Capture Death

by Michael Anderle

  And right now Lance felt like he was going to be the Federation’s biggest cheater.

  Due to the Leath outburst, it was looking like Lance was more and more becoming the hands-down favorite to be awarded the supreme political appointment in the Federation, not that it would happen anytime soon.

  There was a lot of work to still do—probably at least a couple years’ worth—and then everyone had to take it back to their governments and ratify the agreements.

  He had time.

  He sighed and rubbed his face. “Meredith,” he called, “please record this message to send to TOM or ADAM.”

  “I understand, General Reynolds,” she replied.

  It took Lance fifteen minutes to provide an update on the results to date for the Federation, and how he saw it working. He left out some of the details he knew would set her off.

  No need to light that fire yet.

  He finished by telling her he loved her and was waiting for her to come back home, and hit the end button before he said something too sappy. She didn’t need that from him right now…or maybe he didn’t want to do that right now.

  Save the big guns for a later video, he thought, rising. It was time to go have dinner with Patricia.

  Space Station NN-J453, Noel-ni Protectorate

  The space station was clean. It was a nice mix of some type of silver metal and organics. The organics kept the air clean, made it smell good, and broke up the hard edges. Baba Yaga found two stores which had used stone for their facing.

  A hundred feet ahead of her a retinue of aliens was heading in her direction. They were tan or sand in color, their eyes a pretty blue, and they were approximately human-shaped.

  There were two guards gripping weapons of some sort, and two who had animals that were a cross between a centipede and a dog on leashes. Each had one.

  A centadog? A dogapede?

  She slowed down, eyes narrowing, when the centadogs (she hated the idea of saying a dog peed) turned a hundred and eighty degrees, their short fur bristling. The guards turned also and pulled their weapons, a cross between a short sword and a small shield over their hands.

  She murmured, “Shinigami?”

  “Yes, Baba Yaga?”

  “Is there a rule against firing weapons on the station?”

  “Other than common sense?” the EI replied, “yes.”

  She stifled a curse, but was happy with the answer. She hadn’t planned on shooting anyone, and it would be nice not to get shot.

  She got a chance to look past the aliens and saw who they were facing off against.

  Skaines.

  —

  Princess Fain of the Expanse turned to look where her guards were focused, and her face narrowed.

  “Do not start a fight here,” she said, speaking softly to her protectors. “The Noel-ni are just begging for an excuse to attack our people.”

  “What do we do if they start it?” Jeth asked her.

  What would she do? It was a good question. She was supposed to meet an arms merchant here. As the third daughter of the king she was important, but not important enough that her family would try to get her back during these troubled times.

  She considered pulling her pistol, but that was a definite no-go.

  The Skaine captain smiled as he and his group walked up to her. “Well, look who is strolling about!” He nodding as he spoke to her. “Princess Fain, how shocking!”

  “Captain.” She eyed his patch. “Krollet.”

  “Correct.” He stepped a little closer. “I believe we have business to attend to.” Her jaw dropped. “What? You are surprised your family would deal with us?” He laughed. “War makes for strange bedfellows. We are the lubrication which makes the impossible work amongst peoples,” he snapped at her, causing her to step back quickly. He smirked.

  “You are a slaver!” she hissed. “Don’t lie ! I can still see the symbols on your sleeve.”

  “Not so,” he said lifting his nose into the air. “We are a legitimate enterprise which has engaged to deliver three ships of weapons to the Expanse in exchange for…” he looked her up and down, “items of value.”

  “I have your money,” she hissed. “I am surprised you are working this deal out in the open. Don’t you usually work in dark and fetid bars where the insects thrive?”

  He shrugged. “Keep it up, Princess.” He put his hands into his robe’s sleeves. “It will make this deal all the sweeter. I can do this deal right out in the open because it is completely legal.” It took him a moment to add, “Like all our deals.”

  She doubted that, and she made up her mind—there had to be another way to get the necessary weapons. “I do not have to deal with you,” she told him.

