Might Makes Right

by Michael Anderle

“Yes.” Yelena nodded. “But do we franchise, or…” She saw Cheryl Lynn’s face. “Ok, we stick with our own people.”

  “I get that you are thinking profit,” Cheryl Lynn replied, “but we can’t trust a franchise, even if they are vetted by us in advance. We want complete control, and no one should be able to question us.”

  “I’d suggest a profit-sharing plan as well,” Stephen added. “Further, we need to figure out something as amazing as the window into space for each bar.”

  “Ooohhh!” Yelena’s eyes went distant. “Each bar is absolutely unique, one of a kind in that area of space.”

  “Yes. Determine the best things about this bar and replicate to the best of our ability,” Stephen agreed.

  “Keep them in the Etheric Empire for now,” Cheryl Lynn added. “We don’t want to be in the jurisdiction of another polity.”

  “Do we keep the All Guns Blazing name?” Yelena asked. “So we could have an All Guns Blazing Straiphus for example?”

  “That brand is priceless,” Cheryl Lynn told them. “Plus, we will sell clothing and merch. Further, I think we need to do some sort of challenge for our customers to try all the liquor, and if they do they get a patch or something.”

  “You know how the merchant ship crews like their buttons and patches.”

  Stephen’s eyes opened. “I like that,” he exclaimed. “Imagine someone walking around on another space station with half their vest full of All Guns Blazing patches?”

  “Walking marketing.” Cheryl Lynn nodded. “The kind that pays us and then promotes us.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Empress’ Suite

  Bethany Anne walked into the large closet and looked around. The room was about twenty feet by thirty feet and had all sorts of sections for clothes that were relevant to each role she played and even sorted by what species she had to meet with for an event.

  She hated most of it.

  She gnawed on her lip, her mind considering the ramifications of what she was considering. So far she had been pretty good at hiding her thoughts from her two tag-alongs.

  Just then Ashur padded into the room. Matrix is finally going to his self-defense lessons without me having to pester him.

  Bethany Anne looked at the white German Shepherd standing just inside the doorway. “He should since he almost got his ass handed to him permanently.”

  Bellatrix was livid. I think she had a bit of a scare again. It took Yelena a while to calm her down.

  “Mothers! Can’t live with them if they worry… Ok, never.” She continued her look around the closet. “How are you?”

  It hurt when I thought he was dead, but we spoke about that. I used to hate the armor as much as he did, so I understood his annoyance. However, I’ve been better… What are you doing?

  Restrict your questions to me only. I don’t need Nosy Nancy One and Two to start asking questions before I understand what’s on my mind.

  Ashur walked a few more feet into her closet and dropped to the floor with his tongue hanging out. We going somewhere we shouldn’t?

  Maybe.

  Good. I’m bored.

  Maybe not. You are pretty hard to hide. Your damn picture has been spread across the systems. Hell, I understand there is actually a doll of you over in the Torcellan system.

  Think again.

  “Huh?” Bethany Anne caught the amusement in Ashur’s mental voice and turned back to him. “How are you doing that?” she asked, when she saw that Ashur had changed his coat to a light tan and his feet to black. She walked over to him and knelt, stroking his fur.

  You can stop that sometime next week.

  “Yeah, you are a glutton for punishment,” she told him as she checked her hands. She grasped a few hairs and examined them in the light. “Wow, how do you do this?”

  I worked with TOM. Apparently if you can control the nanocytes, you can modify your body structure. I’ve been working on changing my fur color for a little while. Bellatrix and I are going to go to the costume ball as each other if she can figure it out.

  Bethany Anne dusted her hands to get off the hair and stood up. “That gives me an idea.”

  TOM?

  Yes, Oh Most Wonderful of Wonderful Organic Vehicles? What are we doing in the closet?

  ADAM?

  >> Yes, ma’am?<<

  Kiss-ass.

  >>Wait until she can pull you out and stomp on your head, then you might have a little bit more respect.<<

  She can already shock me, and we both know she won’t kill us.

  Are you two quite through having a conversation in my head?

