The face on the screen looked at everyone on her bridge, then she looked at the woman seated in the captain’s chair and smiled.
“Hello, Mother.”
There was a second where no one even breathed as the AI continued, “This is the Leviathan-class Superdreadnought ArchAngel II. I have been commanded to protect the Etheric Empire by Empress Bethany Anne. Lockdown Protocols on this ship have not yet been implemented. Does the Empress command I enact lockdown protocols?”
“No, I do not,” Bethany Anne replied.
“Lockdown protocols are not activated. Leviathan-class Superdreadnought ArchAngel II is now fully operational, and will fight all who attack the Etheric Empire until victorious…or dead.”
Bethany Anne smiled, her eyes red in memory of those whose names graced the stone outside the bridge. “Good. It’s time you kick some more ass, ArchAngel.”
FINIS
Author Notes
Written March 29th and 30th, 2017
Wow!
Thank you - thank you - thank you for reading these notes. By reading this stuff, it pretty much means you have read well over a MILLION words of Kurtherian kick-ass badassery… AND probably a shit-ton of cursing. Probably way more colorful language than the recommended daily allowance suggested by just about anyone who has a problem with cursing.
Yes, I know I have a problem writing this type of language, and I completely blame my sense of humor. I snicker (don’t judge me!) when stupid curse words are strung together in humorous ways.
If they are strung together in even better ways, I’ll laugh out loud and then go back and re-read them another time…and then snicker again.
The first time I remember reading fuck in a book (at least, my decade’s old memory remembers this) was in the story Spellsinger by Alan Dean Foster when the wizard turtle Clothahump brings the sanitation engineer instead of a real engineer over to his world and stupidity ensues.
This was EXACTLY the type of story my 19-year-old mind would find amusing. Anyway, I’m laying down on the couch in my first apartment (a two bedroom split-roommate plan I shared with my older brother) when I run across this fuck the old wizard spouts out.
I died.
I mean, I was gasping for air I was laughing so hard! I remember going back one time, years later JUST to find that passage and read it again.
Sigh…good times.
I’ve been blessed to have many of you mention that even though you don’t like cursing, you either skip it (story makes up for it) or you find it funny and give me a pass. I guess Homer Simpson was right when he told Marge, “I made you laugh, I’m off the hook!”
I’ve also been humored many times when you admit you found yourself cursing more after you shot-gunned the stories for a few days. Or, funnier yet, your SPOUSES are catching you cursing more often.
Now THAT must be some good times!
Talking about good times, I now get to share a personal good time with you speaking (or writing as the case may be) as a happy dad!
This good time has to do with my youngest son, Joseph (Joey).
He and his brother live at home, and both will be heading to college or perhaps the military (Marines) in a few months.
So, Joey - who was 16 years old at the time - was talking a little smack last August (8 months ago). It was during the time I was having a lot of success with The Kurtherian Gambit that he makes a flippant statement, “I can do this writing thing, easy peasy.” (Or something similar).
(Ok, parents of teenagers, sing along with me now…)
“Anything Dad can do… I can do BETTER!”
Hahahahahaha…
Apparently, he took my “Oh yeah?” reply as a challenge. This was a bit of a surprise for me to learn months later when he fessed up as to how he got the writing bug.
I won’t belabor the story because I’ve mentioned it in other places, but he spent September, October, and November working on story ideas with me, writing, trashing whatever he wrote, and just about getting nowhere on his book…Write 3,000 words…Delete 2,500…
However, in December of 2016 over the Christmas Holidays, Joey released the first book (Book 00) of The Courier Chronicles series, and it shocked both of us to see him move up the ranks and break the top 3,000 ranking before he dropped down.
It was pretty damned fun to watch him have some success; I have to admit!
Now, it was a CHALLENGE to get that boy to finish the first book, Her Royal Runner. So, I told him I would provide some support for Book 00, but I wouldn’t talk about his stories in my author notes in the back of a Bethany Anne story until he could write and publish book 01 in his series… I wanted to make sure this wasn’t just a ‘I can do this too’ response. I wanted to see some real results that he cared to keep going and not leave those of us who had read book 00 hanging.
And it was a good thing I didn’t. While he started for a day or two, life and new girlfriend and school…and new girlfriend (did I mention that already?) was much more interesting to his 17 year old head.
Finally, something (or some one) encouraged him to get that next story going. In February, over a long weekend, he sat down and in the space of four days, he wrote something like 15,000 words to get to words complete on his second book, The Messengers Menagerie.
Sonofabitch, he did it!
I’m proud of all of my sons, and no matter what they choose to do in life, I want them to be happy doing it. There is a saying that if you want to learn about the author, check out their main character because an author will place a lot of themselves in the character. Well, I hope that my fans know a lot of Bethany Anne’s personality is NOT my personality or likes.
I’m not into woman’s shoes, that’s my wife (#TotalTruth).
However, in Joey’s book, the main character Sterling “Booker” Wells IS Joey. When you read these stories, you won’t have to know what my son is like, because he is telling the world what he is like with the mannerisms of his protagonist.
