John holstered his pistol and walked toward the two, who were lying in wait, ready to ambush him as he turned a corner.
The first swung his ax too fast, and his partner’s attempt to stab John at the same time was also a failure—not that John cared. He freely allowed both attacks to come at him.
Record the trauma from both attacks, and any damage they cause to the suit.
Understood, his EI responded.
The Yollins stared at the alien in front of them in disbelief when both attacks failed. Hitting him was similar to trying to cut a rock wall, and resulted in about the same amount of damage.
The one with the ax recovered first and pulled his weapon back for a second try.
“Oh no you don’t, motherfucker,” John growled. “It’s my turn.” His punch caved in the Yollin’s chest, crushing his exoskeleton and sending a piece into his heart. The second never saw the backhand that caved in his face, cracking one of his mandibles and killing him instantly.
Both bodies dropped to the floor.
Pehl-eck’s reporting on the latest update from the building was interrupted by more glass breaking. This time the videographer barely recorded the body flying from the fourth-floor window. The human looked out the window and down before pulling back into the building.
Pehl-eck’s comment, which later became the video news snippet shared in five solar systems, was, “I guess if you throw your enemy from the fourth floor of a building, you don’t need to waste ammunition on a confirmation shot to the head.”
“Well,” John commented as he pulled his head back in the building, “that was effective.”
Any more combatants on this level? John subvocalized.
No.
“Ok, that makes twelve down. Seven more assholes behind Floor Number Five.”
Pehl-eck provided more color commentary after she had made the decision to move closer to the building. The videographer jerked his camera to the side, and she turned around. “It looks like,” she told those watching her feed, “those inside have a few reinforcements coming in.” Moments later an armored Yollin walked casually into the building.
Like the human had.
Pehl-eck turned back to the camera. “Including armored support.”
John.
John pulled his clips and replaced them. They were still two-thirds full, but no reason not to be prepared.
We have five additional combatants coming up from below, one in Yollin armor.
“Oh?” John looked at the feed from the cameras he had been leaving behind him. “Huh. Old armor, maybe two generations older than the stuff Kiel had. Decent, but the mobility on that shit must suck.”
John jumped down the stairs to get to the floor below. No time like the present to test out Jean’s group’s new armor.
God, he wished he had a metal bat right now.
Drk-vaen reveled in the power he felt in the armor he had taken from his parents’ home. It was invigorating. There was nothing that could stop him; certainly not this human. He towered over his four friends, who had watched with joy as the lower-caste Yollins had been shot for daring to think they could step up. Their revolution was dying in front of them.
Then the human had arrived. When he shot the counter-revolutionary in the head, Drk-vaen and his friends had howled in anger.
It wasn’t fair!
They all decided to head to the building and offer their support. Then Rhu’glik asked Drk-vaen if his parents still had the armor from when his dad was in the military.
Oh, yeah! It hadn’t taken Drk-vaen any time at all to run over to their compound. His family was gone, either to work or out of town on business, which allowed him easy access to the powered armor. It turned on and went through the activation sequences smoothly.
Then the five were on their way.
Drk-vaen walked past his comrades, taking the lead as he moved up the stairs. He flinched when he placed a metal foot down too hard on a stair and cracked the marble. He sure hoped his parents didn’t have to pay for that.
As he moved through the second floor he turned in the armor a little too sharply and hit a wall, halfway embedding himself before extracting himself and proceeding to the stairs that led to level three. His four friends cautiously followed. They had seen the two deaths out in the street, and their idea of a fun time was rapidly being challenged by the harsh reality of the dead.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” John asked no one in particular. He was viewing the video feed from the floors beneath and watched as the person in the armor ran into the wall.
“This is a kid,” he muttered. The cameras showed the four other Yollin youths slowly following their compatriot.
Drk-vaen turned the corner on the third floor and scanned the hallway. A sudden loud ping startled him and he jerked around.
The human was waiting for him.
He spoke to Drk-vaen through speakers from his helmet. “You know, you have two options here. Well, three, but I don’t really expect you to turn around.”
Drk-vaen sincerely wished that was an option at the moment. The human had obviously seen his armored suit, and wasn’t running in fear. That was what he would have done if he were in the same place as the human.
“Either you can die, or you are going to suffer severe pain. You are sticking your nose in the Empress’ business. Your actions won’t go without a lesson, trust me.”
“The Empress is false!” Drk-vaen blustered, his bravado lost on the human since the Yollin hadn’t turned on his suit’s speakers.
Dammit.
Once the speakers were on, he tried again. “The Empress is false!” he croaked.
“No,” the human told him, “the Empress is real enough. The falsehoods are the religious beliefs about superiority and your caste system.” The alien moved to Drk-vaen’s left. “I’m here to bring the Queen’s Justice. Well, shit. I guess I mean the Empress’ Justice. Old names die hard.”
“I’ll not stand here and accept you berating our world’s system of—” Drk-vaen ranted.