  Sure, for the moment, TOM agreed. Still curious why we are in the closet. I know for a fact you have nothing on your schedule for a week.

  Exactly. Both of you are commanded to not divulge where I am until I allow you to state otherwise. And that means no hints either, ADAM.

  Where are we going? TOM asked. She could almost sense him wanting to move her eyes so he could look around.

  Have you read the story, The Prince and the Pauper?

  >>Yes, as of a second ago. We have no Prince..ess.<<

  No.

  Bethany Anne wanted to roll her eyes as ADAM updated TOM.

  >>There was a prince who wanted to go out of the castle, and he found a fellow who looked just like him. They switched places so each could experience the other’s lot in life. Unfortunately for the prince, no one believed he was the prince when his father died on the throne while he was away. It was written by Mark Twain in America in 1881 as a parable to not judge a person by his appearance.<<

  I highly doubt anyone is going to sit on Bethany Anne’s throne while she is gone.

  No one wants it, so that is why it’s safe, Bethany Anne jumped in. Make sure you guys are locked into whatever projects and have what you need.

  Who are you bringing along? TOM asked. When Bethany Anne didn’t reply, TOM sighed.

  Well, shit!

  Bethany Anne went to one side of her closet near the back corner and pushed some dresses to the side. She grabbed a box and pulled it out, then walked toward her dressing table. Dropping the box on the table, she pulled off the top.

  Folded neatly inside were some old leather pants, three Under Armour shirts, and some old holsters. Bethany Anne ran her hand over the leather and cracked a smile.

  ADAM, send a message to Reynolds.

  >> The space station Reynolds, or the superdreadnought?<<

  Well, fuck, Bethany Anne mused. Really didn’t think that through too well. The ship. Tell him to start powering up.

  Why aren’t you taking ArchAngel? TOM asked, curious.

  Everyone expects the Empress to be on ArchAngel, that’s why. Plus, Reynolds has something I want.

  TOM connected to ADAM and the two went through the manifest. So far, neither saw anything out of the ordinary.

  What could she want?

  Planet Leath, Main Continent, Leath Navy Department, R&D, Third Level Underground

  First Line Prime Commander Tehrle nodded his head at the two second line Navy strategists he passed as he walked down the hall. For once he didn’t have five others dogging his steps as he went to his meeting.

  It was refreshing, actually.

  When the previous First had sacrificed himself for the greater good, Tehrle had been ready to step into the position and move forward with new plans. Unfortunately, he had to deal with some politics at the same time.

  Then Prime Intelligence One got involved, and there were two sudden leaves of absence by the military’s top brass. Tehrle’s troubles settled down, allowing him to focus on beating the Etheric Empire.

  Security checked him one more time before he walked to the final door—no window in it, just a vast amount of metal—which was opened by a guard. He strode through.

  In this meeting he was going to find out what changes their ships needed before they could overpower the Etheric Empire.

  Further, he was going to meet the Sixth of the Sev
en after this meeting to see what the gods could provide, beyond what the Leath had been able to figure out. Sometimes he wished the gods would just tell them what to do, not focus on allowing the Leath to come up with ideas in the first place.

  But he was a military man, so he preferred to get to the point. His job wasn’t to help nurture people to greater heights, and if he remembered anything from his time in school, the gods were here to nurture them, not give them handouts.

  He sure hoped that nurturing was the right strategy. If it proved not to be, Terhle believed this Etheric Empire would eventually be on this planet killing his people.

  If he didn’t do it to them first.

  Tomorrow he would start the strategy sessions, and together his council would work on two major offenses to crush the Etheric Empire under their feet.

  Now, if the Etheric Empire would just give them a few years to get setup, all would be perfect. He pursed his lips and realized he would need to sacrifice some ships over the next few seasons to keep the Etheric Empire focused on small battles and not the war.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds

  “This is John Grimes,” the voice said over the speaker system in General Lance Reynolds’ office. The general turned and raised an eyebrow when the video came to life. “Have you seen Darryl, by any chance?” John asked, annoyed. “He hasn’t shown up for his first shift.”

