Never Surrender (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 16)

by Michael Anderle

  The video showed some b-roll of the other location and people milling around as the reporter continued speaking over the clip, “Then, it’s reported, they kicked him over and over again, leaving him severely injured. I understand others nearby called in medical support, and were able to provide him supportive care. The lower caste member suffered multiple head wounds and cracks throughout his chest and arms as he tried to protect himself. These upper caste members were shouting against the alien Empress Bethany Anne, who challenged and defeated our Kurtherian infested King just mere weeks ago. The whole revolution has upended our religious and societal understandings as many of those at the top are contending that the video of the King was faked. They are also accusing those of us in the news for supporting the overthrow and are critical of us giving our support to the aliens. There has been a lot of strain between caste members as all Yollins seek new equilibrium in our relationships with each other."

  Pehl-eck ducked her head when a large explosion reverberated down the street from the building behind her. Turning, she gasped in shock when she saw the destruction wrought by those inside the building. It appeared that they had used military weapons on the rioters surrounding the building chanting at them for hurting the low caste Yollin.

  There were now bodies lying in the street as screams of pain and fright could be heard all the way from her location.

  She put a hand up to her mouth and continued reporting. "Oh my God! The upper caste members have attacked the rioters around their building! This is no longer merely an angry group of people yelling insults and throwing stones at each other. This is now a war zone!"

  Pehl-eck turned back to the camera. "We all know that changes in society can be hard, however, what will be done to those that refuse the edicts coming down upon us? That is an open question that I would like to ask the Empress of the humans. What are you going to do to those members of the upper castes that refuse to accept that all Yollins are equal?"

  Pehl-eck waved a hand, the gesture encompassing the building and the dead and injured people behind her. "Will there be any justice for these people? Or is this something that we Yollins will have to figure out ourselves?"

  CHAPTER THREE

  Spaceport outside minor city, one hour from Planetary Capital

  "I see you're not drinking some of that new revolutionary stuff," Ghyr-lihk asked Captain Maek-ven as he slid into the booth the Yollin occupied. The lights were low in this spaceport bar. Usually, it was the haven of captains and upper ranked officers.

  Ghyr-lihk had fully expected to find Maek-ven here after the operation to get the spice.

  Maek-ven glanced up and gave Ghyr-lihk a small smile. He reached out and pushed the half-empty amber liquor bottle toward him. He pointed. "You might want to take a bit of that. Considering how the operation went, we need to toast a fallen comrade. It’s the least we can do."

  Ghyr-lihk raised an eyebrow. "Don't mind if I do. Although, if the rumors about him are true, Ster-hel was an asshole. I'm not sure if I will be drinking to his demise or toasting the fact I don't have to deal with him again."

  Capt. Maek-ven nodded in agreement. "Yep, he ignored orders one too many times, confident he had the ability to call upon the ship’s armament to save his ass. This time, it didn’t happen."

  Ghyr-lihk uncapped the bottle and held it beneath his nose, nodding his appreciation at the fine aroma. He raised the bottle and gave a salute to the captain before he went and poured his glass a quarter full. Putting the stopper back in the bottle, he put the bottle in the middle of the table with a thump. "Did you pay for the good stuff to honor the missing?"

  Maek-ven chuckled dryly in response to the question.

  "That's what I thought. So, just why are you paying for the good stuff, Maek-ven?"

  Capt. Maek-ven looked around the bar. It was mostly empty. There were the two of them, a waitress that was drying glasses behind the bar, and the barkeep, who was off to the side half asleep. He turned back to his friend, "Every once in awhile, you get sent on an operation where you see enough bad shit that it allows you to appreciate living again."

  Ghyr-lihk’s mandibles clicked in confusion, "From a human? I've seen a few of them, they don't look like much. What happened to get you all messed up like this?"

  Maek-ven reached forward and grabbed his glass, swirling the liquid around, before raising it and taking a sip. He lowered his glass and eyed his friend, "Let's just say, that there are apparently some humans you don't want to piss off."

  Ghyr-lihk waved a hand, "Come on, there's got to be more to it than that. Ber’knick has already said that Ster-hel was ripped apart if you believe him."

  Capt. Maek-ven chuckled once more, setting his drink down on the table. "You see the bottle right there, Ghyr-lihk, the one that's half empty?" Ghyr-lihk nodded. "I cracked that bottle just a few hours ago when I was finally able to release the built up tension from the operation."

  "Did the human try to cheat you?" Ghry-lihk asked.

  Maek-ven shook his head, "No, in fact, I would say he was the most up and up druggie I've ever had to deal with."

  Ghry-lihk frowned, trying to understand the situation "Is that why you trusted him, he's a druggie?"

