Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3)

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Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3) Page 1

by Michael Anderle




  Witch Of The Federation III

  Federal Histories™ 03

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Michael Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design

  http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, September 2019

  ISBN: 978-1-64202-474-6

  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

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Creator Notes - Michael Anderle

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with the author

  The Witch Of The Federation Book III Team

  Thanks to our Beta Team

  John Ashmore, Larry Omans, Mary Morris, and Nicole Emens

  Thanks to our JIT Readers

  Dave Hicks

  Deb Mader

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Jeff Eaton

  Larry Omans

  Mary Morris

  Misty Roa

  Nicole Emens

  If We’ve missed anyone, please let us know!

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  Chapter One

  Lachlan Hennessy met the wall with a painful thump. He hadn’t seen them coming and had been so busy reading the Federation Review’s latest report on the Federation Witch that he hadn’t even heard them.

  They’d caught him at the back of G-Wing, blindsided him, and shoved him against the brickwork. He managed to keep a hold of his magazine, snapped it shut, and wished he was back on the ranch.

  Yeah, that’s what Stephanie would call it—a ranch. Not a cattle station, a ranch. It was big enough to encompass both the cities she lived in several times over and he missed it more than anything else. Boarding school sucked.

  What sucked more were the bullies. He pushed off the wall and tried to keep walking, but two of them blocked his path and forced him to turn back. If they hadn’t thought to get in behind him, he might...

  He sighed. It seemed they’d found their brains today. Just his luck. He stopped and faced their leader.

  “Hey, farm boy! Whatcha got there?”

  It seemed they’d found their words, too.

  He tucked the magazine behind his back as Pete Solomon reached to snatch it from him.

  “None of your business, city slicker.”

  Pete tried again and his target turned side-on and pushed the bigger boy away. His tormentor had reached his growth spurt early and Lachlan had yet to catch up. This time, Pete caught hold of the magazine and tugged in an effort to get it out of his hands.

  Lachlan tried to hang onto it, but it was let go or let it tear, and he couldn’t have that. If he was lucky, he’d get it back in one piece and not three or four.

  Having got what he wanted, Pete backed away, and his victim turned to face him. His face heated as he watched the boys look at the cover.

  “Oooh, Lachie’s got a girlfriend,” the bully taunted, and he glared as the other boys took up the call.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he snapped.

  “Well, we knew that,” Pete’s main off-sider, Terry, snapped. “She’s way out of your league.”

  He tried to snatch the magazine back, but the taller boy lifted it out of his reach. “Not so fast, Lachie boy. I haven’t finished reading it.”

  “I didn’t know you knew how to read.” The words were out before he realized what he was saying.

  Pete’s face reddened. “I can read.” He lowered the magazine, and Lachlan forced himself to keep his eyes on his adversary’ face. With even one look of anxiety, he’d have to ask to borrow Mr. Stavropoulos’ sticky tape, again—and that man asked far too many questions.

  “I beat you in the maths quiz, didn’t I?” the bully challenged, and Lachlan looked at the ground. “Well, didn’t I?”

  His question brought a sudden stillness to the other bullies before Terry cleared his throat.

  “You sure did, Pete. You beat him good.”

  Lachlan was glad he was staring at the ground or the boy would have read the truth on his face. He’d lied about the math quiz, hacked the school’s system, and changed the grades to save himself another beating. Unfortunately, his tormentor was smarter than he looked.

  He glanced up in time to see Pete look at Terry and the sidekick’s said it all. Pete turned to Lachlan.

  “You lied?” His voice rose and his fist clenched around the magazine.

  Lachlan shrugged and decided he might as well be hung for a sheep as much as for a lamb. There was no saving the magazine now.

  “I thought you needed to win something that week. After all, I’d beaten you in everything else.”

  Pete dropped the magazine and shoved him in the chest. “You don’t get to pity me.” The words were almost a snarl, and he pushed him as he said each one.

  He braced himself and took it. At least they weren’t teasing him about Stephanie Morgana anymore. It was an easy decision to keep it that way.