The alien interrupted, “Oh, you are right.” He ran forward and grabbed Drk-vaen, who wasn’t able to track the fast alien under his armored arms. “You won’t be standing here,” John said as he used his strength and the extra the armor provided to heave the Yollin toward the windows.
This time Pehl-eck wasn’t talking, just watching the building when the armored Yollin shattered two windows exiting from the third floor. The crunch as the armored figure landed on the street reverberated off the buildings, and sand and dust billowed up from the landing spot.
This time the human walked to the now-open window and stopped a moment, then hopped to the street below.
From a three-story window.
She wasn’t sure, but she would have sworn the human floated the last few feet to the ground.
She would have to go back and look at the video.
John walked over to the young idiot who was writhing, probably trying to figure out how to get all his limbs working inside the suit.
“Lesson number one…” John began. “You have to practice in suits of armor. It isn’t like putting on a new pair of pants and a shirt. You knew enough to walk around, but you didn’t have a damned clue how to fight in this stuff.”
Drk-vaen’s compatriots rushed out of the building and skidded to a stop when they realized the alien was talking to their friend.
“Second lesson,” John continued, aware of the Yollin’s friends behind him. “Never let your friends tell you what to do. In this case they might literally get you killed. The armor doesn’t make you impervious to stupidity.”
John leaned over as Drk-vaen turned his helmet in his direction. “Third and final lesson.” John grabbed a small unit at the junction of Drk-vaen’s neck and shoulder and ripped it off. Metal screeched in anguish and sparks flew.
John stood up and tossed the small metal box onto Drk-vaen’s chest. “These old units have a design flaw, so they are easy to overcome. Always know the limit
ations of your armor.” As he turned and walked back into the building, Drk-vaen’s friends all gave him a wide berth.
Drk-vaen just laid there, horrified as all his systems locked up and his suit powered down.
Twenty years later on another planet, Drk-vaen would use that bit of wisdom to overcome a Kurtherian adversary for his people, and ultimately for the Etheric Empress.
Unfortunately for his future adversary, he couldn’t provide a second chance in the heat of battle.
Executive Pod, Outside Meredith Reynolds
The EI told the Ixtalis, “You have multiple electronic devices stored about your bodies. There is a lock box in the front of the Pod, which you may take with you out of the Pod. Keep it with you at all times. There is a shield to confirm your valuables are inside.”
Ixtelina asked the question on Ixgalan’s mind. “Why?”
“These electronics are not known to the Etheric Empire, so they may not be used in our presence without a review of their capabilities. I’m sure you Ixtalis, with your core commercial interest in data acquisition, will understand our caution?”
Well, that blew it. These humans certainly knew more about her people than she did about them at this time.
“And if we do not wish to give them up?” Ixtelina inquired.
“That is certainly an option,” the EI responded. “We will return you to your ship and allow you to leave.”
“What about our offer to trade?” Ixtelina asked.
“Are we speaking about information or the H’Laxrick gems?”
Ixtelina pressed her teeth together. “I would say ‘something other,' but would you believe it?”
“I’m informed by the Empress that it wouldn’t matter. Those electronic devices are not coming onto the Meredith Reynolds outside the holding box without an explanation about what they do and how to confirm they are not working. She is responsible for too many people to throw the dice trusting a mercenary group.”
“We are not mercenaries!” Ixgalan shot back. “We don’t get involved in wars.”
“Excuse my specialist’s outburst,” Ixtelina requested. They were back to speaking in Yollin. “But he is correct. Why do you call us mercenaries?”
The EI responded, “To the highest bidder—and sometimes multiple bidders—goes the information. Whether the information will be used for good or ill is not relevant to the Ixtalis.”
Ixtelina wanted to spit. Of all the alien species the Ixtali worked with, the ones with morals were the most difficult. They often judged the Ixtalis and their neutrality.
A new voice came through the speaker system, interrupting her thoughts. “Do not believe that we do not understand the dance on the edge of the knife when someone is outgunned, outmanned, and often outmaneuvered. Ixtalis are working to keep themselves relevant and protected in the only way they know how. but if you think I give a shit you are vastly mistaken. I will judge Ixtalis by their actions, not the why’s behind them.”
“Hmm.” Ixgalan paused a moment. “That was a new voice.”
Ixtelina parsed the comment. “Who is this?”
“This is the EI,” said the previous voice.
“Ok, who just spoke?”
“That...was the Empress.”
10
Ixtelina was bothered as she and Ixgalan left the transfer Pod. A Customs Agent documented their arrival and which ship they belonged to, provided them papers containing the information, and, interestingly enough, took their pictures.
“Aren’t those two-dimensional images rather useless?” Ixtelina asked. The images had been printed in the small book she had been provided and asked to keep.
The human waited for the translation before responding, “We are used to looking at them, but there is more information encoded in your records which allow positive identification. While we do not expect to need it, should something happen we will have the data. The book—we call it a ‘passport’—is your promise to be honest with us.
