“Oh, that’s easy,” Bethany Anne smiled. “We are going to attend so I can kick some ass.”
15
Noel-ni Planet Sertjal, ArchAngel II in Orbit, Six Months Later
Bethany Anne was in her suite on ArchAngel II when John knocked on the door. She called to him to come in.
John cracked the door and stuck his head in. “You wanted me?”
“Yes,” Bethany Anne replied. “What are you guys taking into the meeting?”
“Well,” John stepped into her room carrying a box, leaving the door to the outer suite open, “they have banned armor and major weapons.”
“Uh huh,” Bethany Anne replied, “and if you say this hotel doesn’t have a shit-ton of weapons all over it, you're lying.”
“Oh, no doubt,” John agreed. “The thing is,” he held up his hand, fingers closed before he put up one finger. “They prohibit all forms of chemical propellant.” He put up a second finger. “All forms of laser or beam energy,” he put up a third finger, “and various and sundry slug-throwing devices.” He put up a fourth finger. “Any form of body armor you wear like clothes and,” he put up the last finger, “gloves.”
“So, the Leath are big motherfuckers, but all any of us can have is a blade or some other personal weapon that can’t deliver death at a distance.”
“Well, what they don’t know—” John started and Bethany Anne smiled.
“Won’t hurt us,” she finished. “However, tell me the good news—what’s Jean got for us?”
“You remember the fight back on Earth where we were attacked at the hotel?” he asked, and handed her the box he had brought in with him.
She took it.
“Yeah.” Bethany Anne smiled, her eyes losing focus for just a moment. “Damn! Good times, good times.” John snorted. “Hey! Those were good times, personally speaking of course.” She walked over to a wall that had a door, but no handle. “ArchAngel, open my weapons room.”
There was an audible click and the eight-inch-thick door swung away from the wall. Bethany Anne went inside as John walked to the doorway, peeked in, and whistled. “When did you get those KRISS Super Vs?” he asked, and stepped in to pull one of the submachine guns off the wall. “Damn, you have been holding out on me!”
“Well, actually...” she said. John ignored the sound of her stripping and opening the box behind him as he studied the submachine gun.
“God, these are wonderful. Take out just a couple of pins,” he said and turned to his left, where there was a little table for working on the weapons. He grinned when Bethany Anne pulled out the stick-on armor design that went under their clothes and…
“Gott Verdammt, that’s cold!” she bitched behind him. “Ranting bollock experiment… Oooooh, damn.” There were a few more choice words as John took apart the .45 caliber gun, checking to make sure there were no rounds inside. “These were designed using concepts from the Kalashnikov,” John told Bethany Anne. “Large pieces that wouldn’t fuck up in the field. Easy to disassemble and clean.”
“Uh huh,” she agreed. “Wow, she even gave my woohoo some protection.”
John stopped looking at the gun and glanced up at the ceiling, trying to assimilate what he had just heard, and realized what she was doing. “I’m not going to ask.”
Bethany Anne ignored him. “Wow, hope you don’t have a hairy sasquatch when you rip this shit back off.”
“La la la,” John intoned. “More information than I wanted to know about my Empress,” he told her, carefully not looking.
“I mean really,” Bethany Anne gasped a second later, “a minute on a lady’s lower lips…”
Bethany Anne grinned when John launched into his own version of super-speed to put the submachine back together, place it back on the wall, and step out of her weapons room. She imagined how red his face must have been and snickered.
Once she had the armor in place, she grabbed her stretchy fabric two-piece and put it on, then donned her leather gear. Ball gowns were for princesses, and she wasn’t a princess.
She was the Queen Bitch.
A few moments later she stepped out of her weapons closet and walked over to John, who was busy with his tablet. She placed her two swords on the bed and held up the KRISS. “Hey, big guy.” He turned to her, one eyebrow up. “This was supposed to be a gift to you on our anniversary. Sorry,” she told him and held the gun out to him.
John’s eyes narrowed. “Damn, how many years has it been,” he asked as he accepted the submachine gun from Bethany Anne, “since you saved me in the Everglades?” He turned the gun over, and continued the inspection he had cut short back in the weapons room.
“Too damned long, and yet just yesterday,” she answered. John didn’t see her surreptitiously wiping a small tear out of her right eye as she enjoyed his delight at receiving the gun.
Her guys really liked to shoot the old stuff.
“It’s a shame we can’t bring this,” He looked up, a question in his eyes. “We can’t bring this, right?”
“Not exactly,” she agreed, “but we can chat about it with the others before we go down to the hotel.”
“So,” Bethany Anne grabbed her swords and walked out of her bedroom, “what did Jean give you guys? Cod protection?”
“Not funny, BA,” John groused.
“C’mon Ashur, c’mon Matrix,” Bethany Anne called out, and the two German Shepherds came out of their room. Ashur’s totally white fur contrasted starkly with Matrix’ black body and four white-stockinged feet. Matrix was two inches shorter at the shoulder than his dad. “Make sure you both wear your armor as well.
I hate armor! Matrix sent. It’s constricting.
“No armor, no go,” Bethany Anne told him. “No choice.”
