrielle was out on a mission, or she would have been there as well.

  “Okay.” She rapped her knuckles on the table. “As I explained, these are exploratory talks only. I am trying to figure out if MPPS is even a possibility, or a concept so antithetical that we should just can it and hope for the best.” She glanced around the table. “The topic for today is Defense.” She looked at Admiral Thomas. “Considering you have to be out there in six hours, you’re up.”

  He looked at her funny.

  “What?” she asked. “I told you…if you happen to die out there, I want what’s in your brain right now before it gets wasted. Can’t have all of that wisdom lost to me.”

  Admiral Thomas chuckled. “Anyone tell you that you can be a cold-hearted bitch?”

  “Of course. I think you did, just last week.”

  “Well, I was right.” He nodded. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.” He straightened in his chair, clasping his hands in front of him. “What Bethany Anne wants is a world where people are allowed to be the best they can be. Should they choose to act in a way that isn’t good for society they will be allowed to leave, or offered reduced options until they choose by their actions to leave this mortal coil.”

  He glanced around. “The only way that those on a planet are going to be allowed to enjoy this freedom is if they do not have to worry about external threats, so the defense of the planet was my homework. Since we could be attacked within a few days, it may be a pass-fail effort.”

  He and the others chuckled. “I’m sure if one of those Leath Punchers hits this area, it’ll be considered a fail.”

  “Got that right,” Bethany Anne agreed.

  “So, how do we create a society which supports individual freedom from antagonism, which by definition means the society deplores violence, and yet create a military?”

  “I wouldn’t suggest the Kurtherian method,” Stephen interjected. “Messing with the DNA to take out the violent tendencies backfires.”

  “True,” Thomas agreed. “At some point, the pacifists have to grow a spine and fight when they aren’t prepared to do it at all. So, five clans who don’t know how to fight now have to take on seven clans who love it.”

  John spoke up. “We could always go find a species that hasn’t lost their barbaric ways…” He rubbed his chin. “Wait, that sounds like what we are doing right now.”

  Nice. Real nice. TOM sent to Bethany Anne. Accurate, but not so funny if you belong to one of the five clans.

  Leave him be, Bethany Anne chided her Kurtherian tag-a-long. He might be joking, but it IS a viable strategy. And if we hadn’t seen your people’s example, we might have gone that direction as well. There were plenty of DNA studies in progress on Earth when we left. I imagine we probably would have tried eradicating people’s violent tendencies soon enough. Imagine our surprise when another species attacked us? All of our science-fiction would have been proven right, and those scientists who argued that no species which could conquer space would be violent would be very wrong.

  Reminds me of that movie.

  Independence Day; we’ve spoken about it before.

  Kinda funny, TOM mused. The aliens actually remind me of a race called the K’rillick, except they were peaceful.

  What happened to them?

  Destroyed by the T’sehmion Clan using a species of omnivores called Bok that looked like a cross between Earth panda bears and Yollins. The Bok found out that the K’rillick tasted good if you steamed them.

  That’s…just gross. Bethany Anne returned her attention to the conversation. With her ability to accelerate to enhanced speeds, she could carry conversations with ADAM and TOM in between the words when others spoke.

  John continued, “All joking aside, and I apologize to TOM if he is listening…” He glanced at Bethany Anne, who nodded her head. “But we have a real problem. We don’t want to outsource our defense, but the genes that support a people willing to do violence unto others are the same ones that make them willing to do violence unto their own people.”

  And even if you think, TOM added, that taking out the violent gene would fix that risk, remember that Mother Nature has a way of biting you in the ass for fucking with her.

  19

  Four hours outside Goptek Major, The Lady Princess

  Bethany Anne had once had a ship called the Scamp Princess. It was used for many decades after Bethany Anne stopped using it, and it was based in the Federation for secret missions.

  After the Etheric Empire defeated the Leath many of their companies branched out, opening trade and other business ventures—including trading in their advanced weapons.