  “Why not? Someone has to.” He saw his opponent’s other hand curl into a fist. “You’re pathetic, picking on—”


  Terry cut him off. “No! I’ll tell you who’s pathetic,” he interjected. “You are.”

  And, to Lachlan’s dismay, he picked the magazine up and held it so everyone could see the cover. “Pining after the Federation Witch like some pathetic little kid who wants his mummy.”

  There was a chorus of “yeah, pathetic” and “ooh, little Lachie wants his mummy.” Lachlan frowned, but he kept his eyes on Pete. He could see the others closing in on either side but refused to give ground.

  He’d end up against the wall soon enough. Judging from the look on Pete’s face, he’d probably end up in the infirmary, too. So much for keeping Mr. Stavropoulos in the dark. The dorm master would ask any number of tough questions about this one.

  Lachlan thrust the thought away. Pete had followed Terry’s lead. His lip curled in disgust, and he snatched the magazine out of his friend’s hands.

  “This?” he shouted. “This is who you’re pining for? She doesn’t even know you exist and she wouldn’t care even if she did.”

  The other boys all crowded around to jostle and bump him so he had difficulty keeping his feet. Lachlan opened his mouth to argue that Stephanie cared about everyone, but Pete hadn’t finished.

  “Do you know what’s going to happen? She’ll be up in the stars, and you’ll go back to your stinking farm to chase cows. The closest thing you’ll ever have to a girlfriend is whatever bush pig you can catch.”

  The others reacted like that was the funniest thing he had ever said and laughed and made hissing sounds as they high-fived each other for his humor. Lachlan raised his head and his eyes burned with fury.

  As if Stephanie would ever be his girlfriend. As if that was what he wanted. No, he admired her. He read everything about her because he wanted to be out there, defending the galaxy, exactly like she did.

  He took a step forward and Pete froze, his eyes calculating.

  “And what do you have to say to that farm boy?” he taunted.

  Lachlan raised his chin and looked Pete in the eye, then looked him up and down like he wasn’t impressed by what he saw.

  “At least my head is in the stars and not up my ass like yours.”

  Momentary shock etched the large boy’s face, but one of his cronies tried to stifle a laugh and that was all it took. Terry launched the first blow and caught him squarely on the side of the head. It set his ears ringing and blurred his vision, but he didn’t go down.

  This time, he wouldn’t go down. This time...

  Pete’s fist pounded into his chest as he stumbled. Lachlan sighted on the bully’s body and swung at it. He almost landed the strike but hands grasped at his arms and his blow fell short. His adversary’s next punch caught him in the stomach.

  It would have doubled him over, except the boys had hold of his arms and dragged him against the wall to pin him there. Lachlan gasped and fought to regain his breath while Pete closed.

  They had his arms secure but that didn’t mean they had his feet. He lashed out with his boots. They always teased him about them but they had protected his feet a million times over and they’d protect him, now.

  The toe of one caught Pete in the shin, and the bully roared in anger.

  Well, crap, that’s not how it’s supposed to go. Lachlan wondered what Stephanie would do in this situation. She’d blast them but she probably wouldn’t kill them.

  And he’d better not kill them, or he’d be in more trouble than he was about to be.

  As Pete landed another blow to his ribs, Lachlan wished he could feel Earth’s magic, exactly like the Witch could. He wished—

  The bully punched him again, and he gasped when something gave in his chest.

  Stephanie would finish this quickly. She’d pull the magic in and blast it out to knock them all unconscious. Lachlan tried for another kick but it hurt to raise his leg and he groaned. As if that was the signal they’d been waiting for, the boys released him.

  Pete’s next strike landed higher and hammered into his chest below the shoulder. The one that followed slammed into the side of his face. Lachlan’s knees gave way and he pitched forward and tried to use his hands to break his fall. If ever there was a time he needed magic, it was now.

  But only to defend myself, he thought and imagined he could feel the eMU beneath his palms.

