by Justin Sloan
CONTENTS
LMBPN Publishing
Dedication
Legal
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Author Notes - Justin Sloan
Author Notes - PT Hylton
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Other Books by Justin Sloan
Other Books by PT Hylton
Other Books by Michael Anderle
Michael Anderle Social
JUSTICE EARNED
Valerie’s Elites Book Four
By Justin Sloan, PT Hylton and Michael Anderle
A part of
The Kurtherian Gambit Universe
Written and Created
by Michael Anderle
DEDICATION
To Ugulay, Verona and Brendan Sloan
-Justin
To Kim
-P.T.
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live the Life We Are
Called.
- Michael
JUSTICE EARNED
Team Includes
JIT Beta Readers - From all of us, our deepest gratitude!
Kelly O’Donnell
Paul Westman
Kim Boyer
John Ashmore
Edward M Rosenfeld
Tim Bischoff
Micky Cocker
If we missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
Lynne Stiegler
JUSTICE EARNED (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Justin Sloan, PT Hylton, and Michael T. Anderle
Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, April 2018
The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015 - 2018 by Michael T. Anderle.
PROLOGUE
Vurugu System, Lolack's Ship
Tenowk worked the connection, collaborating with Aranaught in his mind to reach out and catch a glimpse of what they might be up against. He connected the last wire, closed his eyes, and felt the surge of heat. Waves of energy pulsated through him, and he was mentally taken there—large ships, incoming. Unthinkable ships, like blown glass distorted by a storm, but crafted of alien metals. He was in the largest.
This enemy—this figure he couldn’t clearly see or name—stood at the helm of this massive destroyer, plugging in and speaking as he did so.
"We have waited long for Lolack to rear his head," the figure said, moving more cables and wires. For him this was an art form; a ritual he clearly had deep respect for. "No more wasting time conquering other star systems—not now that we’ve found you again, old friend."
A moment passed as the figure glanced around—aware of a presence that should not be there, perhaps. As if a fog around him had dissipated, he became more visible: a shadowy form connected to his ship with thick cables. A helmet hid his features, and no face was visible under it—only darkness.
And then it was over, the figure returning to his ritual.
"It won’t be long now," he said, sliding his hands into two conduits on the bridge of his ship. He turned, and his glowing green eyes stared through Tenowk as he traveled through space and time.
He stopped at the edge of a planet on fire. The metal of nearby ships pulled back from the flames as if alive, but he strode past all this. He approached the crest of a hill, below which small domes were cracked, destroyed, craters around them from the blast damage.
He held up a hand and twisted it, and everything moved backwards. The domes were in good shape, the fire and craters and scorched earth gone.
Even he was gone, replaced instead by a young Norrul—a male clad only in a loincloth, his skin a thick carapace that almost appeared metal.
He was running toward two figures who were trying to reach him. As the image started to fade, Tenowk could just barely make out the forms of two females. Presumably a wife and daughter?
The explosion hit before they could reach each other, and with a jolt they were pulled out of the vision—and were now back in the figure’s ship.
He almost collapsed, this figure, but was held up by the wires and cables that connected his body to the ship.
"Every…time…" he muttered. "It’s never…enough." He regained his composure, standing tall. "Not yet. Not until I’ve had my day."
"And when we get there… What then, sir?" an almost normal but slightly computerized voice asked.
"Kill them all," the figure replied. "All but this outsider, this ‘Prime Enforcer.’ She will join us. She will fight for the greater good. For true justice."
CHAPTER ONE
Swarthian Extended Detention Environment (SEDE)
Gara Grayhewn stepped out of her front door at the same time she did every morning. She stood on her porch for a moment observing the house-like structures around her, many of whose residents also stood outside. Most were Skulla or Pallicons, though some had been genetically modified so drastically that it was difficult to identify their races.
A casual observer might think this was a normal neighborhood instead of a cellblock in the star system’s most secure prison.
Gara had been incarcerated on SEDE for nearly thirty years, and sometimes she forgot it was a prison too—but those moments didn’t last long. And they hadn’t come at all since her son Kalan had been brought back a little over a month before.
Since then her every waking thought had been dedicated to one thing: getting Kalan out of SEDE…again.
