This time the video showed one Yollin dreadnought and multiple offensive support vessels gating in. “Then these Yollin Navy vessels, crewed by the dissidents, showed up.”
Audio came online, but it was in Yollin so, with a slight lag, an interpreter translated both sides of the conversation. “This is the Ministry of Defense warning the captain of the superdreadnought to back off.”
Prime Intelligence One looked down the table. “He refused.” The intelligence officer didn’t have to see what was happening on the screen; he could tell when a massive beam left the battle station and melted the opposing force.
“That,” he pointed behind him to the screen, “is what awaits those who enter the system without permission. We don’t know how many shots it can fire between cool-down periods, or if it can fire more than once a day. We could try to overwhelm the battle station’s offensive ability by staggering our ships to come from multiple directions. There is no way the battle station can flip and attack all the ships in a sphere. However, then we are reduced to fighting a ship-to-ship strategy, and that strategy is not a good solution at this time.”
“I thought those videos were propaganda?” Second Navy Line Commander Bok asked, nodding to the screen.
“No, this video was prepared by our spies in the Etheric Empire itself and verified by research. That weapon is real.”
First Line Prime Commander Tehrle nodded to Prime Intelligence One. “Thank you for that presentation.” He looked down the table at the rest of his council. “If any of you believe we can go running and gunning into the Yollin system and overcome them easily, then you need to reconsider, ask intelligent questions to explore your belief, or give me your resignation letter. I’m not going to have someone with more stupidity than wisdom helping me overcome these non-believers. The gods have spoken, and the Etheric Empire is our next challenge.”
Second Navy Line Commander Bok asked the question the Prime was waiting to hear. “What happens when we beat them?”
Tehrle’s smile was genuine as he looked up and down the table, “The gods provide us access to the next level of technology.”
Torik, Third of the Seven, adjusted his robes and pursed his lips as he looked at Var’ence, Sixth of the Seven, and commented, “Are we being smart by withholding the next level of technology?” He nodded to the video of the meeting they were watching. “The enemy seems to have advanced technology beyond what we have provided.”
Var’ence was quiet for a few minutes, pondering the question. “Truth is still truth. It is not our place to change the path. They survive and mature, or they do not. It is the process a species goes through to confirm they are capable of handling the next stage of their evolution to greatness.”
She shrugged. “It is the way of the Phraim-’Eh Clan. We are not the Reben or the M’nassa, who would shape their children against the truth.”
Torik bowed his head to her wisdom and went back to watching the video.
Port Sharn, Section T-772, Tramp Princess
Darryl looked at his Empress and rubbed his jaw. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way…”
“Uh huh?” Bethany Anne looked at her friend. Both of them were standing just inside the airlock as they listened to the cycling of the connections that would allow them to exit their ship.
“You are flat hideous,” Darryl told her. “But you didn’t do anything to your body, so my mind is fucked up.”
Ashur barked his agreement.
“I refuse to walk around in an eighty-year-old body,” Bethany Anne told him. Her hair was mostly grey, with streaks of darker gray that almost looked black. Her skin was wrinkled, including her hands, and had marks that looked like age spots. She lifted her hand. “Even seeing these hands bothers me. A girl has to have time to age gracefully.” Their door started to open and the two turned to look outside.
“And let me tell you, two hours isn’t enough time,” she finished. The large flat dirt expanse where over forty-plus spaceships rested was a very dark rust color. In the distance there were a few mountains which had greens and blues up the slopes, but down here in the valley there wasn’t much but rocks and dust.
All three were wearing nose and mouth respirators. The atmosphere wasn’t technically poisonous, but it wasn’t very good for humans or canines, either. Their nanocytes could have helped them breath, but that made no sense since they could use what Bobcat termed the “Bane Rebreather.”
Plus, it helped hide their faces just a little more.
She walked down the steps to the ground. Darryl came down right behind her holding two backpacks, and he handed one to her. Ashur had jumped down and was looking around.