  Warmth answered the thought, flowed up through his hands and knees, and radiated through him. The bully swung his leg back, ready to treat his victim’s head like a football, and Lachlan dropped onto his elbows and simply wished Pete would stop.

  He wondered if any of the boys had hurt this much in all their tiny lives. Maybe if they had, they wouldn’t do this now.

  If he could land even one punch. He got his hands under him and tried to push to his feet, focusing on that. One punch.

  The warmth flared as he got to his knees and static arced around him. Pete gave a cry of pain, and his foot hit the ground, the kick undelivered. Blue lightning tinged the air and short spikes of it leapt between Lachlan and those who surrounded him.

  For barely a moment, electricity buzzed and the boys yelped in pain. They stumbled back a step, shock and fear painted in their expressions, but that wasn’t what caught Lachlan’s attention.

  Sparks bounced between his fingers and waves of blue pulsed over his hands. He raised them and turned them over to study them before he remembered where he was.

  He was surprised to find no-one had tried to land a punch while he’d been distracted and looked around to see where they’d gone. They remained glued in place but they all stared at him like he was a taipan snake about to strike.

  They backed away another step, and Lachlan saw the magazine on the ground. It was still in one piece, albeit slightly rumpled and torn. He picked it up and smoothed the cover, and the lightning traced patterns across its surface.

  Stephanie’s face looked at him as though reminding him of what she stood for. He lifted the magazine and showed the boys the cover.

  “She protects us all,” he told them, “and so will I.”

  On the other side of the world, a Dreth warrior knocked on the door to Elizabeth Smith’s office. At well over seven feet tall and built like a small APC, the alien didn’t look like he needed to worry about anything. Despite that, he did indeed look worried.

  “Come in,” Ms E called and frowned slightly when she saw who’d come to visit. She waved at the over-sized chair newly installed in her office. “Vishlog, have a seat.”

  He nodded at her and took the seat indicated before he removed an outsized tablet from the armored case he wore at his belt. “I may have a problem,” he told her, tapped the tablet, and handed it to her.

  “What kind of a problem?” she asked, turned the device in her hands, and focused on it. “I see nothing wrong, here.”

  Personally, the only thing she saw wrong with the situation was that he’d handed her his bank account, open and unguarded. She could have emptied it with a few quick taps of her forefinger and told him everything was fixed, and he’d have believed her. That was an awful lot of trust for anyone, let alone a Dreth.

  Who knew Dreth could trust so much? she wondered before Vishlog answered her question.

  “The balance is wrong,” he told her. “There is too much.”

  Ms E raised her eyebrows and pretended to scrutinize the balance and the list of transactions leading to it. When she was done, she looked at him, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “Nope, I see nothing wrong there.”

  The Dreth’s frown deepened and he leaned forward and indicated the relevant places on the screen. “Here,” he said, “and here. There is... There is too much.”

  She examined the appropriate transactions and tried to control the bubble of laughter rising in her chest. He was genuinely concerned, so it wouldn’t do to show amusement at his expense. She cleared her throat and managed to keep her face as straight and serious as any company administrator.

  “No,” she assured him. “You were part of Stephanie’s security team in the recent
operations, and every member of that team was entitled to a bonus of twenty million credits. I’m glad to see it went through without any trouble.”

  “But...but I was on loan.”

  “Nevertheless, you were on the team, and Miss Morgana made it very clear to your ambassador that if you became part of the Morgana mercenary team, you would be paid as part of the team.”

  “But—”

  “If we’d had to return you or if you’d chosen not to stay, that wouldn’t have been the case and One R&D would have been twenty million credits richer.”

  “But I was not part of the mercenary team when I did the work,” he argued. “That should mean—”

  Ms E rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Look, Vishlog. You can argue with the boss if you wish, but I’m warning you, once Stephanie sets her mind to something, she can be very...”

  She let the words trail off and allowed the Dreth to work it out for himself.

  His eyes widened when he contemplated how much Stephanie might object to him refusing the bonus, and worry turned to consternation. “But—”

 

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