  On her left, her guard was pulling the leash to get his charge to stay focused on the Skaines.

  “On the contrary, Princess.” He pulled out a tablet. “We have already delivered the material, so you have to deliver the payment to us.”

  She stepped forward to take the tablet, reviewing the notes before turning back to her people. She spun in place, face furious. “This can’t be!”

  “Oh, it very ‘can be,’” Captain Krollet replied. “It seems we had a fourth and fifth container of weapons for which we were also willing to negotiate. The challenge was that you had already left with everything the King could release.” He shook his head in sympathy. “He really needed those extra weapons, as they would completely turn the war around for him, and he wouldn’t have to negotiate with the Noel-ni at all if he got them. A complete win-win. The advanced weapons would save thousands, if not tens of thousands, of lives. The problem… Well, it was a problem,” he smiled at her, “but like everything else, problems can be solved if you just work on the details. You see, they told us that the only thing of any value you have with you…”

  She looked at him, eyes narrowing as he finished,

  “Is you.”

  A hundred feet behind the group, unnoticed, a pair of red eyes flashed. A loud hiss from her startled two other patrons who were walking by the ink-black alien who had stood, her hands clenching and unclenching.

  Captain Krollet smiled in satisfaction as the princess’ eyes opened in realization and shock. If only he had enough savings to buy her contract himself, he would keep her for a few years before reselling her on the secondary market.

  Unfortunately, she was too pricey for even his bank account.

  Here on the Noel-ni base he had a legitimate contract, already confirmed with the station commander, for both the total sum to be paid and the amount for those who were in the princess’ retinue.

  The value of the guards and the Yuullon pets barely made a dent in the extra armor and weapons system their people had delivered. She, however, would make up the difference.

  The Yuullons both twisted away from his party and forced their guards to turn around.

  Krollet’s eyes narrowed as the princess also turned and then took a step backward toward his group, which surprised him.

  The princess stopped and slowly moved to the left and the other guards in her party to the right as the center of their party opened up to allow him and his people to see a figure walking toward them from down the passageway.

  Captain Krollet’s eyes opened, his jaw dropped, and he swallowed, mouth dry. Options ran through his brain frantically. There was Ranger Two, may the deities burn her soul in flames, but then there was Ranger Two’s boss, then the boss’s boss.

  Here was the Empress’ Witch. Her enforcer, her killer whose blazing red eyes were staring at him as if they could shoot laser beams and melt him right where he stood. He could argue all day long that his contract was legal, but it wouldn’t matter if he was dead.

  And the Witch of the Empire wouldn’t care if the Noel-ni were upset or not.

  The captain stepped forward hurriedly. “Give me that!” he hissed to the princess, yanking back the tablet he had just offered her a moment before, and stared at it. He flicked two screens to the left and modified the
payment due, then pressed his thumb against it and reached down to grab Princess Fain’s hand.

  Startling the princess, he pressed her hand on the tablet, his eyes flicking toward the white-haired woman and, feeling a buzz, he dropped her hand. He lifted the tablet, turning the front toward the Witch. “PAID!” he yelled.

  He waiting for the killing blow, but nothing happened.

  When he lowered the tablet, the one called Baba Yaga was standing five steps in front of him, her fingers a small distance apart. “This close, Skaine slaver,” she told him. She turned to the princess and pointed to the tablet. “The video will prove your payment.” Turning back to him, she hissed, “Baba Yaga is watching.”

  Then she stepped backward and disappeared.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds

  Eric and Gabrielle walked up to John, who was throwing a bag to a person who would walk it up the ramp into the G’laxix Sphaea.

  “We got Kael-ven?” Eric asked as he set his bag down on the ground.

  “Yes.” John turned and held out his hand to shake Eric’s, then John bent down to hug Gabrielle. He straightened. “We don’t have any other clue, but if she shows up here she will be okay. Who knows, maybe she will feel us and sneak up on us and say ‘boo.’”