These last weeks had been both a gift and a curse. She’d relished this time spent with the son she’d thought she’d never see again. She’d marveled at his tales of adventures on far-off planets (playing especially close attention whenever he mentioned that cute human, Bob). At the same time, she’d wanted nothing more than to help him escape as quickly as possible. He didn’t belong here. She’d rather see him free than be with him in prison.
So far Kalan and his Shimmer friend Wearl had made thirteen attempts to escape, but all had been unsuccessful.
Today they’d make their fourteenth.
Across the walkway, a guy was glaring at her. He was a Skulla—a heavily modded one. He’d been a product of the experiments of the being who h
ad called himself “the Bandian.” This false Bandian had ruled the system for a time, until Kalan and his new friends had broken the rightful leader out of SEDE and defeated him.
The Skulla’s name was Zoras. He’d given Gara some trouble over the years, but this morning would be different. He nodded slightly, and she saw the hint of a smile in his eyes. He was ready.
Gara lifted a small handheld mirror, angling it so that the reflected light shot toward the starboard end of the cellblock. That was the signal.
As soon as her mirror flashed, everyone sprang into action.
Zoras was the first to move. He barreled down the steps and charged along the walkway, heading to portside. He looked ridiculous. His genetic modifications had made him absurdly muscular, almost as wide as he was tall. Watching him run was so mesmerizing and strange that for a moment Gara forgot to begin her part of the plan.
She recovered quickly from the odd sight, though, and took off down the walkway in the opposite direction.
Gara didn’t see Zoras reach his target, but she heard the impact when he slammed his massive body against one of the guard towers. Then she heard a series of smaller impacts—Zoras’ Skulla friends hitting the guard tower.
Trying to ignore thoughts of what was happening behind her, Gara fixed her eyes on her own target: another guard tower.
The guard towers in SEDE were strange circular buildings that stood twenty-feet tall, giving the guards a bird’s eye view of the walkways throughout the cellblocks. How the Shimmer guards got up into those towers was a mystery to Gara. There were no stairs or ladders, only a ledge no more than an inch wide that spiraled up the buildings’ sides.
When she’d asked Wearl how the guards got up there, the Shimmer had simply answered, "We walk." Which hadn’t been super-helpful.
The other problem with the guard towers was that it was impossible to tell if they were occupied. For all Gara knew they were attacking empty towers right now, which would sort of lessen the effect they were going for.
As she neared her objective, she was relieved to see Pallicons gathering at the bottom. She hadn’t been sure they would come through on this, so seeing them eased her mind. It hadn’t been difficult to convince Zoras and his Skulla to participate in this plan, since they liked to cause trouble. Anything they could do to throw a wrench in the normal workings of the ship…they were game. The Pallicons were a bit more practical. She’d needed to negotiate with them.
After going back and forth for nearly a week, she’d finally made them an offer they hadn’t outright refused: the pistol she kept hidden in exchange for their help. They’d scratched their chins thoughtfully, but hadn’t committed one way or another.
Judging by the fact that they were gathered at the bottom of the tower, they were accepting.
The Pallicons shifted, changing their normally lanky forms into a series of angled ridges almost like steps, then climbing onto each other’s shoulders.
They were forming a staircase for her with their bodies.
Gara reached them just as they finished and she didn’t break her stride. She raced up the living staircase, hoping her pounding feet weren’t causing them too much pain. Grayhewns weren’t the lightest creatures.
When she reached the top of the stairs, her heart sank. It wasn’t quite tall enough.
She gritted her teeth. Zoras, the other Skulla, and the Pallicons had all put themselves on the line for this. More importantly, Kalan was counting on her.
When her foot reached the top step, she pushed off hard and leaped into the air, stretching her arm as far upward as possible. Her fingers touched the edge of the platform.
She grasped it, praying her grip would hold. Thankfully, it did.
Hanging there by one hand, she looked toward the starboard side of the cellblock and a smile appeared on her face.
The gate opened at the end of the block. Though she couldn’t see them, she knew Shimmer reinforcements were arriving to deal with the sudden attacks on their guard towers.
Excellent.
As she pulled herself up Gara took one last look toward the gate, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kalan. If all went well, this would be her last chance to see him—hopefully ever. She’d never leave this prison, and if there was any fairness in the universe, he would never return.
She didn’t spot him; all she saw were the deep shadows where he must be hiding.
She turned her attention back to her situation.