  Maek-ven’s mandibles clicked twice in agreement, "Yes, I know the power of drugs. He wants a drink that's created from these ingredients, one that his leader has banned. If he can get us to make these drinks, everyone is blessed and he gets to come down here and have the drink that he wants. I can understand that motivation, and I can even agree with it." Maek-ven looked up and met Ghyr-lihk's eyes. "But let me tell you something. Don't ever, and I mean ever, try to buy his animal if he says no."

  Ghyr-lihk noticed Capt. Maek-ven's hand start to tremble as he finished his thought. "Just leave him well enough alone."

  QBBS Merideth Reynolds

  "My point," Bethany Anne spoke to the Yollin representatives, "is that the planet is poorly utilized. You have been told that you needed to expand into space, but it’s without any justification."

  "That is just not true," Chr-taleen replied. "We have the calculations necessary to support why we needed to go into space."

  If Bethany Anne had known that she was going to have to help rebuild the planet, she might have been more tempted to just let the king live.

  It had not taken too long, if you had artificial intelligence entities, such as ADAM, and an understanding of the Kurtherian mindset, compliments of TOM, to understand what Koll had accomplished on Yoll.

  Using machinations over generations, he encouraged the Yollins to believe they had outgrown their world. Then, he used religious texts, that he had written, to further support efforts to take over other planets and enslave their people.

  If you wanted to be strictly analytical about it, she could appreciate his plan. Unfortunately for Koll, she wasn't analytical enough.

  "Chr-taleen, I am about to drop over 1,000 pages of scientific documentation that is going to prove, if you are willing to pay attention to the facts, that this planet is only thirty percent utilized. That includes twenty-seven percent for foodstuffs, thirty-six percent of arable land, and seventeen percent for cities and communal areas. In fact, we could bring back every single one of the Yollins that are presently off-world and still only be at forty-seven percent utilization of this planet. If I have to get one of those religious bibles that you have and beat you around the head with it until you understand, I am willing to do it!"

  Bethany Anne’s eyes flashed red, reminding the Yollin just who he was speaking to.

  Chr-taleen sat back in his chair, his mandibles grating against each other. "How much time do I have to review these documents?"

  "You have three turns of your time to make a decision as to what you will or won't believe. If you choose not to believe, I will allow you one opportunity to make your case. If you cannot scientifically argue, and win, your position, you will have the option of stepping down, stepping aside, believing the new information to be true, or being eject
ed off of a spaceship going toward the sun. The choice will be yours."

  Chr-taleen's mandibles stopped moving. "I do hope that is multiple-choice, even if I choose not to believe the information provided me?"

  Bethany Anne chuckled. "The being ejected from a spaceship is only if you really, really tick me off. I don't mind a logical argument, but I abhor someone being obstinate just for the sake of being obstinate. Should you choose not to believe this information, and you have no good reason why? I would suggest you retire from your job early.”

  >>Bethany Anne?<<

  Yes, Adam?

  >>We are receiving information that there is an uprising in one of the smaller outlying towns. Started by those previously of the second level caste, there are now injuries and potentially deaths on the scene. More of the press are heading in that direction. However, my interpretation is this is going to require force.<<

  Bethany Anne put a finger up to stop the communication directed at her. "I apologize, there is an issue on the planet that I urgently need to review." Bethany Anne picked up her tablet from the side. Adam had already queued up the necessary news report for her to watch. He piped the information straight into her ears so she could watch the video, but no one else would hear the video playback.

  As she continued watching, those at the table noticed her eyes starting to grow red, it was obvious something on her tablet was causing her to become angry.

  A moment later, one of her security men walked into the room. Chr-taleen recognized him as the one called John Grimes, due to his size. He bent down and spoke to the human leader. Chr-taleen noticed that her eyes went from being a bright red to dimming, and then soon to her normal colors again.

  She nodded sharply, and her security guard turned and left the meeting room.

  A moment later, she was ready to continue their conversation. Chr-taleen took the opportunity to ask a question. “What has happened?" He pointed around the table. "We saw that something upset you," he pointed to his eyes, "your eyes started to grow red again."

  Bethany Anne smiled in a way that Chr-taleen recognized was not meant to be pleasant when she answered, "There has been an uprising which has hurt Yollins. Those in the upper castes are not pleased with me abolishing the old system, and are upset that they must now pull their own weight. Some of those who are upset have decided to try their hand at violent responses. Should I have gone down there, I would have had to restrain my reaction."

  Chr-taleen was confused. "If you had gone down there, you would've had to restrain your reaction? How would you have preferred to react?"

  "I have no patience for those who are upset and resort to violence. We can have conversations without it. As the Leader of the humans who have now annexed Yoll, I would have had to be nice in this situation, or risk creating a larger issue with my reputation. By reacting personally, my reputation might have been manipulated in the press." She nodded toward the door where her guard had left. "Now that John has gone down there?” She looked at those around the table.

