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Valerie’s Elites: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series

Page 7

by Justin Sloan


  “You’re a nutcase,” the bartender said. “You want to do what? Sex with all of what?”

  Valerie was so pissed at the situation that she was surprised at her urge to laugh. It hadn’t processed that swearing might produce the wrong translation. Either theirs wasn’t up to date, or it didn’t include curse words.

  “Ignore that. Bad translation.” She turned to one of the tough guys who was inching toward her. “The point is, we won’t just sit by and watch this. They lost, so get over it.”

  “They humiliated us,” the bartender said. “Losing to Wandrei. It’s our right to take their lives if we want to.”

  “And if they’d won?”

  The bartender simply frowned, not responding, but finally she sniffed the air and smiled. “Anyone else smell a warlord nearby? Maybe we go find us one, tell him what this Wandrei did. See how they deal with rulebreakers.”

  “You’re telling me this action is sanctioned?” Valerie scoffed. “An actual rule? If you lose to outsiders, you get torn up in an alley?”

  The bartender nodded. “And you’re obstructing justice.”

  “This place is royally fucked-up,” Bob said under his breath.

  “He’s right, Val,” Garcia chimed in. “Let’s roll.”

  “Listen to your friends,” the bartender said, “while you still have a chance.”

  Valerie wasn’t big on being threatened, but right now she was keenly aware of the mission and what becoming Tol’s most wanted Wandrei might mean.

  “We’re leaving,” Valerie said, ignoring the hushed protests from Robin and Flynn, who both apparently wanted to tear the tough guys new assholes. “But I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

  The tough guys were glancing at the bartender as if waiting for the word to pounce, but the bartender strode back into the bar. After a moment of confusion, the others started following.

  “Come on,” Valerie said. “We’ve seen enough of this shit show for now. Let’s find Kalan and see if he got what we need.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Planet Tol: Capital Market District

  Despite Duol’s best attempts to talk him out of it, Kalan wanted to get back to Valerie as quickly as possible.

  Duol argued—probably wisely— that he should stay off the streets. From the alert, it appeared that only Kalan had been photographed. Duol had been uninvolved enough that no one thought to snap a picture of him. For that, Kalan was grateful. It was stupid enough that he’d gotten involved himself. He was glad he hadn’t gotten this old male in trouble, especially after he’d been so helpful.

  Kalan said his goodbyes to Duol and slipped out the door, heading back toward the ship. He tried to raise Valerie on the communicator as he walked, but she didn’t answer. He hoped his antics hadn’t caused her trouble. It was all too possible someone might have seen them together in the spaceport.

  He was almost to the ship when his communicator chirped and he heard Valerie’s voice on the other end. She sounded about as stressed as he felt, and she gave him a new location to meet, a bit south of the spaceport.

  As he walked, Kalan stayed alert for the presence of any authorities, but his gaze kept drifting to the skyline. There he could see the twisting spires of the homes of the rich, far from the dusty streets where the poor wallowed. Just more evidence that things were messed up here on Tol, and in the Vurugu system as a whole.

  When he reached the meeting place, he looked around. Plenty of people were milling past, but he didn’t see Valerie or her crew among them. Then he spotted a shoulder sticking out of the shadows of an alley off the main thoroughfare. Creeping closer, he squinted at the figure.

  “Bob? Is that you?” he asked.

  The beady-eyed man stuck his head out of the alley and angrily motioned for Kalan to join him.

  He ducked into the alley and found Valerie and her crew lurking in the shadows.

  Robin frowned at him. “Subtlety certainly isn’t your strong suit. We’ve been on this planet, what? A couple hours?”

  Kalan sighed. “So you’ve heard about the alert?”

  “They were playing it over speakers in the street,” Flynn informed him.

  “Wonderful.” He turned toward Valerie. “How about you lot? Any trouble?”

  Valerie grimaced. “You don’t want to know, and I don’t have time to explain it anyway. You get the letter of introduction?”