  Lance’s door opened and Cheryl Lynn stuck her head in. “Bethany Anne anywhere? No one knows where she is.”

  Lance’s eyebrows started to come together. “Come on in, Cheryl Lynn, and close the door.” He turned back to the video. “When was Darryl due?”

  John’s lips pressed together. “Two hours ago.”

  Lance looked at Cheryl Lynn. “One hour.”

  The door opened again, and Admiral Thomas and Kael-ven came into the general’s office. “What the hell are you missing?” Lance asked the two gruffly.

  Thomas, his face annoyed, slowly switched to thoughtful. “What are you missing?”

  John spoke up from the video. “A Queen’s Bitch.”

  Cheryl Lynn added, “The Empress.”

  “And a superdreadnought that happened to have the missing Bitch on it,” Thomas finished.

  John spat a curse. “So, how did we lose Bethany Anne again?”

  “She has a week off,” Cheryl Lynn pointed out. “I bet if I look, there will be a request for vacation or some other note in my inbox.”

  Lance put his fingers up to his eyes, and started massaging them. “She’s going to give me a Gott Verdammt migraine.” He looked at Admiral Thomas. “Yes, I know, I’ll heal.”

  He looked at everyone in his office. “Ok, folks, back to business, but quietly start getting stuff prepared in case we have to stage a rescue.”

  “If?” John chuckled. “I mean, I assume you don’t mean rescue Bethany Anne, but rather to rescue someone else from Bethany Anne.”

  “It was so much easier on Earth.” Cheryl Lynn shrugged her shoulders when she saw Kael-ven look at her with a question on his face. “Back in the good ol’ days. She might disappear for a few hours, then she would be back and happy again for a while. We would hear that this terrorist group or that terrorist camp had been destroyed, and no one would know why.”

  “She always got busted by the description of the sword cuts,” John continued the explanation, able to see Kael-ven turn his head in his direction from his side of the video. “No one else on Earth had the strength to decapitate a bunch of men fighting in the dark. She said it was therapeutic.”

  “What we are sorely lacking,” Admiral Thomas spoke up, “is a small group of extremists she can kill. What we do have are systems full of bad people who might take her a few years to decimate.”

  “She only has,” Cheryl Lynn looked down at her tablet, “six days.” She turned it to Lance. “Here’s her vacation request.”

  Lance reached for a cigar, stuck it in his mouth unlit, and chewed on it for a moment before looking at the admiral.

  “Well, shit.”

  QBS Reynolds

  “I’m telling you, we are going to have to change your name,” Bethany Anne was sitting in the chair behind the captain, speaking to the visage of her father on the screen.

  “Because humans cannot ascertain which Reynolds you are speaking about from the context of the conversation?” Lance’s gruff voice was appropriate, she thought.

  “Hell, my own AI couldn’t tell, because I gave him no context, so shut the hell up and start thinking about name changes. The Reynolds back there,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, “has dibs on the name.”

  “But I am Reynolds,” Lance’s voice shot back.

  “You are the son of Reynolds, basically,” Bethany Anne told him. “So come up with a name, and we will tack on Reynoldsson at the end to denote your sire.”

  This time the EI was silent for a moment. “How about your father’s middle name?”

  “Alexander?” Bethany Anne thought about that a moment. “Ok, but just be ready to answer to Alex as well.”

  “I can certainly make that change to the programming.”

  “You are hereby christened ‘Alexander,’ or ‘Alex.’ Natalia?” Bethany Anne waited for the Captain’s Chair to spin around enough that the captain could answer.

  “Yes?” Captain Natalia Jakowski asked her Empress.

  “Preference?”

  “Let’s stick with Alexander. It isn’t often used, so it will be easier to call a person ‘Alex’ and the ship ‘Alexander.’”

  “Ok,” Bethany Anne stood, “fine by me. Make the adjustments. I’m going to go speak with my annoyed protector.” She turned to her left and walked off the bridge.

  Outside the door, Darryl was standing guard. “Ready?” she asked him.