  “Their life isn't worth shit."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  E’Kolorn, previous Defense Minister under King Koll, reviewed the book in his hands for a moment, clicked his mandibles twice in annoyance, and then threw the book across the cell. It’s loud SLAP and then fwhomp as it hit the hard, rock floor was barely noticed as he thought about his life.

  His life had been a lie.

  He glanced over to the religious text, pages he had ripped out over the weeks he had been here in isolation as his mind ran thru past scenes of him working for the King.

  For a damned Kurtherian!

  It took a moment for his mind to register the click-click-click-click of someone walking down the hallway. He glanced up from the couch where he was resting, and over towards the metal door and the opening where he might see a face.

  Any face.

  He looked back down, ignoring whatever was going to happen to someone else in this cell block. No one was going to come looking for the false King’s Defense Minister.

  It didn’t matter that his efforts had been for his people, his world. Even at the end, he had made a decision that ignored the king’s commands and maneuvered the King into accepting the challenge.

  His mandibles opened and paused there before they slowly closed.

  E’kolorn supposed if he was honest with himself he did have a small part to play in the demise of that royal rotten bastard. If it wouldn’t mess up his little cell area he would spit at the mere thought of that Kurtherian puppet.

  Kurtherian… What a kick between the back set of legs that was.

  A female voice called out louder as E’Kolorn wondered if he could rip his sheet apart and use it for ear plugs.

  He didn’t want to hear anyone enjoying a conjugal visit.

  It was another couple of calls of the woman’s voice before he looked up, realization dawning on his face. “Rea-behk?”

  “It’s about time you recognized your wife’s voice!” she answered. “Can I come in?”

  E’Kolorn looked around his room, thanking whoever was escorting her for the thoughtful act of not letting her see immediately into his cell. He got up from the couch and went to his bed, laying the sheets out nicely, “One second,” he called out.

  He kicked the false bible under his bunk and grabbed three pieces of crumpled up pages and dropped them into the trash can. Thank his ancestors he at least kept himself presentable.

  “You can come in!” he called out. He was standing by the back wall, which was proper anytime the guards opened the door. The viewing window on the door slid open. He recognized one of the two guards, who nodded to E’Kolorn, confirming his position and opened the door.

  It was but a second before his wife darted in, and they met in the middle of the cell.

  He never heard the door clang softly shut behind her.

  Nor did he know that there was a human with the guard, making sure this meeting occurred, and it was respectful.

  It had taken Kael-ven five weeks to confirm the state of the Defense Minister’s mind, and his activities during the battle for the Yollin system. How he had acted, whether properly, and due to whose orders.

  It had taken Bethany Anne about five minutes to decide they needed him.

  If he could be trusted.

  After the hallway door had closed, Eric nodded his appreciation to the security guard. “I’ll be back here to escort her safely up to her quarters on Space Station Rig-turrik.” He handed the officer a small device. “If they have a spat or something, just click that and I’ll be back shortly to take her back early.”

  Wut-ven looked down at the device and back to the human. “You expect them to finish early?”

  Eric shrugged, “I couldn’t tell you enough about Yollin relationships to answer that. I’m just basing it on human relationships, and I can tell you from recent experience, one small comment, meant in the nicest way, can upset a female in the most illogical manner possible.”

  The guard clicked his mandible twice in agreement and pocketed the device.

  Some foibles of relationships, Eric decided, crossed species boundaries just fine.

  Personal Ship “Powerdrive,” exiting Commercial Gate Five, Yollin System,

  Ring Three

  Shi-tan reached over and engaged the autopilot. He was surprised by how efficient the Yollin space traffic control was operating, considering they had been taken over by a foreign power not too long ago.

  His ship, which could hold him easily, and one other semi-pleasantly, was not capable of making interstellar jumps by itself. Therefore, he had to transfer between solar systems using the transfer gates. While he waited for the controllers to provide his ship with instructions, he reviewed the documents and information he could find related to traffic coming into the system.

  It seemed that, surprisingly enough, these humans had increased the commercial traffic into the Yollin system, not decreased it.

  He stood up from the pilot's seat and stre
tched his seven-foot-tall frame. As the Scion of a great warrior line, it was embarrassing for him to be categorized as a mere bounty hunter.

  However, it beat becoming a mercenary in his book.

  Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint, his race was known for their hot tempers and quick violence. While he was a little better controlled than most, it wouldn't take much for his anger to inflame, and the spikes in his face to slide out of his skin, letting anyone who knew what was happening, realize how close they were to being broken in half.

  He reached up to his right ear and unhooked both of his earrings. Fingering the larger of the two, he sighed and reached down to the pilot's chair, opening a small compartment and dropping them in. Once finished, he closed the compartment and turned to walk toward the small stateroom on his ship.