  Kalan nodded and handed her the chip, explaining a little about its usage. “It’s as legit as possible, but it contains the DNA of this Marwood woman. If the warlord checks yours against it…”

  “It’ll get us through the door,” Valerie replied. “That’s enough.” She shook her head in disgust. “This planet needs us.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Robin reminded her. “To bring them some Earth-style justice.”

  Kalan didn’t even bother asking what that meant.

  Bob scratched at his head. “I don’t know. So we take out some warlord, what then? Another takes his place?”

  The words reminded Kalan of what Duol had told him, and he looked at Valerie. “You know Sslake, that leader I told you about? The one the people loved?”

  “Yeah, what about him?”

  “Turns out he’s not dead. They’re holding him in SEDE.”

  “The prison you grew up in,” Valerie confirmed.

  Kalan nodded.

  “Damn,” Bob exclaimed. “Somebody should bust him out of there. Maybe he’d be open to working with—” He stopped, catching himself, and glanced at Kalan. “Well, he’d be better than this Bandian guy. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Nice idea, but we have our hands plenty full taking out this asshole warlord,” Valerie said.

  “I don’t.” The words were out of Kalan’s mouth before he knew he was going to speak. They sounded insane, even to him, but something about them felt right. After the little things he’d seen so far on this planet and the things he’d heard about this Sslake guy, he believed that something had to be done.

  Valerie raised an eyebrow. “Are you really saying you’re willing to break into SEDE to rescue this political prisoner?”

  Kalan smiled, hoping they didn’t see through his bravado. “I’m willing to try. Look, I know the prison, and I know the prisoners. I think I even know a way to get there. And I’m a wanted man, so I need to get the hell off this planet anyway. Every leader I’ve ever known wasn’t worth their title. If this guy is… Well, I need to see that for myself.”

  Valerie nodded, a smile slowly creeping onto her face. “Then I guess you’d better know who you’re doing it for. My crew and I work for the Etheric Federation.”

  He drew a sharp breath. “I should have known.”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  In truth, he didn’t know much about the Etheric Federation. Just rumors. Some said they were in expansion mode, trying to force their way of life on every planet in the galaxy. Others said they were heroes, bringing freedom and justice everywhere they went. Kalan didn’t know enough to have an opinion.

  He met Valerie’s gaze. “I don’t have a problem with it. If you’re going to take down the Bandian and restore Sslake to power, that’s all I need to know.”

  “Good.” Valerie turned to Bob. “You’re going with Kalan.”

  The man went pale. “Wait, what?”

  Robin grinned. “It was sort of your idea. You said we needed someone to take the Bandian’s place, right?”

  “I didn’t mean…” Bob stammered. “All I was trying to say was…”

  Kalan held up a hand. “This really isn’t necessary.”

  “Actually it is,” Valerie said firmly. “I know he’s a pain in the ass, but Bob’s good with the high-tech stuff. And I get the feeling you’re not.”

  “Very much not,” Kalan admitted. He knew the physical components of engines, and could replace just about any part, but when it came to programming, he was lost.

  “Then it’s settled. You two go rescue t
his Sslake guy from space prison while we take down the most powerful warlord in the system.”

  “Man, we have the best jobs!” Garcia said.

  Kalan nodded along with the others, but in his head he was wondering what kind of crazies he’d signed on with. If this was their idea of fun, he didn’t want to see what they considered stressful.

  Valerie stepped up to Kalan and put a hand on his arm. “I know we haven’t known each other long, and I appreciate that you’re willing to do this. It shows me what kind of person you are.”

  He shrugged, trying to hide his blush. In truth, he didn’t consider himself all that good of a person. He did what he needed to do to survive. And yeah, if he came across someone who needed help he gave them a hand, but it was nothing more than that. “You’re giving me too much credit. I’m just a guy with a special knowledge of the prison who has nothing better to do.”

