Sanctioned – TAM 04 – Snippet 03 of … 03
UNEDITED
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Joel sat in a pod on the hangar deck, having carefully selected one that was turned away from the main walkway.
He’d wanted a quiet word with Oz, and the small space, coupled with the audio integration, meant that he could easily have a two-way conversation with Oz here; better than anywhere else on the base or in the safe house.
Joel waited until the pod door was firmly closed. “Heard you accidentally let ADAM know what the plan was?”
Oz’s audio channel cracked open. “Yeah. Won’t be making that mistake again. She was not pleased.”
Joel’s voice was sympathetic. “Yeah. She’ll get over it. I don’t think it was a big secret, anyway.”
Oz’s voice didn’t convey that he was overly concerned. “Yes. I think I’d agree with you. My Molly mood-heuristic has her being completely back to normal with me by the time the group meeting is over.”
Joel’s tone was incredulous and amused. “You’re kidding! You model her moods?”
“And behavior,” Oz added.
Joel thought for a moment and leaned back in his seat, leaning one elbow against the side of the capsule. “Wow. But what for?” he asked.
Oz’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Wouldn’t you like to have a heads up on how she is going to react to something, instead of sitting around and waiting?”
Joel chuckled, hardly believing his ears. “You mean you can make predictions that are accurate?”
Oz’s voice conveyed that he had realized that Joel was impressed by his operation. “Yes; within a certain tolerance, of course,” he answered, a little pleased with himself.
Joel shook his head, and whistled a little through his teeth. “You’ll have to tell me more about that some time.”
“Sure,” Oz promised. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“Well…” Joel started slowly. “It’s Sean.” He paused a moment. “Well, it’s not Sean,” he corrected himself. “It’s me. I mean, I’m used to being surrounded by competitive jackasses; but normally I can hold my own. But Sean,” he sighed, “he just has too much over me.”
Oz’s voice revealed he would have been smiling. “Ah yes, his enhanced capabilities,” he confirmed sympathetically.
“Right,” Joel agreed, glumly.
“And you’re wondering what I might be able to do to help?” Oz checked.
Joel nodded, shifting his elbow, which had been slipping down the side of the pod. “You read my mind, Oz.”
Oz chuckled. “No – just your heuristic.”
Joel frowned, and sat up straighter. “You’re kidding?” he asked, half impressed, half disbelieving he warranted that much trouble.
“Yes, I am kidding,” Oz confessed. “I haven’t modeled your behavior formally. But, to be fair, you’re not as erratic or complex as Molly, so…”
Joel laughed to himself. “Yeah. I hear you,” he agreed, his attention drifting off as he remembered some of her infuriating complexities. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the conversation. “So, what do you think you can do for me?” he asked.
“Well,” Oz conceded, “nothing from your current installations… But,” he continued, “if we could acquire some additional implants and tech, we could do a heap of stuff.”
Oz paused.
“What exactly are you looking for?” he clarified.
Joel hesitated. “Faster reflexes. For ops,” he added quickly.
Oz couldn’t see, but Joel’s face flushed a little pink.
Oz chuckled. Joel could feel the slight vibration of his laughter through the seat of the pod.
“What’s so funny?” Joel asked.
Oz’s voice was still bouncing with humor a little. “Nothing. Just funny how male humans compete!”
Joel dropped his arm from where he had wedged himself and was almost up out of the seat in protest. “I’m not competing. I’m… I’m…”
The vibrations of Oz’s laughter paused. “Yes?” Oz prompted.
Joel deflated, and slumped back into the chair. “Okay. I’m competing,” he admitted, flushing an even deeper shade of pink. “But it will also be good for the team,” he added weakly.
Oz chuckled again. “This is true,” he concurred. “Which is why I’m going to help.”
Oz went quiet for a few moments. Joel shifted awkwardly in the pod, still feeling a bit hot around the face.
Finally Oz spoke again. “We’re going to need a set of implants, which I’ll have ordered up on the next shipment. And you’re going to have to bring Brock in on this.”
Joel nearly shot out of his seat again. “Whaaaa?” he blurted. “Brock? Why him?”
Oz’s voice was steady, with a hint of irony. “He’s the only one of us with a body who might have the necessary skills to implant the devices we’re going to need.”
Joel settled a little, huffed, and wedged his arm back onto the side of the pod for comfort. Then suddenly, he looked suspicious. “Hang on,” he stalled. “Where exactly are these devices going?”
Oz sounded more clinical now. “We should have a stimulator-cum-relay at the bottom of your brainstem, and then one on the outside of the cortex.”
