Might Makes Right (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 18)

by Michael Anderle

  “Any chance someone is going to be able to tell we gated in?” Bethany Anne asked.

  “Only if they were looking right here when it happened,” TOM replied.

  Darryl spoke up. “You mean it approaches a hundred percent, then?” He looked at his Empress and saw Bethany Anne gazing at him with a raised eyebrow. “What? If this was a movie or a book, then the one-in-a-billion chance that someone saw us would be a ‘yes, they did, and they would have a battleship ready to pounce on us.’”

  TOM snickered in her head as she turned to view the instrumentation. “You have a point, but I’m going to choose to believe the probability is infinitesimal.” She unbuckled her belt. “You might as well make yourself comfortable. It will be a few hours until we get to the port, which is good. It’s morning there now. By the time we arrive it will be early in the evening.”

  “Perfect time for barhopping.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, tell me something about yourself,” she asked.

  “Well, you know the basics,” Darryl replied. “Special Forces, sandpit operations, on loan to Frank’s group when all hell broke loose.”

  “Two siblings, brother and sister. Both parents passed away, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Why stick with me in Florida?” she pressed.

  Darryl smiled, “All this time, and this is what you want to talk about?” He shook his head. “Sure, I guess it’s time. Hell, Natalia is wearing me down.”

  “Should I put my fingers in my ears and go la la la?”

  “Wear me down, not wear me out.” He chuckled. “I’ve got the special nanocytes, so I don’t ever have to worry about wearing myself out.”

  “LA LA LA LA LA!” Bethany Anne had her fingers in her ears as Darryl shook his head. She pulled the fingers out an inch and asked him, “Are you done yet?”

  “Sure, sure.” Darryl smirked. “My brother was an ass, really into himself, and he went down the wrong path. I sent money to my sister for ten years, until she finished college and got married. I gave her and her husband the money for a down payment on a nice home in an upper Chicago neighborhood, and the last I knew they were popping out little nieces and nephews. Their plan was to have six babies.”

  “I’m sorry.” Bethany Anne glanced down before looking at him, knowing they had most likely died. “They didn’t want to come with us?”

  “Bethany Anne, I never asked,” Darryl admitted. “They were fairly liberal, and when the group of people they hung around with decided they were against the war, I got thrown out with their previous concepts of family. It wasn’t but three weeks later I got asked to go on a very special assignment, one they had to admit had a high probability of dying for my country and so black that you might as well just have told your family you wouldn’t be back.”

  “Frank’s stuff?”

  Darryl nodded. “Yes, Frank’s stuff.” His eyes went a little vacant. “It was hell fighting across the US like we did, but in our group,” he looked at her, “it wasn’t about if you were white or black or red or whatever color you might be. It was us against them. Those we fought might have been fellow Americans before, but when we fought the Nosferatu we were protecting the rest of our country from something truly evil. It was the walking dead day after day after day. Our rest days were used to travel to the next outbreak, forever heading east across the country, until we hit Florida and the final showdown.”

  He sighed. “If I had died?” He shook his head slowly. “I would have died with family. My brothers, who had fought in hell right beside me, and this one scrawny little woman with a mouth that would embarrass sailors.” He smiled, talking like she wasn’t right next to him.

  “I got to tell you, she was hell on wheels. You could feel her passion, her need to protect all of us. She was like a momma bear looking after her cubs, but shit, we cubs all towered over her.”

  He took a deep breath. “I’ll never forget that day we choppered out of those Everglades and then set back down. None of us spoke about what we were going to do, but we didn’t need to. By then the four of us could read each other’s minds. We stepped off that copter, and if anyone had wanted you, they were going to be coming through us.”

  He turned to gaze at her once more. “You got to remember, you were the boogeyman, the Baba Yaga, the vampire, the enemy. So when you came back for us, we were a little worried someone might try to off you right there at the end if you were too tired.”

  Bethany Anne reached out and put a hand on Darryl’s shoulder. “I never knew that.”

  He shrugged. “You didn’t need to know. You had our backs, we had yours.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, smiling to himself. “Baba Yaga. Maybe we should start using that as your code name.”

  Inside her mind, ADAM gave Bethany Anne an update on the name and the Slavic mythology behind it. She snickered. “Ok, I like most of it except the old crone thing.” She paused a moment, her eyes narrowing. “However, that gives me an idea.”

  She laid back in the pilot’s chair, “If I scream or something, ignore it. It’s just some pain I need to get through. TOM?” she called.

  “Yes?”

  “How long will this take? Don’t want Darryl to worry.”

  “Probably at least two hours. He will see the changes, of course, if he wants to, and he can ask me anything while it is going on. However, I’m going to put you under so you don’t feel the pain.”

  “Ok.” She turned to Darryl. “Baba Yaga?” She nodded. “Baba Yaga indeed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Planet Leath, Tienemehn, Defense Planning

  “I’ve called you here in order to see if we have a shot at attacking the Etheric Empire directly.” First Line Prime Commander Tehrle looked at his war council. It included four from the Navy, four from Intelligence, and four from the Army. “I’m aware that we have a contingent who are asking why we don’t attack them and get it over with, and who think the Etheric Empire will be attacking us directly.”

  He paused a moment to look up, as if he were searching the skies above their location. “Which they won’t.” He returned his focus to the Leath at the long black table in front of him. “Now, I could give a few explanations, divulge previous reports from the honorable previous First Line Prime Commander, but I would rather give our Intelligence group a chance to show footage of their base in action.”

  Prime Intelligence One stood and nodded to those in the room. “We have pulled together videos of Etheric Empire ships provided by others, plus some video from our own ships when we engaged with them over the planet Karillia.” He touched a button on a remote he was holding. “This video is our ship-to-ship action over Karillia. You can tell that the humans and Yollins move their ships more independently than we do, yet they still seem to be able to protect each other. When our ships decide to do something independently…”

  He pointed to a ship that had attacked one of the smaller Etheric ships, causing considerable damage. Everyone was excited by the destruction until the video advanced and their ship was blown to pieces. “The Etheric Empire takes every opportunity to destroy ships who stick their tusks too far out.

  The previous excitement took a dip when the Leath ships started dying. “We are outclassed and outgunned on a ship-to-ship basis so far,” he clicked another button, “but here is a video many of you have seen. I am bringing it back up in this meeting to set the context.”

  He pointed to the screen, his voice deep and his speech slow. “The main Etheric Empire ships were drawn into the Straiphus system due to a Navy uprising by the Kolin and Chloret castes. The upper castes did not appreciate the new Empress’ edict that all Yollins were created equal, and they revolted. I have to give them,” he clicked a button and a multi-system map showed, “respect for coming up with a daring plan, and it worked at first.” He clicked the button again, and the display showed a line going from system to system. “Most did not know the Yollin superdreadnoughts could gate themselves. It was a huge
secret, so imagine the Etheric Empire’s surprise when all their main ships were suddenly in another system.”

  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 s
ign 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.