She noticed that his hair color was slowly changing to match the dirt.
Sliding the backpack over her shoulder, she made sure she had access to her pistols and pouches. She cinched up her backpack and had ADAM secure the ship.
If anyone comes near, take off and we will regroup. This ship doesn’t get captured.
>>Understood.<<
“So what did you do on your vacation?” Darryl said out loud, then answered himself in a higher voice. “Nothing much. Went to a new spaceport, found horrible aliens, and killed them.”
“You sure you weren’t a Marine?” Bethany Anne asked as she walked past him, hands grasping the backpack straps.
“Hey!” Darryl caught up to her. “Special Forces. Watch your tongue.”
Bethany Anne grinned. “Still have a bit of rivalry in you?”
“Always,” Darryl admitted. “Doesn’t matter how long it’s been. If your headgear is different than the other guy’s, we have to see who jumps higher, runs faster, throws harder, or…”
Bethany Anne smirked. “Pisses farther?”
“Right, that,” Darryl agreed quickly.
The two of them made their way across the landing zone, only seeing one vehicle in the distance moving a group of aliens to a ship that was sitting on legs. It looked like a Saturn V rocket ready for takeoff.
“Not much for worrying about people coming or going, are they?” Darryl asked, keeping an eye out around them. He had his hand near his Jean Dukes special and it was already dialed up to eleven. There was no way he would allow anything to attack Bethany Anne without maximum response being directed back toward the other side.
“Nope,” Bethany Anne agreed. “Just like I like it.”
Darryl heard the change in her voice, and he felt the calm before the storm descend over him. In SF, he had been responsible for more than a few enemy disappearances in the night. Now, with this small planet’s star receding into the distance and night falling, they were here to do it again.
Bethany Anne looked toward the fifteen blocks that made up the small spaceport. There were two avenues heading north to south, and four heading east to west. Some additional buildings huddled on the outskirts, but they were like the casinos outside Las Vegas that weren’t either downtown or on the strip.
They weren’t major players.
“Plans?” Darryl asked as the two of them followed a group of rowdy aliens down the middle of the street. Apparently only a few vehicles came down here, and those that did weaved in and out between pedestrians.
“Find them, confirm them, kill them,” Bethany Anne told him. “Baba Yaga is the Queen Bitch’s Avatar, and she has been commanded to dispense her displeasure.”
“Oh.” Darryl grinned as the three of them walked down the street. “So, same shit, different planet?”
“Terrorists are terrorists,” she replied. “I don’t care if the payment is money or faith. You don’t take jobs against the Etheric Empire and expect to survive.”
Darryl looked around to see if he could find any hints about where they needed to go. “Kind of a zero-tolerance protocol.”
“Very zero.” Bethany Anne pointed toward a building a block away. “ADAM says there is a sign pointing to that building we need to check out.”
“That’s got to be helpful,” Darryl mentioned as the two
moved forward. “Kind of late asking, but what about money?”
“Gold. It’s universal,” she replied. “Almost every species has a use for it, and some fucktards have gone to planets, mined the shit out of them, and moved on.” Both stepped to the side as a vehicle passed them on the left. “Did I tell you TOM verified that an alien species went to Earth eons ago, mined a shit-ton of our gold, and left?”
“Nope.” Darryl lowered his left shoulder as another alien, this one looking like a quadrupedal blue fish, walked straight into him. The fish-alien bounced off, stumbled back, and tripped. It landed to Bethany Anne’s right and started bitching up a storm.
“Baba Yaga,” she said in Yollin, kicking the alien’s forehead and knocking it out, “doesn’t appreciate your tone of voice.” As the two passed it she added, “Nor you trying to get in our way.”
There was some laughing around them at the casually violent response, as if these aliens did it all the time.
“You!” a deep voice called, and the two turned to see a big Shrillexian in the street. “That was my friend!”