Joel did a double-take, glaring at the heads up display in front of him, as if he could eyeball Oz. “You what what?! You’re talking about Brock doing brain surgery on me?”
Oz sighed. “Well, yes. Technically. But no need to be so melodramatic!” he exclaimed. “The one in the brainstem can be injected, and it will settle in place. The one in the cortex will go in around your temple, where the bone is thin anyway,” he explained somewhat flippantly.
Joel went pale, the effects of any blushing completely neutralized.
Oz continued. “It will be fine. Brock has more than enough dexterity to take out a tiny slice of bone, put the implant in, and then replace the bone and let it heal up,” he reassured Joel. “You’ll hardly feel a difference once it’s in…” He paused, and then qualified his statement. “Unless it overheats.”
Joel’s voice jumped a few octaves. “What do you mean, ‘unless it overheats’?” He suddenly remembered himself, that he was trying to keep his presence in the pod a secret.
Oz pulled up a simple diagram from the product page of the device he had located on the XtraNET. “It’s a slight risk. If the chip doesn’t go into precisely the right amount of tissue, it won’t be able to run the signal, and so it might heat up.”
The area around Joel’s eyes rumpled in confusion and frustration. “In which case?” he pushed.
Oz remained clinical. “In which case, we simply remove it and try again.”
Joel shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, right, so no big deal, then.”
“Right,” Oz agreed plainly.
Joel looked out onto the hangar deck, away from the brain diagram. “I was being ironic,” he told him.
“Yeah, I got that,” confirmed Oz.
Joel was silent for a moment, thinking through his options. He could always not have the procedure and just keep working out. But then he’d never have Sean’s reactions. Or speed. Or strength.
He sighed. “Okay, so I need to have a word with Brock at some point, then?”
Oz’s channel had gone quiet. Hearing Joel’s response, the audio opened up again. “Yes. I’ll let you know when we might expect these parts though.”
Joel leaned forward to grab the handrail and pull himself out of his seat as the door opened up again. “Okay, great. And thanks, Oz. I appreciate you helping me.”
“Of course,” Oz replied. “Got to help a brother out.”
Joel grinned and hopped out of the pod quietly.
Before closing the door, he peeked around the hangar, just to make sure no one was around. Satisfied, he waved his hand in front of the access panel, and the transparent door slid quietly down.
Joel crept for a few strides, and then stood up straight and walked casually back to the main thoroughfare around the outside of the hangar deck.
Sean Royale, you cocky son of a bitch. I’m going to show you and your cyborg ass who can shoot, he thought as he climbed the stairs two at a time back towards the demon door corridor.
FROM MICHAEL >>> So, Ellie is working through last minute JIT stuff on the book, and she allowed me to have this last author notes on the final snippet before the book releases tomorrow.
Bwuhahahahaha… <**Cough Cough**, oops, I meant “Great!”>
<WARNING – CURSING AHEAD>
This book is fucking awesome. When we laid out the whole 12 book arc, each “4” books is a natural stopping point if we got it wrong, and the fans just don’t want anymore books. So, we had a natural ending that could have occurred.
Thanks to the amazing response from you, the readers, we are pushing for book #5 to release in about 3 weeks or so.
DAMN!
However, let me warn everyone that Ellie has had a rough time with health (caffeine – see her Facebook page) among other things, so that could slip. I would rather she have the option to “go for it, and then adjust” than drag herself too far down.
However, I tried to warn her to push it back, but … Yeah, SHE’S GOING FOR IT.
Now that I’ve said something supportive, let me go find another ‘note’ … It’s time for
“TRAVAILS OF WORKING WITH A BRITISH COLLABORATOR.”
(An ongoing series all by its fucking self. A comedy in 12 parts.)
Setup: By now, I know that Ellie is a (literal) genius. Physics, business, IQ God knows where. However…
(You knew there was a ‘however‘, right?)
However, I was chatting about something and the conversation gets around to a piano she owns, or did own, or something and I find out that she is a very good piano player.
#SONOFABITCH – The best ‘playing’ I can do is (now) tell SIRI or ALEXA to “Hey Alexa, play <Insert Band Here>”. I used to say hit the play button on the radio, but I don’t even do that, now.
Not that my, by now, mute ego was saying, “Seriously? Seriously? She fucking plays a goddamn piano as well? What the fuck else?” Or anything…
But it was, it totally was.
Anyway, we are having this conversation, my (now not) mute ego was bitching in the back of my mind as we carry on our talk when we have this snippet of conversation:
Ellie: (in her British Accent) The Cello is a completely other musical instrument, it opens <other mind paths or some logical and sciency stuff… my ego was already starting to whine and it was hard to listen to two voices at the same time>.