  Valerie looked him in the eye, her expression dead serious. “Maybe this will help you realize you’re more than that.” She turned to Bob and clapped on him the back. “Bob, you’re… You’re all right too.”

  Bob grinned like he’d been paid the highest compliment in the world.

  Kalan chuckled. “All right, Bob. Let’s see about catching a transport to SEDE.”

  “And how the hell are we going to do that?” he asked, his voice edgy with concern.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Kalan said, “but I know a guy.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Planet Tol

  Valerie watched Kalan go, knowing a lot of this mission now rested on his shoulders. She was all about trusting others, but considering that she had just met him and that he could end up dead as easily as he could succeed, she felt a twinge of worry.

  If that happened she’d never forgive herself, even though she knew there was nothing she could do. As for the mission at hand, she supposed her only move at that point would be to storm in and kick everyone’s ass until she got answers. Seeing as that wouldn’t help win these planets to the side of the Etheric Federation in the slightest, she did her best to push those thoughts from her mind and focus on the task before her.

  She had her papers and her point of contact. Now all she had to do was meet up with him and see what was needed of her, what her payment would be.

  Get it done and earn her way into the fighting contest. Easy enough.

  “Proceed with caution, and be ready in case there’s trouble,” Valerie told Garcia and Flynn.

  “This is some kind of shore-duty bull,” Flynn asked with a laugh. “Any of you find locals who want a real man, you send them my way.”

  Robin smiled and shrugged. At Valerie’s glance she said, “What? The idea of him with one of those short Skulla females is kinda funny.”

  “Don’t encourage the man,” Valerie replied.

  “Check back in so we know there’s not trouble,” Garcia said. “I’m not going to sit around all day with my fingers crossed, wondering what happened to you.”

  Valerie nodded, then wished them luck and nodded to Robin. Soon they were making their way back to the city and its vast spread of rundown shacks on this side, tall mansions and the like on the other.

  “There,” Robin stated, pointing to a large building that reminded Valerie of the arena where she had first found Robin. While that one had been in ruins, although partially rebuilt to function as the headquarters to the assassins who had trained her, this one had a smooth, gleaming surface that looked to be somewhere between metal and rock. Pillars anchored cloth that provided shade for viewers, and outside were massive statues of various monsters with sharp teeth, wings, and in one case tentacles.

  “Please tell me those are statues of mythical creatures and not some alien species,” Valerie said. “I don’t need my dreams going crazy on me.”

  “You and me both,” Robin replied.

  They worked their way around the place to a spot on a nearby hill that overlooked the arena, ignoring the several Skulla who glanced at them with curiosity as they passed. Already males and females were in there training. Some of the less-modified, clearly poorer-class fighters were training in one corner, and a large warrior watched, amused, from the stands.

  “This is where we’ll find the warlord,” Valerie said, not liking it already. She glared as they headed to the rear of the arena, where several subservient-looking Skulla lurked.

  What sort of civilization made people fight to the death? The way she understood it, outsiders gained a chance at joining society by entering the fights. Skulla, locals, and those who were already part of Tol’s society could fight to earn their way up in the social system, but the price of defeat was death.

  As far as she was concerned it didn’t make sense that anyone would fight. However, people got desperate. On top of that, Kalan had told her there was a whole pyramid scheme going on. Warlords would put a person up for a fight and if that person won, the warlord would get a cut of their future income. Then this victor might get their own person, a lowlander who would fight and give them a percentage, and part of that would then be paid to the first warlord.

  It was a complicated system, one Valerie detested even before having to fight and possibly kill anyone.

  But she had her orders.

  The two of them reached a wall that was mostly rubble and approached the nearest Skulla, a female with spiral tattoos like wind.

  “We’re looking for Warlord Palnik,” Valerie stated, flashing her forged chip, hoping that would be enough.

  The Skulla looked at her, frowned, and nodded to the group behind her. “They’re his, over there. Don’t be flashing papers quite yet though, or someone will take them.”