  Gabrielle eyed the big man. “That has to be the worst strategy ever,” she told him. “Even Napolean wouldn’t have used that strategy. Prick that he was.”

  He blew out a breath before looking back to her, ignoring her Napolean comment. You could never tell if she really new people and if he tried to figure it out, she would give him shit about age. “We have vacation coming to us, Gabrielle. If we choose to fly to random planets, who is going to tell us not to?”

  He eyed her, his face as hard as granite.

  She chose not to pick a fight with her friend. “Pick me up some trinkets, okay?”

  Eric turned to her, asking one more time, “Why don’t you come with us?”

  Her hair flung about as she shook her head and said, pointing a finger down, “Because I think she will come back here before we can find her out there.” She pointed to space. “And when she gets back, she will need friends to help her.” She looked at the space-shield which would allow their ship to exit the Meredith Reynolds. “We have no idea what she has gotten into.”

  “No, that’s not true,” John corrected. “She has killed at least one Kurtherian, saved one low level criminal. Rid Devon of a bunch of political assholes, and shipped at least twice as many off planet.”

  He was sporting a shit-eating grin.

  “That’s only one of the Seven, guys,” she answered. “At this rate she will need to come back for supplies.”

  John put a thumb into his belt. “Gab, she’s rich. She doesn’t need to come here for supplies. Pretty damned sure she can find supplies all over space.”

  “Or steal them,” Eric put in as she turned to look at him, her face annoyed. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You know she will do whatever is necessary for the mission. If she needs to steal supplies, she will.”

  “If it helps,” John added to help out Eric. “she would make sure the people were paid somehow.”

  Gabrielle sighed, but nodded her agreement. “I’d go, but I have a feeling she will be here first.”

  John, his voice barely above the sounds in the big ship’s bay replied, “I’ve got to try.” He reached over and hugged her one more time. “Stay out of trouble.” He let go and walked to the ramp of the ship, heading into it as Eric took one last moment to hold his wife.

  She looked up at him and poked him in the chest. “You stay safe, or I’ll come kick your ass.” She smiled and added, “Or at least I’ll try.”

  Eric blew her a kiss. “You will be back in ass-kicking shape in no time,” he told her. “Fighting was just never your thing, so don’t get down on yourself, baby.”

  “I think I will spar with Barnabas,” she told him, then stood on tiptoe to kiss him once more.

  When they finished, she noticed that Eric was thinking. “Barnabas?” Eric asked, confused. “How is that a good idea?”

  She tapped her head. “I’ll have him read my mind. When I can beat a mind-reader I’ll be ready to kick your ass again, Mr. Escobar!” She started walking away from Eric, who was admiring her from the rear. “A few decades watching kids grow up was nice,” she called out, not looking back. “But I’m ready to take up that sword again!”

  Eric smiled and turned toward the ship. Like John, he had been restless sitting in this huge space station while his friend was out there trying to find and kill Kurtherians.

  Then Kael-ven came by and said he had a few dozen years of vacation and a spaceship he could borrow if the guys wanted to do a shakedown.

  It was time to go looking.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Planet Devon, Lerr’ek’s Office

  There was a rap on the door. Lerr’ek, Barnabas and Tabitha turned when Nock, stuck in his orange dinosaur-looking head and turned toward his boss. “Problem, Slate area, Forzen and Thlock.”

  Lerr’ek nodded. “Thank you,” he said as Nock closed the door. “Excuse me,” he told his visitors as he pulled up a screen.

  Barnabas and Tabitha just waited as his eyes took in the information. “We have two gangs fighting a turf war. The Forzen took advantage of a situation with the Thlock, and grabbed family hostages. The Thlock retaliated by killing two Forzen member siblings who were at an entertainment venue, and now people are hunkering down.”

  “What happened to the original hostages?” Barnabas asked.