Mike: Are you going to tell me that you play multiple instruments?
SIGNIFICANT Pause.
Ellie: No, I wasn’t going to tell you that…
<My ego just rolled it’s eyes and feinted…>
Born Into Flames – Snippet 2
Born into Flames, Reclaiming Honor Book 5
Snippet 2
By Justin Sloan and Michael Anderle
UNEDITED
Sandra rolled over in bed, the nausea of early pregnancy already making her want to punch Diego for making this her reality. Not that she’d trade it for a second—she wasn’t some vampire set on dealing out justice. She was just a woman trying to survive in this crazy world, and in approximately eight months, a mom trying to keep a family safe in it.
That meant she had less than eight months to do everything in her power to ensure her world, or at least the world that could touch them, was as safe as possible.
Holding her own hair back over the toilet didn’t exactly help her in that goal, but at the moment seemed a necessary evil. She dry heaved twice, then heard a pounding of footsteps behind her.
“Dear?” Diego said, kneeling beside her and holding back her hair. “Is this… normal?”
“Haven’t known many pregnant women, huh?” The words came out with more of a bite than she had meant, but what the hell, she was pregnant. It was late at night, and she was in pain. He could deal with a little grouchiness.
“Honestly, none that I can remember,” he replied.
She nodded, knowing that made sense. In times like these, people weren’t eager to bring new life into the world. It happened, but even when people tried, it wasn’t exactly easy anymore. During talks with Diego at the small vineyard he had made for her, they had decided it likely had to do with the fallout of the collapse of civilization. Whatever had caused that had probably left lasting effects that meant childbirth either wasn’t for everyone, or just made it harder to conceive.
They had laughed about it, and that night laughed some more while they joked about how they could go at it like rabbits and not have to worry about repercussions. And damn, could he bring it. She wasn’t sure if that was the Were in him, or just him—not that it mattered, because him being a Were was part of who he was—but she couldn’t believe the levels of ecstasy he’d brought her to.
And now, as another shudder of pain and nausea swept over her, she just wanted to slap him for even considering touching her.
The way he held her hair back with one hand and caressed her back with the other was certainly helping alleviate that feeling, though. She sighed, closed her eyes, and then pulled herself together.
Diego helped her up and squinted, apparently unsure what he should do here.
“I’m not gonna bite,” she said, washing her hands, since they’d been on the bathroom floor and edge of the toilet. “That’s your job.”
“Are you… coming back to bed?”
She turned off the water and dried her hands, then wrapped her arms around him and gave him a loving kiss. With a smile, she took his hand and walked with him to the main room and the window that looked out over Old Manhattan.
The city was mostly dark but for the glow of moonlight and, in the direction of Capital Square, yellow and blue from neon lights. The view from their new home even showed Enforcer HQ, towering over them, its blue strip along the side lit up like a beacon of law.
They had been staying there before their journey with Valerie to Chicago, but since their return, they figured it was best to be out of the target area. Since dealing with the outside forces, the unruly of Old Manhattan had one main target, and that was Enforcer HQ. Not exactly the type of place you want to be when you’re dealing with pregnancy and figuring out how to raise a family.
“Where do you think they are?” she asked, breaking the silence.
He wrapped his arms around her, creating the perfect picture of a soon-to-be family in the reflection of the window. “You worry about Valerie so much. Will it ever stop?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know, she’s the most powerful woman around.” Sandra leaned her head back so it rested against Diego’s. He was on the shorter side, otherwise she would have been resting her head on his chest. Not that it mattered—he had certainly proven himself over and over, and shown that height had nothing to do with being a man or being able to protect your loved ones.
“The most powerful woman?” Diego laughed. “She’s a day-walking vampire who doesn’t need blood anymore to rejuvenate. That should scare you, not worry you.”
“People with power tend to put themselves in dangerous positions. She’s not invincible.”
“But she has that assassin chika with her,” Diego protested. “From what I saw, that girl could hold her own nearly as well as Valerie.”
“You were watching?” Sandra bit her lip and rolled her eyes at herself. “Sorry, pregnancy brain. I promise, I’m not jealous or anything like that.”
Diego rubbed her belly and kissed her cheek. “You’d never have any reason to be.”
She pulled back, looking from him to their reflection. “Are we really as sappy as everyone says we are?”
“Tell me who said that,” Diego replied. “I’ll tear out their eyes so they don’t ever have to watch us again.”
“Or ears so they don’t have to listen?” Sandra shook her head with a chuckle. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. Let them talk if that’s what they need to do to get over the fact that they don’t have someone to love.”
