Payback Is A Bitch (The Kurtherian Endgame Book 1)

by Michael Anderle

  If they lived to have headaches, that is.

  The problem was the idiots in WCH-HHU 342 (five up from the rear) had gotten a bit excited and started prepping their missiles in advance. This was against the rules of engagement and, frankly, against common sense.

  When molten tungsten slag had hit the third missile down the row the kinetic energy had transferred to it and the heat had overridden the temporary lockdowns.

  The resulting explosion had set off every missile in the armored vehicle.

  Two eye-blinks later the missiles in the next two trucks detonated as a result of the previous explosions; the mercenaries in the vehicles were already dead.

  In the distance, the armored humans who were still firing their pistols were tossed backward by the shockwave to slam against the rocks behind them. Then they were swept over them and out into the surrounding desert area.

  Fortunately for them, their armor had antigrav as well or their landings might have been a bit rougher.

  —

  Tabitha hit the button to call the Black Eagles. “COMMENCE!” she ordered and her own ship plummeted out of space.

  Although Michael’s voice had come over her earpiece, it was the explosions they could see from the video drones miles away which had caused her to order the attack.

  There was no way she wasn’t coming down when it looked like Michael might be in trouble.

  “He will be okay, Kemosabe,” Ryu told her. “If you will but check the signals from their armor on screen two, they are mostly green.”

  Tabitha stabbed the screen Ryu was talking about and confirmed that while all five suits of armor had spots of yellow, none of the bodies they protected were in trouble.

  Yet.

  The group was no longer together, though. “Damn, what happened down there?” she murmured as her ship broke through the upper atmosphere, but then enemy ships and explosions started popping up on her HUD and she was too busy to think about his absence further.

  “All Overwatch, attack.”

  The babble of confusion from the enemy airships was rapidly replaced by radio silence as her twelve Black Eagles sent one-pound pucks (kinetic antigrav missiles) through them.

  The airships fell and their dying crews rained down to the ground below.

  —

  John had kept his head down when the explosions hit. Fortunately he had been behind a rock large enough to block the wall of air that had blasted over them, but Scott, who had been some ten yards away, was picked up and tossed over the lip of the valley.

  Michael had been the first to disappear.

  He had been firing the first shots of their offensive when the explosion hit. He had been able to turn his head, but the shockwave didn’t care how many hundreds of pounds his armor weighed.

  He was gone.

  John located Darryl safe in a shallow ditch, but he couldn’t find Eric.

  Scott’s name lit up in John’s helmet display. “Oooowwww. Did someone hit me with the world’s biggest bat?”

  “Where the hell are you?” John demanded. The burning inferno some half a mile away told him none of the armored vehicles were operational any longer.

  Three dots appeared on his HUD. Scott wasn’t too far away; maybe three hundred yards over the lip of the small valley. Eric was about four hundred yards north of Scott, and…

  John whistled. “Are you really a mile from here, Michael?”

  “It seems,” Michael’s clipped voice told him over the comm, “that reducing the weight so one doesn’t slam down should be done later, not as soon as you recognize the danger.”

  John clicked off his mic as he chuckled, but once he’d gotten his laughter under control he reactivated it. “Sorry. I suppose you should have more training on using the armor.”

  “Not a problem,” Michael replied. “I see from the remotes that we have no more enemies?”

  “Yes,” John replied, using the zoom on his visor to check out the burning wreckage. “I can’t find any metal pieces longer than my arm, and certainly nothing organic is alive.”

  The men were quiet for a moment.

  “MICHAEL!” Tabitha’s shout interrupted their conversation.

  Airships had started falling from the sky around John, although most were off in the distance.

  One of them impacted directly on Michael’s icon.

  6

  High Tortuga, Thirty Minutes Outside the Queen Bitch’s Base

  Tabitha’s scream had barely finished reverberating through the ears of those on the attack channel when Michael’s icon appeared a hundred yards away from the crashed airship.

  “What?” Michael asked in response to Tabitha’s scream. “I’m fine, Tabitha. A random piece of airship isn’t going to catch me by surprise. I have over a millennium of experience fighting; a conditioned second sense honed over time that reacts to danger on the field of battle and—”

  There was a click and Darryl interjected, “And a radar connected to your HUD that warns you with plenty of time to spare.”

  “And armor that warned me in plenty of time,” Michael gamely finished. “Not that I would have needed it, but it was squawking in my ear.”

  Tabitha’s sweet voice was now a little less strident. “I’m going to come down there and yell at you.”

  “What?” Michael replied, “I’m sorry, the connection must be bad, Overwatch. I’m sure you wouldn’t leave us without proper air cover just so you could feel better.”

  “No,” she answered. “I wouldn’t.”

  Tabitha left the attack channel.

  “Michael,” John began as he left to visually confirm the enemies who had been taken out of action, “I suggest that next time you stick your head into danger neither Bethany Anne nor Tabitha know of it.”

  Michael looked into the sky as he headed back toward their ambush location. He opened his visor for a moment, which cut his mic off.

  “Women!”