  The Lady Princess was a Leath-designed small cargo ship that looked like a private yacht. There were a few of them running around space, so it wasn’t unique.

  Except for all the Empire’s technology inside, including the EI Lady Princess.

  “We will be ready to land in three hours,” the EI announced.

  “Thank you, I’m getting dressed,” Addix replied, moving from the tiny bridge to her personal suite. The ship could, in fact, run cargo—about four pallets’ worth. However, most of the space was artfully used for the Gate engines that allowed it to bypass commercial Gates.

  Addix placed the first of her four legs into the special armor her Queen had ordered built just for her, quickly followed by the other three.

  It was a luxurious feeling once the metal locked in place. Pliable as cloth yet as silent as walking without shoes, it allowed her full mobility. Her four legs were more arachnid under her robes than like a human’s. She checked that her spy supplies were in the pouches to either side and locked down her knives and her four pistols.

  Her guns were unique. Just being Jean Dukes made them rare, but these were the only ones in existence that had been designed for an Ixtali.

  Because Addix was the only Ixtali Bethany Anne had ever trusted.

  For an Ixtali, Addix was beyond old. She had been ready to go and live on a farm on her planet; give up the politics she had worked in for so long, trying to keep her people from reverting to their old ways.

  Ways which would have caused wars in the future.

  She had already outlived her family and friends, and she said her goodbyes to their graves in her heart. She left with the then-Empress on her last trip to her planet and never looked back.

  Now her body was young again, since she had been enhanced. She had speed, strength, and dexterity far beyond what she had ever personally possessed, and more than any other Ixtali’d had either.

  She put on her chest piece and three-quarter sleeves and locked them down. She always wore robes in public and didn’t want anyone to see her armor if her sleeves went too far up her arms.

  She wasn’t taking a helmet, so she had better not try to stop a bullet with her mandibles.

  She pulled her robe over her head, hiding everything she wore beneath it, and admired herself in the mirror. Her mandibles tapped together gently in appreciation.

  What were those things Eric and Scott read? Bomic cooks? No, comic books. She was a true black widow.

  She liked the character, but the pretty human—if pretty she was, since Addix couldn’t tell—didn’t look like the name at all. She had looked up the Earth insect and liked the red hourglass on its abdomen.

  If there was ever a being who truly looked like the Black Widow character more than she did, she wasn’t sure who it might be. Those human females who had played the part had known nothing about bein
g an interstellar spy.

  It was time to show those bitches what being a black widow really meant.

  Goptek Major, Principal Starport

  “Lock down the ship,” Addix announced as she hit the button to open the door. She had already checked the outside video, which was clear.

  A moment later she stepped out into a maelstrom of activity. She was parked on a secondary landing pad. For security she had rented the eight spaces around her ship and posted a warning sign that the ship was armed and dangerous to those who might try to hijack it.

  The Goptek System treated idiots as vermin they wished to get rid of. If you put up a warning sign and then followed through on your warning and killed interlopers? Well, so long as you weren’t unlawful in protecting your valuables, you were okay. Since Goptek Major’s fine for a death was the equivalent to the cost of lunch at a major restaurant, the value of the ship was unquestionably high enough to warrant a death threat.

  She chuckled; her ride would be here when she got back.

  It took her three hours to find two employees who worked for the KGB Corporation and had helped move their materials. She bought them drinks, speaking about her own background as a young politician, and that she had decided politics were for the older people and come out to seek her fortune.

  They had laughed. An Ixtali not in the secrets business?

  “I’m not into secrets,” she argued, slurring her words. Her side mandibles failed to touch each other when she moved them.

  In other words, she was stinking drunk.

  “Sure, sure!” P’rok laughed. He was pretty soused himself. He beat his buddy’s arm. “An Ixtali not into secrets!” They laughed along with her.

  “It’s not like…” She paused. “It’s not like you two would have secrets.” She stopped, eyes open. “I’m sorry, that was ruuuuuude. I’m sure you have lots of secrets, but none that I would… I would…would want,” she finished, obviously pleased with herself.