Diego squinted, looking her up and down. “Speaking of loving…”
“Are you serious, you just held my hair back, while I nearly puked my guts out.”
“But nothing came up…”
“Yuck, man.” She laughed, squeezed his hand, and then moved to the bathroom while he lay back in bed. She turned on the shower. As she undressed and steam fogged the mirror, she assessed her belly, wishing she could see more of a bump. She couldn’t wait for it to stick way out, or for the days when she would be able to see the baby moving and kicking in there.
“Diego?” she said.
“Yeah?” he called from the other room.
“If our baby is a Were, he won’t like… try to claw his way out of me or something?”
“Dear, I promise that’s not something to worry about.”
“But if it was, you wouldn’t tell me anyway, would you?”
Silence. That’s what she thought.
It didn’t do any good to stand here thinking about it, though, so she slid back the shower door and stepped in. When she first felt the warm water cleanse her skin, all sickness and dreariness was washed away.
“Diego?” she called out.
“Yes, dear?”
“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” she said with a playful sing-song voice.
“Yes, dear!”
Find out more about Justin Sloan and his other books at http://www.justinsloanauthor.com
Sanctioned – TAM Book 04 – Snippet 02 of …
UNEDITED
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Kitchen
Joel found Molly in the safe house kitchen, doing battle with the mocha machine.
Again.
“Þöngulhaus Kaffivél,” Molly cussed. “I swear this machine can see me coming. Oz? Help.”
Joel stood in the doorway, watching her press buttons and rattle at panels and levers that didn’t want to budge. “Stressful day, dear?” he asked.
Molly looked up and glared. “It would be fine if I could get this fucking heap of trash to cooperate.”
She turned back to the machine.
Oz?
You’re trying to process a fresh cup, but there is already an empty pod in there.
Fuck my life.
Molly grappled with another panel on the machine, and managed to pull it open. She peered into the little compartment that had popped out and dug out a crinkled piece of plastic. Dumping it in the trash, she turned back to Joel.
“Well, that couldn’t have gone much worse,” she said.
Joel watched her, amused. “You’re talking about making a first impression on your new team member?” he clarified.
She scowled at him.
Joel grinned. “I think you did perfectly. She now knows exactly what she’s getting herself into…” He couldn’t help but chuckle silently, his shoulders and chest bouncing in amusement.
Molly slammed the panel shut and put the mug back under the machine. “I’m glad you’re amused,” she retorted, poking at the button on the machine again.
Joel, still grinning, pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and plunked down. “Okay, let’s see what we can do about this leadership thing. I mean, you were doing so well! What, with finding a way to keep Crash from going crazy, and listening to the others about what they need to be motivated and engaged on this isolated rock.”
Molly turned and leaned against the counter while the machine whirred and did its thing. “Yeah, really great… You know that Crash hasn’t been using the pods just to get his cabin fever ya-yas out?”
Joel cocked his head. “Huh?”
Molly folded her arms. “Yeah, he’s using his pod time to go and see some chick he’s been talking to on the other side of the asteroid.”
Joel looked confused. “But Paige said he’s been more relaxed since he had pod time.”
Molly raised her eyebrows knowingly. “Well…” she paused, waiting to see if the penny would drop. When Joel showed no signs of putting it together, she moved on. “The point is, this ‘motivating the troops,’ or, more precisely, training and managing them, bites.”
The machine fell silent and she picked up her mug. “You want one?” she asked Joel, indicating at the machine.
He shook his head. “No thanks. But this management thing is just something you need to work on. No one – well, very few people – are able to just do it naturally. Why do you think the military invests so much in leadership training, and personnel development?”
Molly sat down on the other side of the corner where Joel had placed himself. She hugged her mug with two hands and shrugged. “Dunno. I can see it’s important. But I just don’t know where to start.”
Joel leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “You’ve already started. Now we just have to keep refining,” he told her. “So, why don’t we talk about finding out what really motivates them?”
Molly shrugged again. “Okay,” she said flatly.
Joel took that as a sign to continue. ”Alright, so let’s take Pieter. He’s an odd one. He’s not a soldier. He doesn’t do this for the pride. Or for justice. But he does care about his team. What do you think he struggles with most, though?”
Molly wracked her brains. Her eyes fell on the rim of her mocha cup. “Not gambling?” she guessed.
Joel shook his head. “No. The gambling was a symptom. His biggest challenge is being able to connect and bond with people.”
Molly frowned again, and moved her gaze forward to the wooden table, still not looking at him. “How do you know that?”
Joel tilted his head. “You remember when we had that post-op pizza fest, where you announced Maya was joining the team?”