  Valerie nodded and was about to go when the Skulla held out a hand. “You one of those Federation types? We’ve heard about you.”

  “What’ve you heard?” Robin interjected.

  “The big shots warn against you.” The Skulla glanced around nervously. “Say you are trying to take over the universe. Well, I say good—hit them where it hurts. I seriously doubt anyone’s as bad as our current system.”

  “Is that right?” Valerie pursed her lips in thought, wondering how many other Skulla felt this way.

  “The name’s Orane. You know…if you survive long enough to make a difference here.”

  “I don’t plan on dying,” Valerie replied, “if that’s what you mean.”

  “You have the papers, you’re looking for Warlord Palnik… Certainly sounds like you’re looking to die. You’re going to fight in the Damu Michezo. Just know that whatever crazy warriors you had back on your planet, you’re going to need to multiply that times a billion in craziness here. So, as I said, if you survive and really plan on making a difference, look me up.”

  “Thanks,” Valerie said, not sure how to take that interaction. She nodded to Robin and the two meandered over to the other group, careful to keep the papers out of sight this time.

  A clearly modified Skulla with arms thicker than seemed natural was showing an odd version of a bow and arrow to his buddies. It was made of a pure white wood, and the arrow was crafted from an orange metal.

  “This little fart-sucker will blow out a wall,” the Skulla said, pulling back on the arrow. “Take down the wall, then just send in the guns. Easy. As. That.” On the last word he let the arrow fly, and it hit an old vessel that looked very similar to the antigrav Pods Valerie was used to back home.

  The vehicle exploded into a ball of flames.

  “Ten thousand snits,” the Skulla said, beaming until he noticed Valerie and Robin. “Oh hell no, what the hell are you supposed to be? Talk about ugly! I didn’t know they made them that tall.”

  Valerie tried not to laugh, considering that this Skulla resembled a tatted-up prune. His forehead folded in wrinkles, one eye was clearly larger than the other, and the thick arms made him look way off-balance. Maybe this was what the locals found attractive?

  “I’m told you’re affiliated with Warlord Palnik,” Valerie stated, sta
nding tall with her thumbs tucked into her pants.

  The Skulla glanced between her and his buddies, who were starting to back away.

  “No, wait…” he started, but they broke for it—all but an especially short one with fewer tattoos than the rest. The first Skulla turned back to her and glared. “You owe me ten thousand snits.”

  “I have no idea what a snit is, nor any intention of paying you,” Valerie replied.

  “You are looking at the next champion of the Damu Michezo,” Robin interjected, gesturing to Valerie as a priest would a god. “They will call her amazing, but you can call her ‘Valerie.’”

  The Skulla furrowed his thin brow. “Is this some sort of routine you two—whatever you are—do? Listen, the only reason you’re still alive is because you mentioned my master’s name. If you owe him money and he found out I was the one who took it or killed the chance at regaining it… Well, that wouldn’t be good. So talk. Do you owe him money?”

  “I’m here to speak with him.”

  The Skulla stared. When neither Valerie nor Robin spoke for a few beats, he started laughing. “You’re either the toughest little wolo this side of Aranch or just plain stupid. Which is it?”

  “Why don’t you try her and find out?” Robin offered.

  “Thanks,” Valerie said, turning to her friend and not even trying to hide her irritation. As she turned back to the Skulla a fist slammed into her jaw, knocking her backward.

  This little bastard was strong!

  “Come on, then,” the Skulla said, setting aside his bow and arrow. A couple of the others moved in to watch.

  “I’m here to speak with Palnik,” Valerie hissed, “not humor you with some street brawl.”

  “A little demonstration of good faith,” the Skulla replied. “Show me what you’re made of, so I know you’re worth my time.”

  Again he moved to attack, but this time Valerie used one of the techniques Garcia had shown her, simply sidestepping and grabbing the little male from behind, leveraging his momentum to flip him onto his back.

  “We done here?” she asked, pinning his chest with one of her boots.

 

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