“You think it was his friend?” Darryl asked.
“Unlikely. Maybe shipmate.” Bethany Anne shrugged. “You or me?”
Ashur chuffed, and both told him “no” at the same time.
“Oh, definitely me,” Darryl said as he swung off his backpack and dropped it next to Bethany Anne. He moved toward the Shrillexian. “Got a name, dirt-nap?” he called.
“Oh, yes. And you will be singing ‘Cosol’ as I pound you into the dirt,” Cosol told him, and spit into the dirt street.
“Doubt it, Cosol,” Darryl replied, and ramped up his speed. Cosol’s snap-kick was blocked by Darryl’s armored shin.
The Shrillexian pulled back his cracked foot and moved to his left as a few others walked over to watch.
Bethany Anne picked up Darryl’s backpack. “Apparently Baba Yaga needs to explain the hierarchy of pack mules,” she grumped. She slung it over her shoulder as she stepped closer to the fight. A brown eight-foot-tall walking mass of muscle was moving toward the same spot as Bethany Anne, and gave her what she felt was an ugly face as he slotted himself into the circle, blocking her view and taking her place.
“Now that was just rude.” Bethany Anne lashed out with her right foot, knocking a leg out from under the alien and causing him to fall backward. He was quick, swinging his right appendage around to hit Bethany Anne as he twisted into the fall the kick had caused.
His fist met her forehead with a crack, breaking his fingers. She dodged, and he missed his grab and rolled into the dirt. Bethany Anne tossed the packs down. “Baba Yaga’s spot, asshole,” she spat in English.
He obviously didn’t know the language. She said the same thing in Yollin, then Torcellan. He apparently understood the last. He roared and sprang at her from the ground, expecting to wrap her up and take her down to pound her.
Instead, she slammed her fist into his skull with her feet set on the ground, stopping his momentum cold. His body slumped straight to the dirt. “Baba Yaga is not pleased with your attitude,” she told the comatose body.
“You think,” Darryl called, and Bethany Anne turned to see both him and the Shrillexian staring at her, as well as the rest in the circle, “that maybe Baba Yaga can stop taking my cool?”
“Baba Yaga was trying to watch you take out the Shrillexian when she was accosted,” she called back. “She’s too damned old for disrespect.”
Ashur chuffed.
“Whatever,” she told him, then picked up the backpacks and stepped into the opening in the circle. The aliens on either side moved half a step away and Ashur parked himself next to her.
Darryl turned back in time to catch a nasty right hook from the Shrillexian. He stepped back on his right foot, but that was all he did as he reached up and wiped the blood off his cracked lip.
Cosol noticed the alien’s healing ability was faster than his own.
“That all you got?” Darryl asked. “Because I’m going to open up a ten-gallon can of whup-ass on you.”
“I got that and a bit more,” Cosol told him as Darryl’s forward kick caught him squarely in the abdomen, picking him up and tossing him two body-lengths backward into three aliens who got too close. The move took all four of them down.
Darryl walked over to the four squirming beings and grabbed Cosol’s foot. He pulled him out of the mess and heaved, throwing Cosol over his shoulder to fly back toward the ground. He landed so hard it made Bethany Anne wince.
“He still your friend?” Darryl asked the stunned Shrillexian. “Cause if he is, I’ll just knock your ass—”
“Of course he is my friend.” Cosol had moved his foot under him and he pushed off, driving his fist up toward the alien.
Who caught it, stopping his fist within inches. “Now this is more like it,” Darryl commented as he slammed his knee right into Cosol’s face, breaking his nose and sending him back onto his ass again.
“Baba Yaga is getting bored,” the old lady called, and the animal next to her chuffed.
“You need practice,” Darryl told him as he snap-kicked a shot to Cosol’s forehead, knocking him out. He walked through the circle to Bethany Anne, who tossed him his backpack.
“Let’s go,” she told him. “That was a nice warmup, but I’m ready for the main event.”