I vividly remember Joey acting out, working on writing a scene where Booker is looking at himself in a closet mirror. He is checking out the clothes he is wearing to go on a trip and Joey comments out loud, “how would Booker act, ‘if he was looking in the mirror and someone started opening the door.’”
Mind you - Joseph is grabbing his cheeks and acting this just two bar stools down from me as I’m working on editing a book myself.
Now, I’ve stopped editing and I’m staring at my son, who is playing out this scene just 48 inches away. That’s too damned close for sanity, trust me.
Sometimes, 17-year-olds shouldn’t be allowed to write. (He and his twin have a birthday in late August, so he is 17 now for those whipsawed by the comment about being 16 earlier.)
Well, Joey did write and write and write and due to the help of the Double D’s (who spent HOURS working with him (patience of saints here) and Jeff Brown’s help for another cover he produced his second book.
I’ve read both books, I’ve laughed my ass off at both books. As someone familiar with the author, I can tell you Joey IS this funny in real life and it can be a challenge to parent him. However, I will admit in front of ten’s of thousands of readers…
HE SHOWED ME UP! Joey Anderle is now the proud author of two books and few teenagers can say that.
And I pay my debts ;-)
Well done, son. Well done!
Below are both of his books (Links take you to Amazon to check them out.)
(P.S. – I’m not saying that the precocious teen wrote the opposite of what his dad suggested to him during story discussions just so he could be rebellious…but he totally did.)
Forever Defend
The Kurtherian Gambit Book 17
Prologue
Yollin System, Three Years After Straiphus Rebellion
They say that history is written by the victors, and they are right. The reason is completely logical. Those that lost aren’t around to write anything.
As the dead can’t write from beyond the
grave.
The latest and most impressive ship built in the Yollin’s new military shipyards slowly and smoothly slid from its moorings as hundreds who watched from nearby ships raised their hands in salute.
The Empress stared in silence as the new, massive, ship slid into place next to her official Royal in-system Transport Pod. The doors opened to allow the Empress’ transport to enter the ship’s cavernous bay.
It wasn’t long before those in the Transport Pod disembarked and made their way to the bridge, which was built in the center of the massive vessel.
Bethany Anne stopped outside of the bridge to look at the dark, six-foot-wide, gray stone monument that had so many names chiseled into it. She reached up and rubbed her hand across a few. Turning, she wiped a tear from her cheek as she took the last few steps to the bridge, the doors opening automatically for her.
She nodded to those standing around waiting for her arrival. The Yollin head of the shipyard, those that worked to make this ship useable by both humans and Yollins, and those who had been employed on the massive electronic infrastructure.
Necessary to house the new Intelligence.
She walked straight to the Captain’s chair, turned and sat down. The Shipyard Master looked over to the Minister of Defense, who winked back at him.
“This is Empress Bethany Anne of the Etheric Empire, show yourself.” She commanded.
A face, a replica of the Empress herself, slowly brightened into view on the front screens, her eyes flaring red. Some of those on the bridge were shocked to see the face of the Empress on the screens.
Their Empress, however, smiled in satisfaction. “Hello ArchAngel, it’s damned good to have you back.”
The face on the screen looked around at everyone standing on her bridge. Then, she looked at the woman seated in the Captain’s chair and smiled.
“Hello, Mother.”
There was a second where no one even breathed, as the AI continued, “This is the Leviathan Class Super-Dreadnought ArchAngel II. I have been commanded to protect the Etheric Empire by Empress Bethany Anne. All Lockdown Protocols on this ship have not yet been implemented. Does the Empress command I enact lockdown protocols?”
“No, I do not,” Bethany Anne replied.
“Lockdown protocols are not activated. Leviathan Class Super-Dreadnought ArchAngel II is now fully operational and will fight all who attack the Etheric Empire until Victorious…or Dead.”
Bethany Anne smiled, her eyes red in memory of those whose names graced the stone outside the bridge. “Good, it’s time you kick some more ass, ArchAngel.”
Yollin System, Ten Years After Straiphus Rebellion
It had been ten years since the battle that had seen the original ArchAngel reduced to so much scrap in another system. The Etheric Empire had grown in influence, power, and prestige. Unfortunately, what they hadn’t grown in was knowledge of where Kurtherians might be hiding.
In the intervening time, those who were aware of the rumors of the human Empress discounted them. While she was very commanding in person, most didn’t believe the stories the humans told in the bars, cities and outer reaches.
Or the few videos she still permitted to float around.
That was about to change.
1
Pirate Ship F’zeer
The vessel on his screen was neither sleek nor svelte. In fact, if you looked closely at it you might have called it a large bathtub in space.
It was ugly, but it wasn’t small. The potential value of its contents was significant enough that even a small piece of them would be worth a couple weeks of gluttony on one of the pirate worlds.
Or on some of the seedier space stations that existed in most systems.
Brell, the captain of the pirate ship F’zeer stayed the course as he watched the passive viewing instrumentation’s data. For the last five years, those damned humans had made his job more and more difficult in the outer reaches of the Eubos, Straiphus and Gorn Systems.