  Planet Soboth (Previously Territory 7732), Undisclosed location, Open Out-ring, Non-Federation

  Az, the CEO of a multi-planet corporation, shuffled the company’s legitimate papers to the side, leaving one in front of him. "I see that we have more to discuss about our resources on planet Devon." He glanced at Uleq and Imon. “Anyone want to go first on what happened?”

  Uleq looked at Imon and nodded to indicate he should discuss the point. It was more of a military operation than white-collar, and that was usually where the two of them broke up the responsibility.

  Imon wasted no time getting to the salient facts. “Our mercenary group, hired completely on Devon and with no traceable connections back to us, failed. From the generic satellite imagery we were able to acquire, the missiles exploded and teams were destroyed some ways off from the supposed base location."

  Az asked, “The airships?”

  “None returned to base.”

  Uleq jumped in. “Our cutout is secure?”

  Imon nodded. “I made sure to purchase their services through multiple cutouts. One of those, unfortunately, is no longer with us due to an unexpected attempt to fly from his balcony. That cutout was on another planet.”

  Uleq’s Torcellan eyes scrunched in confusion. “I thought he lived on the second floor?”

  “Apparently,” Imon replied dryly, “he decided to go up to the roof before jumping.”

  Az reached up to scratch beneath his right eye. "You seem to be taking a lot of precautions, Imon. Do you have further intel that would warrant such efforts?" Both Az and Uleq watched Imon for any cues as to his thinking on the subject.

  Imon shrugged. “In general, the feedback I am getting from the planet—which is more and more difficult to locate transportation to unless you own your own ships—is that this Baba Yaga is clamping down on the whole planet. However she is accomplishing it, the changes are benefiting the general populace so you won't see an uprising. Whatever her PR campaigns are saying, they're doing very well. I see no popular irritation, except from the criminal underground and
those lining their pockets in the political system. Perhaps a few bankers and businessmen as well." He shrugged. "Believe it or not, it seems like she is presently working in the best interests of those on her planet.”

  Az shook his head and stabbed a finger on the table. “I don't believe it." He crossed his arms and leaned on the table as he thought out multiple options. What would he do if he were taking over the planet and investing trillions and trillions in capital? "There has to be a longer game here. No one comes in and purchases a planet without the express intent to make a profit. This Baba Yaga has to have hundreds if not thousands of backers. We are in contact with more than ninety percent of the billionaires and all but one of the trillionaires. No one has spoken about an operation on Devon. It doesn't make any sense…unless I am not seeing other options?" He looked at Uleq.

  Uleq kept looking at his tablet for a moment before he realized that Az had stopped talking. “Do what? Oh, could she have other reasons for doing this?" He looked back down at the tablet and tapped it. "Everything I'm seeing here suggests she has, to the best of her ability, taken over most of the interstellar operations. This is of course how she took over our efforts there. Unfortunately we had the Gauger hostile takeover going on and we failed to notice her efforts early enough.”

  Az nodded. “That was a difficult project.”

  If one called the acquisition of several hundred billion in credits, fourteen suicides (including three of the top twenty-four people due to a bullshit staging of graft in the ranks), and switching out one small national president “difficult.”

  On the plus side, within four years they would be profitable on the acquisition and control another hundred and fifty million in populace through other cutouts.

  There was always another path to slavery. You didn’t have to own people outright; you could use the tax system. Since it made sense that governments needed income, and they did, you implemented a tax on top of it.

  Usually ten percent was a safe number.

  Uleq's hand swiped across his tablet once, twice, thrice. He shook his head. “I see no gain for her until between twenty and thirty years in the future. She would have to be willing to have her capital locked up for a long time and put trillions of credits into this planet to receive the long-term benefit." Uleq looked at Az. “Can you conceive of a military reason for Baba Yaga to do that?"

  Az's eyes narrowed. “Military? Hmmm. That is a good question. I'll have to think on that and see if perhaps one of the other military powers is investing here. If they are," he chewed on the inside of his lips for a moment before reaching up and scratching his chin beneath his left tusk, "we might have to consider dropping our efforts on Devon. It would hurt our bottom line for the quarter, but I don't want to get involved with any of the major powers. That would be a losing proposition. However," he looked at both of his partners, "if she is not allied with one of the major powers? Then I say we not only disrupt her plans but take over what is left of her infrastructure afterward and own the planet outright." He shrugged, a smile growing on his face. “Why should we waste what she has built for us?"

  Uleq nodded. Imon had handled the first project, and now it was his turn. He put the tablet down on the table so his partners could see the map displayed on it. "Okay, our mercenary operation didn't take. Here's what we plan to do related to banking and infrastructure."

  High Tortuga

  The Zhyn businessman wiped off his sleeve. He was waiting for some males who would normally use this area of the tunnels to chat after their day was through.

  Lerr’ek was under the orders of the Mistress of the Planet and wanted to get this done before he retired for the evening. A few years back, he had offered his services for ten years in exchange for not dying right away.

  It had seemed like a good thing at the time.

  It had been some years since he had made the deal, he was now itching to move on. He had overseen the construction of the spaceport for Baba Yaga’s ships, and he had acquired ownership for Baba Yaga in most of the locally-based interplanetary companies—and certainly all that mattered.