  “Murdered in response,” Lerr’ek replied. “I doubt this is related to the upheaval Baba Yaga created, but the police can’t go into the area at the moment.”

  “They aren’t trusted?” Tabitha asked.

  Lerr’ek put his tablet down to look up to the Ranger. “Oh, they are trusted for all sorts of minor problems, and they can track down the guilty, but they aren’t a militia.”

  Pointing a finger to the tablet, he continued, “Those two gangs have been killing each other for years, so the police will wait until emotions have calmed before they start to slowly go help them. It’s all underground, so everyone is scared down there and not willing to help.” He tilted his head left, then right. “It’s about survival at the moment for the civilians. The police might help, but they aren’t there all the time. Those gangs have been allowed to grow too large.”

  “The leaders?” Barnabas asked.

  “Three on each side,” Lerr’ek answered. “Usually these gangs have a top person who runs by force of will and good strategy, then an enforcer who runs the crews and an operations adjunct who deals with membership.”

  Barnabas rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand. “How is the justice system here?”

  “Good.”

  “Would they be back on the street this week if they were rounded up?” Barnabas wondered.

  “Oh, the core two or three would be off the streets for a few months at least, but the gangs would already be delivering their revenge for any efforts against them. Well, for those who they could get hold of.”

  “Have they ever attacked police families?” Tabitha asked.

  This time Lerr’ek looked at them, thinking it through before he turned his head back to the screen. “I think only once, that I know of. The police would have come out in force, but no one knew who did it so they didn’t have a focus. “However,” he looked to both of them. “it was never tried again. The rumor is that the one responsible was killed by his own gang for doing that.”

  “There are,” Barnabas agreed, “some things you shouldn’t do.”

  “The Mistress hasn’t given me any orders what to do about this yet.” Lerr’ek frowned. “Should I be asking Stephen for orders?”

  “Well, perhaps later. Certainly the next time you speak with Baba Yaga,” Barnabas told him, then put his hands on the chair arms and pushed up. “However, we will take over this problem and deal with it ourselves.”

  T
abitha looked to Barnabas in surprise, but kept her mouth shut. They got the directions to where they needed to go and bid Lerr’ek goodbye.

  Outside they picked up Peter, who was playing a version of slaps with Nock.

  Peter had a slash down his left hand. “Fucker’s fast,” was all he said as Tabitha watched it continue healing. The three of them walked out of Lerr’ek’s area.

  Planet Devon, QBS Ranger One Shuttle

  Barnabas took the two of them back to the ship, but when they entered he put out an arm. “Hold on.” He turned to watch the hatch close, then listened for the ka-chunk of it locking. “All right,” he said, looking them both in the eyes, “we have a chance to help a little here. However,” he turned to Tabitha, “this is without your badge. It doesn’t mean anything here anyway.” He turned to Peter. “And without any Jean Dukes you have on you.”

  Peter shrugged. “I didn’t carry my gear outside. It’s still here in the armory.”

  Barnabas raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have any guns?”

  “Well, of course,” Peter looked affronted. “I’m an Empress’ Bitch. I have weapons, just not something that powerful.”

  “Well, if you want to go with me, leave them here.”

  “You want me to leave my badge?” Tabitha asked, annoyed. “I’ve worked hard to earn this damned badge.”

  “And you have earned it,” Barnabas agreed, “but we are going to try to formulate a peaceful solution with the leaders.”

  “With no weapons?” she asked.

  “Well, nothing they can find if they frisk us,” Barnabas answered.

  “Oh.” Tabitha shrugged. “Ok. I’ve got a big weapon anyway.”

  “What?” Barnabas asked, palm out, giving her the “pass it over” hand gesture.

  She jerked a thumb toward Peter. “Him. I just throw him at the people and we have eight feet of pissed-off Pricolici.”

  “Nice to know I’m valued,” Peter grumped.

  Barnabas crossed his arms over his chest, asking, “You going to be able to kick ass without your toys?”