This sucks planetarium piss, Matrix grumbled and jogged past Bethany Anne into the hallway beyond.
Bethany Anne shook her head and smiled as she heard Darryl singing just outside her front door. “I’ve got the biggest codpiece of all!”
Noel-ni Planet Sertjal, Floating Hotel
“This is Giannini Oviedo outside the Unpronounceable Purple Hotel—”
“Stop!” Sia lifted her Drone HUD glasses and gave her friend the look. “Seriously? The unpronounceable purple hotel?”
“No.” Giannini shook her head. “I said the name with capital letters, like a proper name. You did not.”
“How am I supposed to know the difference between capitalized and uncapitalized generic names?” Sia asked.
“I’m a professional, so you have to listen closely.” Giannini smiled. “It’s all in the inflection.”
“I’ll inflect you! Now say the name right,” Sia told her friend and slid the glasses back down on her face, covering her eyes. “In three, two, one…” Sia pointed to Giannini.
“This is Giannini Oviedo outside of the XerpresciechCoth Hotel, which is the largest floating hotel on the Noel-ni Planet Sertjal. This,” she waved behind her at its three buildings, the swimming pool that spanned them all, and the varied landscaping, “is the location at which the Noel-ni have suggested the two starfaring combatants hold discussions related to their war. The Etheric Empire has accepted the Yaree into their coalition, thus providing them protection. The Leath, on the other hand, consider the Empire’s efforts to stop the final acquisition of the Yaree’s planet as a further justification of the war which, they warn, could affect multiple species and systems in this part of space.”
Sia changed the view to a drone flying above the pool. “As you can see, this hotel is full of tourists and vacationers from all over space. There are over a thousand support personnel just for this hotel, and additional personnel have been brought in for the VIPs.”
Sia cut back to Giannini.
“Empress Bethany Anne will be meeting with Leath First Line Prime Commander Ch’lockteck, who is responsible for the military endeavors of the Leath.” Giannini pursed her lips. “Strict weapons constraints have been placed on both sides; no weapons are permitted. The as
sumption is that the talks should at least be safe, if not exactly quiet. One presumes the Noel-ni have seen the videos of John Grimes, as they have also demanded that no armored suits be allowed. All attendees of both parties to the accord will be inspected before being allowed to leave their respective ships. I’m told Empress Bethany Anne has brought all five Queen’s Bitches as her personal guard.”
She paused a moment before continuing, “We are sure our viewers will join us in wishing these peace talks all success. As we make our way inside to talk with those who have arrived, this is Giannini Oviedo reporting from Noel-ni planet Sertjal.”
Noel-ni Planet Sertjal, XerpresciechCoth Hotel, Three Days Later
Matrix was mentally bitching to TOM as he wandered through the hallways and backrooms surrounding the main conference area for the peace talks. The talks had been going on for two days now and the back-and-forth on petty issues had driven Matrix nuts, so he volunteered to go do something else.
They stuck him on outer perimeter guard duty.
This is just stupid! he sent to TOM.
Oh, and why do you think that? TOM’s voice came back over the communication chip embedded in Matrix’ skull.
I’m just patrolling around and around, doing nothing important. These aliens are going to start wondering what I’m doing, especially if I find a door I can’t open. I’ll just have to turn around. Before you ask, it’s annoying because it’s embarrassing.
You are still worried about how others perceive you, little one.
Bigger than you.
And that means what exactly, Matrix? Do you believe your physical characteristics somehow make you superior to others? Is this why the occasional door you can’t open upsets you so much?
Matrix went silent, pondering what he’d said as TOM continued his side of the conversation.
You wanted to see the cosmos with me, and to understand math. Neither of those activities require you to be a massive specimen of your kind. It’s enough that you have sharp mental characteristics and a willingness to travel. So tell me again, why are you upset about the physical issues?
I’m getting my ass handed to me during workouts with the Guardians. They change to their wolf form, and are so fast I can barely think quick enough to get away, much less attack.
Matrix stopped in the hallway, and the door in front of him slid open. He entered the large public area and padded through it, passing two restaurants and a small store before he found another unmarked door. After he waited in front of it for a second, it slid open and he jogged through it.
And the armor?
Matrix could feel the armor grow tighter as TOM mentioned it.
I hate it. It keeps bunching up the fur on my back near my legs. Occasionally it pulls a hair.
How often is occasionally? TOM asked, wondering if Jean had somehow missed a design flaw.
Maybe once a week, Matrix admitted.
I think you will survive, TOM replied. You are allowing your irritation with the armor in general to color your opinion about all the small annoyances right now.
It’s just so damned constricting, Matrix shot back. The scent hit him as he was finishing his thought. You can’t… One second.
Matrix sniffed again and recognized the odor as something he smelled when Darryl and Scott had been doing…
Target practice!
Two doors ahead of him opened and six aliens stepped out. He turned around and saw another two doors opening behind him. His eyes opened wide in alarm.
One of the aliens aimed a weapon at him. TOM! he screamed mentally. WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!
Matrix tried to run, but a bullet slammed into his body, throwing him down the hallway to crash into the wall. He lost consciousness as feet trooped by him. The last one in the group lashed out, kicking Matrix in the head.