She climbed to her feet, observing the cellblock that had been her home for so long from this high angle for the first time. Then she turned to the apparently empty platform and clenched her fists.
She’d never hit a Shimmer in all her years on SEDE, but that was about to change.
"All right, which of you invisible bastards wants a piece of me first?"
She braced herself for the fight she knew was about to come, a smile on her face and hope for her son blazing in her heart.
***
"Now?" Kalan asked in a whisper.
"Not yet. Keep your pants on." Wearl paused. "Well, not literally."
They crouched in the shadows, Wearl watching as the Shimmer guards rushed past. Kalan tried to be patient. It would take a few moments after the last guard was through for the mechanical gate to shut, Wearl had observed. The entrance was watched by two guards on the other side of the gate, of course, but with the chaos in the cellblock, Kalan and Wearl were hoping to slip through and take them out.
Since the alarms were already blaring, there was no reason to fear the guards sounding them. Kalan and Wearl just had to take them out before they passed along the message that two prisoners were on the loose.
It still amazed Kalan how much of the prison’s security was dependent on the fact that the guards were invisible. Even though they knew Wearl was a prisoner, she would still be able to exploit the weaknesses inherent in the system.
Wearl and Kalan had proven that again and again. In thirteen escape attempts, they’d managed to make it out of the cellblock ten times.
Unfortunately for them SEDE was a massive spaceship, so getting out of the cellblock was only the beginning. Things got decidedly tougher after that.
There were only three possible ways off SEDE. One, gain control of the ship and fly it to a planet or space station, then escape. This method seemed impossible, since they’d need to retain control of the ship for days or weeks, depending on how close they were to an inhabited planet. They had tried this method once, and it hadn’t gone well.
Two, get a ride. This could be accomplished by sneaking aboard one of the supply ships that occasionally met up with SEDE, or by having an ally pick them up. Unfortunately there was no way to know when the supply ships would arrive, and no way to communicate with allies who might be in the system where SEDE was currently flying.
The third possible method was the one they were trying today.
"Now," Wearl whispered.
Kalan didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed for the gate just as it began to slide closed. As he reached it he turned sideways, angling his big body through the gap just before the gate slammed shut with a clang.
"Where?" he shouted as he ran.
Wearl immediately answered, "Five yards, ten o’clock."
Kalan drew his fist back as he sprinted, then let it fly, punching to his left at about his ten o’clock. He felt a satisfying crunch as his fist connected with an invisible face.
"Got him in one," Wearl shouted.
Kalan heard a struggle in the apparently empty corridor, so he waited. He’d worked with Wearl long enough to know she’d take care of business, and that she’d ask for help if she needed it.
After another moment, there was a loud crack and something hit the ground. Then Wearl’s voice said, "Okay, let’s go."
Kalan took one last look over his shoulder. Through that gate were the beings he’d grown up with. Some had been his friends. Some had been his enemies. But all of them had risked a beatdown or worse so he had a chance to e
scape.
It brought a lump to his throat.
Not that long ago, he would have refused their help. He would have thought letting them make a sacrifice for him meant he was weak, and he would have insisted on doing it alone.
Then he’d met Valerie. And Robin. And, stars help him, Bob. He’d learned a lot from these humans, but the most valuable thing he’d learned was the necessity of teamwork. Asking for help still didn’t come easily to him, but he’d begun to understand how much could be accomplished by a group—even a group of convicts like those back in the cellblock.
They’d given him his chance. Now he had to make the most of it.
He followed the sound of Wearl’s footsteps as she made her way down the corridor. After so many failed attempts he knew his way around the area outside the cellblock pretty well, and each corridor they entered brought up some painful memory. There was the spot where he’d been hit in the head with a baton while trying to make it to the flight deck. And there was where six Shimmers had dogpiled him while he was headed for the guards’ sleeping quarters.
Ah, memories.
Today Wearl was leading them down a series of lightly-traveled corridors. This was a less direct route to their destination, but it would help them avoid any guards rushing to the cellblock to quell the prisoner uprising.
"Almost there," Wearl called to him. "We just need to—"
Her words cut off mid-sentence in a choking sound. Kalan didn’t need to see Shimmers to realize they’d been discovered.
"Three o’clock," Wearl ground out.
Kalan threw a hard jab to his direct right and hit a Shimmer in the face.