Waless Bar, Port Sharn, Section T-772
The Tulet pointed to a rectangular table near the bartender. “That group over there is the one you’re asking about. Though,” Farl caught the Tulet’s attention, “you know who they are?”
The Tulet nodded. “Darkness for Hire—what’s left of them. They disbanded for like three months because they tried to operate against the Leath and the Etheric Empire. The Leath haven’t said anything about it, but the Etheric Empire has said they will go after the mercenary group if they ever find them again.”
“Out here?” the Tulet asked.
“No, hope not,” Farl answered. He drew a drink and gave it to a waitress before he continued, “Otherwise I wouldn’t have them in my place. I don’t think the Empies would come out here.” He glanced over as the doors to his bar opened and two new aliens came in. His eyes narrowed. “Well, damn.”
The Tulet turned around. “What?”
“Those are humans. Only humans I know of are Empies. I’ve no idea who that shorter one is, but she looks old for their type of people, so maybe this is a warning mission. The dark one looks like muscle.”
Farl considered his next move as the two humans went straight for the back of the bar. He was reaching for a pistol he kept under the bar when a voice spoke in his head.
I am Baba Yaga. I am the nightmare in your dreams…
Which, the voice hissed, you won’t have any more of, if you touch that weapon.
Farl pulled his hand away from the gun and looked at her. The old human was staring at him, eyes glowing red.
“That makes thirty-three new recruits,” Caster told the Tulet next to him. “I told you, make me Leader and we will come back from the dead. We had a setback, that was all.”
Caster looked up to see two humans coming toward him. He reached for the pistol but stopped, his hand on the butt. The old human had her pistol pointed at him. “The Empress…” she began loudly, and the whole bar went quiet.
I’ve got behind you, Darryl sent to her.
Chuff, Ashur added, keeping watch on his side.
“…told Darkness for Hire she would not allow the mercenary group to survive after attacking her at the peace conference.”
“It was a job,” Caster spat. “We lost, we left.”
“It was an attack,” she shot back, “and the attack is not finished until the Empress says it is finished.”
“What makes her think she is right?” Caster asked. “We have operated this way for generations. Mercenary companies stick together.”
“Mercenary companies don’t scare Baba Yaga,” she told him. “The Empress told me to make sure Darkness for Hire
was disbanded.” She pulled the trigger and Caster’s head exploded. She turned and shot his second, who was next to him, blowing his hand off at the wrist.
The one to Caster’s right had already started bringing his gun up when Bethany Anne’s next two shots entered his chest and blew his insides out his back. She turned and eyed the bar, “Now, those were the most recent leaders of Darkness for Hire, which had been warned to disband on pain of death. Hello,” she nodded her head to the bar. “My name is Baba Yaga, and I’m Death. Who else is a member of this mercenary group?”
No bodies stirred. She casually placed her pistol back in her holster and crossed her arms. “Ok, now that I’m not holding a pistol, how many members do we have?”
Fourteen of those sitting in the bar started moving. Ashur took off and Bethany Anne was slammed in the chest by someone who had palmed a pistol and shot her from underneath a table. His head exploded a microsecond later as Bethany Anne fell back against the table behind her.
Ashur ripped his arm half off when he jumped across a table, grabbing the wrist in his teeth and holding onto it as he landed on the other side. The hand spasmed, shooting the alien to his right in the leg.
Farl was considering going for his weapon when the mess degenerated quickly. The one who called herself Baba Yaga stood back up, gray hair floating, face on fire. She started throwing multiple streaks of red light, blowing bodies apart in her anger.
“The Empress said no Darkness, or you die.” She walked toward the front of the bar, and as she was passing a table with three aliens with their hands on the table she casually backhanded one, the table breaking his face when it slammed into the surface. “That includes shooting Baba Yaga in the back. You try to shoot me or mine, I will kill you too.”
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 90