Ixtelina looked down at the passport she had been handed. “How is this a promise?”
The human smiled. “We promise that if you don’t have it, we will make it very unpleasant for you.”
Ixtelina looked back down at her document. “What if it gets stolen?”
The human made a facial gesture that Ixtelina hadn’t categorized yet. “Oh, we promise to space the person who took it.”
Ixtelina stared at the man for a moment before his words clicked. “Wait, do you mean you’ll throw the thief out into space?”
“Why, yes! How else would we encourage individuals not to steal someone’s passport?”
There went one of their preferred methods of walking around space stations. Most advanced societies understood mistakes and provided second chances.
Yes, this operation would be rated highly enough to include both a difficulty bonus and a danger bonus.
She put the passport into her robe and zipped up the pocket. “Our instruments.” She nodded to Ixgalan, who lifted the box they had retrieved from the Pod. “How do we get them reviewed?”
“Go by Station Location ARD001. They will ask you to explain their purpose and how to lock them down. Be aware that if your stated purpose is ever determined to be false, you—and perhaps your organization—will be forever banned from the Etheric Empire. Your superiors will be able to argue the charge, of course, but the person who falsely explained the purpose will not be allowed back into our space.”
Ixtelina smiled, but the reaction of the human let her know he didn’t understand. He nodded to her as she went through the last short hallway to the inside of the humans’ Outer Docks.
She stood just inside the hatch and took in the massive room, the almost eye-searing amount of light, and the smells that were foreign to her.
She was on the bottom floor of a large shopping and food area.
It went up five levels. The floor she was standing on had seating areas interspersed with large plant and liquid arrangements. Each higher level had its own walkways, and seating by the edge that allowed those above to look down on the lower levels and final floor at the bottom.
Almost like this was a large amphitheater. A place to shop, eat, and see and be seen by whoever and whatever happened to be visiting the station.
At the far end was a two-story-tall sign—a picture of weapons, humans, and something else she didn’t recognize, which was ferocious and furry. She pulled out the tablet the human had provided and clicked the instructions to translate the language to one she understood.
The name translated to “All Guns Blazing.”
It was a bar…a place to drink and eat. The hallway indicated by the sign had traffic going in and out of it.
Quite a bit of the traffic was human, some Yollin, and there were others as well. She recognized an Akkafuln and several other species. It was hard to miss those very tall, very skinny, hairless aliens.
Ixtelina thought of them as all legs and no personality.
Ixgalan came up beside her. “You decided not to have the items reviewed?”
Ixtelina made a sound of distaste. “The humans are a little too straightforward for me to answer their questions without advice from our leaders.” She looked at Ixgalan, who was scanning the large cavern with its noises and lights shining everywhere.
After a moment he said, “This place is huge.” Then he looked at the very top of the cavern.
Ixtelina followed his eyes as he wondered, “How do they power a little sun in here?”
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Space Traffic Control, Special Unit
Marilyn reviewed the full body scans from both the Executive Pod and the Customs area.
There was a potential problem.
She talked to Meredith, then Reynolds before contacting the General.
“Reynolds here.” His gruff voice was consistent, at least.
“Marilyn from SU. We have...anomalies…on the two Ixtalis, and I’ve reviewed them with both Meredith and Reynolds. Both aliens have unique devices plante
d near what looks to be their brain stems.”
“One moment,” he replied. Marilyn waited, wondering if the General would arrive at the same conclusion she had.
He came back on almost a minute later. “Confirmed by TOM. Most likely those are suicide devices. TOM and ADAM are now talking with Bethany Anne, but both believe the devices have been in place for a long time. These agents may not even know about them.”
“Well, that just sucks,” Marilyn murmured.
“Agreed,” the General answered. Marilyn’s face went red; she hadn’t expected the General to hear her observation. Then she heard some murmuring from his side of the line. “Marilyn, Dan Bosse is heading your way. Sit tight. He is going to take the lead on this case.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Reynolds out.”
Her line went dead.
Oh hell, she thought. Now the Empress’ inner circle was getting involved.
Planet Yoll, R’Chkoklet
John passed the bodies from earlier and went back up the stairs after confirming with the tactical EI that no enemy combatants had created new ambush locations.
He arrived on the fifth floor after a large number of steps and turns and paused for a moment to look around, then shrugged.
There was only one way to go from here, and it was down the hallway to a pair of very fancy doors. Fine. If the hallway went to the executives’ offices, then to the executives’ offices he would go. Nothing these Yollins had was giving him or the new armor a serious workout.
That was when the alarms sounded and a rocket burst through the doors, heading in his direction.
One more time window glass was shattered, but this time it was half the windows on the top floor. Fire exploded out of several sections, their pieces cascading down to shatter on the ground below.
Somewhere a female Yollin screamed in pain.
Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set Three: Books 15-21, Never Submit, Never Surrender, Forever Defend, Might Makes Right, Ahead Full, Capture Death, Life Goes On (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets Book 3) Page 31