16
There are assassins, Che’al thought, and then there is me.
The Noel-ni glanced down at the timepiece she wore on her wrist. It provided a visual representation of the time until her strike, allotted time to accomplish her task, and finally her time to exit the vicinity, all according to plan.
Che’al had been planning this hit since she was hired. It had taken her seven trips to bring all the parts she needed. None of them by themselves amounted to much, but once she took them out of their hiding places and reassembled them, she had one of the most powerful weapons a person might acquire for precise efforts such as hers.
Death was her business, and business had unfortunately been rather sparse, which was why this job had been such a godsend. Her contact had provided a significant portion of precious metals to fund the beginning of the job without any arguments.
It was always nice to work with other professionals.
She had pegged the client as military, based on the precise directions and information provided. She figured the contact was much more familiar with Leath than the Empire, since their information about the Leath group was more complete. However, the dossier on the Etheric Empire primary had been decent.
Her own resources had provided little more. The Etheric Empire’s effort to keep sensitive information under wraps had suffered when the Empress had visited the Noel-ni some time back. Some of the Empress’ abilities, or at least her armor’s capabilities, had leaked. It was universally presumed the armor she wore provided the ability to fire the balls of power.
Che’al was stationed just inside a small air-handling box on the south side of the large room where the peace talks were being held. She had been listening to them arguing, and she was just shy of thinking she might end her own life if she had to listen to more of this.
The Leath were being obstinate and illogical, and the humans were being protective and unyielding. It didn’t take a genius to understand these two would never achieve peace. This would be, Che’al decided, a mercy killing; these two factions wouldn’t have to work any longer on a lost cause.
She was counting down the final few moments before she connected the power source to her rifle. She didn’t know if the security below did active searches for unexpected power, but she’d rather be careful. If the options were not getting her hit set up in time or being found out, she would choose to fail her shot.
The other could get her captured, and capture would be the end of the line. Failure to make a hit was a black mark, but did not ensure a grisly death.
Her timepiece started thumping on her wrist, letting her know it was time to power up. She reached for the battery and slowly pushed it into her laser carbine, the little snick when it seated was all the noise it made. She lifted the rifle to her shoulder, looking into the room through the metal grate before placing her eye to the scope.
The gentle thump, thump, thump of the countdown on her wrist let her know it was almost time.
On the last thump, she squeezed the trigger.
Ch’lockteck looked very good in his uniform. His upthrust tusks weren’t very long, which was helpful for speaking but horrible for impressing the females of his species. He had been told to make these peace talks last for five days before he left in a righteous huff.
For the first day and part of the second, he had almost convinced himself the gods had decreed he would die at the alien’s hand.
He had an intelligence report on those across the table from him, and while Ch’lockteck was formidable, the guards around the woman knew their business when it came to killing. He didn’t doubt they would be deadly, even without their armor.
He just had two more days of this mind-numbing bullshit to go through before he could slam his fist on the table, declare these talks useless, and get back to attacking the very people he was staring at.
Perhaps he should study them further, get into their minds…
His eyes narrowed as he considered what questions he should ask. He felt rather stupid, not having thought about this before now.
Well, stupid or not, he would make up for lost time.
Bethany Anne watched the Leath across the table narrow his
eyes in thought. For such a different species, they had similar mannerisms and physical tells she could—
TOM! What the FUCK? she screamed mentally when her body was violently thrown to the side, her muscles controlled by the AI.
Then, her mind amped to vampiric speed, she heard the sizzle of melting plastic and twisted her head as her right hand protected her from slamming to the ground.
The back of her chair was melting and John was twisting and grabbing his leg, the smell of burning fabric reaching her nose from the burn hole in his clothes.
She hoped his armor had stopped it.
She hit the ground, turn her falling into a roll and working to pop up.
ALL MY PEOPLE! She sent out a mental shout. WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!
ADAM! she yelled, glancing at the hole in her chair and John’s leg and following the line of sight to where she thought the sniper must be hiding.
Ch’lockteck’s eyes opened in surprise as the Empress dove off her chair. He saw the beam hole in her guard’s leg as Ch’lockteck twisted to the side and pushed away from the table, but was not able to do much more.
A second beam hit Ch’lockteck in the back of the head, and his brain was instantly heated to well over a thousand degrees. As his brain cooked its moisture turned to steam, building up pressure in his skull until it exploded a mere few microseconds later. His body rolled forward as the chair continued rolling backward and his corpse hit the floor with a thud.
Che’al stroked the trigger of her rifle as she refined her aim, targeting the base of the Leath military leader’s neck. She ended up hitting him square in the back of his skull, since he reacted a bit faster than she had calculated.
Not that it mattered; she had allowed for some movement. Her ears picked up the screams just starting in the room as she pulled her eye from her scope to see what she had done to her first target.
That was when she realized she’d made the last mistake of her life.
Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set Three: Books 15-21, Never Submit, Never Surrender, Forever Defend, Might Makes Right, Ahead Full, Capture Death, Life Goes On (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets Book 3) Page 85