First, he had been forced to give up his minor slave-trading efforts in Eubos. Then black-marketeering had largely become unprofitable in Straiphus. Now the rumor was that just a bit over thirty days ago there had been a set of news torps shot into the Gorn System warning that the Etheric Empress’ Rangers would be extending their damned reach into that locality.
For the good of all citizens.
Well, Brell thought, it wasn’t for the good of his clan at all. So apparently the Etheric Empire didn’t consider his kind citizens. Which was fine.
He didn’t want to be a part of their special clique anyway.
“Captain?” First Officer Wig turned to look at him from his seat a step lower on the bridge. “Permission to engage?”
Brell hadn’t found any ships following the massive commercial vessel, and he had his team try, and try hard. His ship had placed large emitters on the other side of the trajectory the ship was expected to fly. If there had been a cloaked vessel lying in wait, they would have known about it.
“Go,” he commanded finally and reached for his log book. They might be pirates, but that didn’t mean they ran a loose ship.
If you weren’t a good businessman, being a pirate could be an excellent way to lose your life.
Commercial Transport K’leen II out of Yollin Territory, heading toward Gorn Station 2215
The bridge of the ship was calm, the Yollins reviewing their consoles glanced up from time to time, but everything had been calm so far.
“Captain, we just got hit by active sensors!” Radar Operator D’ber yelled.
“Dammit.” Captain M’rin clicked his mandibles and locked his four legs to his couch. “I had hoped the memos would do the trick.”
“You were hoping the memos would do the trick because you lost a hundred credits to me,” the captain’s steward commented as he placed a drink and a stim pill next to the captain.
Captain M’rin turned to look at his steward, who had a small gleam in his eye. “Well, it might be that, or it might be those idiots.” He pointed toward the main screen on the bridge, which was now plotting the location of the suspected pirate vessel. “Might just blow some holes in us instead of boarding.”
Steward A’nick sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, a completely human movement. “We all have a time to die, Captain.”
“Well,” M’rin turned toward the screen as he waited for the next step in this dance, “if it is all the same to you, I don’t intend to do that anytime soon.”
A’nick nodded. “I doubt our passengers wish to perish either.”
Captain M’rin punched a button. “This is the Captain speaking. We have a possible pirate heading in our direction. All secondary personnel, go to your safety zones and remain there until we sound the all-clear or call you for support services. Please be aware that decompression might occur. Take all necessary precautions.”
He clicked off the call button and blew out a breath of air. “Ok, patch me into Section Two-Two-One.”
Section Two-Two-One, Mid-Spine, Commercial Transport K’leen II
Ryu held his hands straight out, palms down. His face was a study in composure, eyes unblinking. If you didn’t know any better, you might think him a 3D-printed statue.
The set of hands beneath his barely flinched, but the change was enough for him to pull on the Etheric and move his hands out of the way. The female’s hands sliced through the air where his had been a microsecond before.
“DAMMIT!” Tabitha hissed as she missed Ryu’s hands. She had decided that he would use a straight-back exit strategy for this game of slaps, but the little bastard had pulled his hands in two separate directions.
“That is officially seven misses in a row, Kemosabe,” the Japanese man told the Hispanic woman. “You now owe me seventy pushups.”
“Gott Verdammt!” Tabitha eyed him. While she technically outranked him, he was still one of her two mentors and counselors. She had learned a lot in the last few years, but she would never catch up to the knowledge Ryu had acquire
d in the hundreds of years he’d been alive.
“Double or nothing?” she asked, smiling at Ryu in an attempt to sell it better.
He raised an eyebrow, but shook his head. “No.”
“Double-dammit!” Tabitha groaned as she dropped to the floor. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”
“You need the exercise anyway, Tabitha,” Ryu consoled her. “Why is it that doing the exercises is a problem?”
“It’s exercise,” she grumped as she started doing her reps of forty push-ups. “That’s all I should have to say. Hell, it’s not chocolate or sex, so why would you even have to ask?”
The speaker came on. “This is the Captain speaking. We have acquired suspected pirate activity. What is your command, Ranger Tabitha?”
Tabitha spoke up as she kept pushing up, dropping down, and then pushing back up. “Mind your Ps and Qs, Captain M’rin, and tell me where the fucking exit on this ship is. Or at least where they are going to come aboard.”
Pirate Ship F’zeer
Captain Brell nodded to his communications specialist. “Put me on tight-beam to the K’leen II.”
Brell was hoping that he… Yes! As he was waiting for the communication video link to connect and steady, he heard that the captain of the other ship was a male Yollin. He wondered if he could get the captain to defect from the Etheric Empire and bring his ship along for the ride. “This is Captain Brell of the F’zeer. Who am I addressing?”
The video didn’t show. “This is the captain of the K’leen II out of the Yollin System, part of the Etheric Empire. To what do I owe this honor?”
Captain Brell released the transmit button so his voice wouldn’t travel back to the Yollin ship.
“Honor?” He looked around his bridge and heard the chuckles he had anticipated. He pushed the button to talk. “K’leen II,” he started, leaning into the mic, “you will slow down, and we will board your ship. We are going to review your manifests and decide on the most valuable tribute to take for allowing you to continue on your way.”
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 47