  “I hope you know John is going to be pissed.” Darryl started walking right beside her as they went down the hall.

  “Of course. It will do him good.” Bethany Anne turned left and Darryl had to double-time his steps to catch up. “Actually, it will do me a lot of good, and him a little good.”

  “What is the plan?” Darryl asked.

  “You, me, old clothes, a clunky ship that just happens to be in the hold of the Alexander—”

  “Alexander?” Darryl asked.

  “Sorry, I renamed the ship. Well, technically he renamed himself. It was a pain in the ass to have a battle station named Reynolds and a superdreadnought called the same,” she answered.

  “A couple of us were wondering,” Darryl admitted as they came to Bethany Anne’s suite.

  The single guard stepped aside and the two of them walked in, the door sliding shut behind them.

  “Well, it’s done now,” she admitted, grabbing a box from her table. In this suite there were couches, a large dining room-looking table where she held meetings, and some chairs. “I’m going to change, so go get into some civvies that make you look normal.”

  Darryl noticed Ashur to the side. “Uh, what happened to you?” he asked.

  I changed the pigment in my hair. It is an advanced ability TOM says is rare. Tabitha has been trying to work on herself for a while with little success, Ashur replied.

  “Well, you look, different,” Darryl answered, “but don’t lose your white. It’s a classic look,” he called over his shoulder as he stepped out of the room.

  —

  Bethany Anne was bemused as she and Ashur watched Darryl load the small spaceship with boxes of weapons.

  “Real armor, for when we go into battle,” he said as he slid a box into the hold.

  He turned and picked up another case. “Four beam rifles and sixteen extra ammo cartridges for said rifles,” he called, and slid it in.

  “Case of grenades.”

  “Two months’ worth of nutrient pouches.”

  “We are only going to be gone four fucking days,” Bethany Anne told him, looking at the pile of boxes behind Darryl. “It will take you four days to load all this shit on the ship.”

  �
��Case of Team BMW portable shields.” He loaded it while Bethany Anne’s head turned from right to left to right again.

  “Case of Team BMW pucks, remote-guided.”

  “Small case of four Etheric energy boosts, usable by you, of course.”

  “Another case of Jean Dukes pistol rounds.”

  “Case of skin armor.”

  Bethany Anne rolled her eyes. “I’m going to get the ship warmed up,” she told him. “You act as if I’m going to start an interstellar war or something.”

  “I’ve got no idea, but I’m going to be like the Boy Scouts. I’m going to be prepared.”

  “Whatever,” drifted back from inside the ship as she walked to the cockpit.

  —

  The QBS Alexander receded into the distance as Darryl confirmed what he could with the controls as he sat on Bethany Anne’s right in the two-seat cockpit. “Why does everything look so old but work so well?” he asked.

  “This is my little ship,” Bethany Anne answered, flipping two switches to her left. “ADAM, take over for a bit.”

  ADAM’s voice came over the system. “Which location did you wish to visit?”

  “Do we have any info on which spaceport is the worst?” she asked.

  “Port Sharn, Section T-772 in the borderlands is reputed to have a group of Darkness for Hire mercenaries reforming their group.”

  “Oh, that is perfect.” Bethany Anne’s eyes flashed red. “I warned them not to do that.”

  “I don’t think they are worried,” Darryl pointed out. “We are way more than a couple days’ travel from there in this ship.”

  She whispered, “Oh, but there you are wrong, my friend.”

  “Yes.” TOM’s voice came over the speaker. “Welcome to the—so far only—small ship in the Etheric Empire which can gate.” There was a pause, “Please don’t scratch the paint, Bethany Anne. We don’t have another one.”

  “I imagine that if I scratch the paint,” she replied as she belted in and gestured to Darryl to do the same, “neither one of us will be alive to care.”

  “Wait, what?” Darryl asked. “I didn’t get a last kiss from Natalia.”

  Bethany Anne checked a couple of screens for TOM’s sake. Then, just as she confirmed the last information, she said, “Hope you got some last-minute nookie last night.” She looked over and winked as she told ADAM, “Punch it!”