  He had been told that the others would be handled.

  Zhyns might be aggressive by nature, but they weren’t stupid. He had been taken into the Etheric—and while time causes one to forget, he would never forget the pain Baba Yaga had used to get his attention.

  It was the ultimate reason he had never tried to betray the dark-faced demon with the white hair. He had been entrusted with the secret that Baba Yaga was the Empress, or rather, now Queen again.

  He didn’t care. The two women were very different when he spoke with them, so he would continue to treat them as separate entities. His handler was Stephen, one of her most trusted advisors, brother to her mate and now High Tortuga’s Business Lead.

  The first of the Rough Males (as Bethany Anne had called them after she’d first seen them in a spy video a while back) Lerr’ek had been waiting for arrived with a work bag, a drink, and fresh bandages on his face.

  Lerr’ek stayed in the shadows.

  Lerr’ek? Bethany Anne spoke into his mind.

  “Hmm?” he replied sub-vocally.

  How would you like to leave business behind and work on an anti-gang-warfare project?

  Lerr’ek considered his options. “How is the pay?”

  Do you always negotiate?

  “In my experience, asking after the agreement is concluded doesn’t work.”

  Smart Zhyn, she replied. How about this: you take care of this gang and these males and I reduce your sentence from ten years to time served?

  Lerr’ek didn’t answer for a moment. “If I get rid of this gang—these males—I am free?”

  Well, they need to be alive when you’re done.

  “I can’t guarantee that.”

  Don’t actively abuse them. I want you to train them to support the local area.

  “You want them to become police officers?”

  Call it a neighborhood watch. Eventually we want to have the capability for rapid intervention, but not yet. Right now we need a group that is fighting back with the support of Baba Yaga. You have the smarts and the military background to help accomplish this.

  “Agreed,” he replied.

  Wait…agreed that you will do this, or you agree you have the military background and smarts to accomplish what I want?

  “All of it,” Lerr’ek answered. “However, what happens if I wish to leave Devon?”

  High Tortuga.

  “Whatever.” He smiled. He had been playing the “name this planet” game with the Empress (he really couldn’t think of her any other way) since she had gotten back.

  We will have to erase some of your knowledge before you leave, unfortunately. You would end up on another planet with a fake diary and a lot of money in your account. I can’t say I would wish that on you, but making you stay and be a slave here because you were useful wouldn’t be a very good way to show my appreciation.

  It wouldn’t, but it beat a gunshot to the back of his head and an unmarked grave. If he were here, it might be the solution he would have picked back when they first met.

  Soon enough the other five Rough Males arrived. “I have to go. I have some anti-gang-warfare efforts to see to.”

  Later. She removed her presence from his brain and he had his thoughts to himself, again. He started to slowly make his way closer to the group of aliens.

  —

  “That was a punch!” someone in the group exclaimed.

  Cr’ehg clicked his mandibles together in satisfaction. With his own version of armored plates, the Yollin had played a large part in the fight between the six of them and the three toughs from the gang that had tried to claim their area of the city.

  He put his arms up. “We did good!” Each of them raised his drink in Cr’ehg’s direction. “Now we need to keep watch in case they show back up. I can’t believe they won’t try it again.”

  “You still worried about Baba Yaga?” Lerr’ek noted that t
he speaker was Beruth, the Baka who had addressed Cr’ehg’s concerns on the video.

  “Yes, of course,” Cr’ehg tapped his mandibles together. “She could be anywhere. If she thinks we did this outside the law, we might find a demon in our bedrooms when we wake up.”

  “Actually…”

  All six of the males turned to find a blue-skinned Zhyn leaning against a large crate just ten paces away.

  “Who are you?” Beruth demanded. “And why are you down here?”

  Lerr’ek straightened and walked toward the group. “I’m here to give you a message.”

  Beruth nodded. “Well, say what you have to and be gone.”

  “Oh, it’s not from me.” Lerr’ek pulled a small round device out of his pocket and held it out in his palm. He touched a button on the side. “She wants to talk to you.”

  Only the Yollin caught on when the larger-than-life hologram appeared above Lerr’ek’s hand.

  The head slowly swiveled to stare at the six Rough Males.

  Her face was human, her skin black, her hair white, and her eyes glowing red.

  “My name,” her voice, guttural and raspy announced to those assembled, “is Baba Yaga.”

  7

  High Tortuga, Northern Continent, Thon (Third Largest City), Haroom Sector, Lower South by Southwest Quadrant, Subsection H, Two Days Later

  Ricole, her tail twitching, strode up the steps to Thon’s newest public building. The Library had been installed just a couple of months ago by Baba Yaga.

  Since her interaction with Bracht and his gang she had stayed away from the building, concerned she would be busted for being in the middle of the fight. However, curiosity was driving her to see and know more.

  She had learned her lesson; she would never be without protection again. She had weapons with her everywhere she went now. It had been very fortuitous for the security to arrive on the scene, and very advantageous (for her) that Bracht was an asshole, sure he could brute-force his way to success. Unfortunately he met up with a group that didn’t care…and didn’t tolerate mistakes.