Molly nodded.
Joel sat back in the chair and crossed his legs in a four shape. “You remember how Pieter lit up when Sean ruffled him, and bear hugged him?”
Molly took a sip of mocha. “Yeah, vaguely,” she said after swallowing.
“Well,” Joel continued slowly, “that was a breakthrough moment for Pieter. He suddenly felt accepted.” He tried to catch Molly’s eye. “Haven’t you noticed how since then, he’s been hanging out with the others more, and coming out of his shell?”
Molly glanced up at Joel. “Yeah, he’s become more of a smart arse too!”
Joel grinned. “Exactly. Cuz he’s comfortable with the team now. He feels accepted, like he can be himself.”
Molly started to smile a little. “I see. That’s… great.” Her eyes developed a distant look for a moment. “So, how does that help me manage him?”
Joel nodded his head and started waving his hands in explanation. “What it means is that he craves connection. So your job as his leader is to make sure he finds opportunities to keep developing that. That’s why on the training exercises, I keep pairing him with either Paige or Brock. They’ve bonded already – so I keep giving them the opportunity to make that bond deeper. Eventually, he’ll start naturally spending time with the others, too… But to force him out of his comfort zone before he feels ready to, will just keep him struggling and feeling like an outsider.”
Molly pushed her mocha cup forward and let her head hit her arms in front of her. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to do this voodoo you do,” she exclaimed.
Joel put a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. You’ll get it. It just takes time. And practice. How about you have a conversation with Maya next, and see if you can work out what’s important to her? You know – what she hopes to get out of being on the team. What she wants to do with her life. That kind of thing.”
Molly lifted her head, stray hairs flopping over her face and into her eyes. “Yeah. I can do that. I guess.”
Joel took a breath. “Good. That’s the next thing then.” He stood up. “Okay, we’re due in training in a couple of hours, and I have some case files to go through. See you down there?”
Molly had put her head back into her arms. “Yeah…” she said, muffled through the table and sweatshirt arms.
Joel shook his head, and tucked his chair back under the table. He patted her head gently. “It’ll be okay. Promise.”
He left.
Molly?
Yeah?
You have a meeting with the General in ten minutes.
Oh, shit. Right.
Molly lifted her head and pulled her mocha closer. She examined the contents of the cup, her nose wrinkled.
What the fuck is wrong with this mocha, Oz?
I don’t know. Take another sip.
Molly took another sip. She paused.
Oz?
Yeah?
What’s up with it?
Erm. You might not want to drink the rest.
Why not?
You don’t need to know. Just throw it out.
Why?
It’s not good. Just throw it.
Molly’s head hit the desk again, in exhaustion and exasperation.
Bloody hell. Just shoot me now…
FROM MICHAEL >>> MY TURN!
So, I’ve been saving little snippets of my conversations with Ellie because … Well because I would forget otherwise. If I forget, then she has the better memory and my Author Notes don’t truly express my version of the truth.
Which, you know, is the right version.
Here is one from my vault:
Terry Henry Walton Short Story
Wednesday’s Short Story today – in honor of July 4th, U.S. Independence Day.
The Forsaken called Joseph
1775 – John Joseph Dixon
“A good morning to you, Mister Purdie!” Joseph called happily, tamping his pipe as he stood outside the small building where the printing business was located. As usual, John Joseph Dixon was covered head to tie with a wide-brimmed hat, always shielding his face from the sun. He wore the most stylish gloves, because he was an adherent of modern fashion and flaunted his London contacts when packages addressed to him arrived on the latest ship.
“And a fine morning it is, Mister Dixon,” Alexander Purdie replied before looking up and down the dusty street in front of his shop.
“We’ll be meeting at Charlton’s Coffeehouse to discuss important matters, ‘round eleven. I trust you’ll come.” Alexander Purdie was not a large man, but he was of sturdy frame. One of his tasks was to carry bundles of blank print and barrels of ink from carriage to shop. From recorder to journalist to printer to work hand, he did it all. He impressed the ink onto the blank page to share the latest news of the era, news carefully worded to cultivate attitudes and grow the disdain for British rule.
“Charlton’s Coffeehouse? Was only last night I was in Charlton’s Tavern. Methinks it is one and the same, kind sir,” Joseph jousted. Smile lines wrinkled around Purdie’s eyes as he laughed. His cheeks turned brighter red. He was an older man, a widower with grown sons. His printing business had recently been appointed the public printer with the responsibility to print the laws of the Virginia colony. He was proud of that contract, even though his rival Rynd had to die before the honor was bestowed on Purdie.
“You are right, of course,” Purdie replied. “A well-educated man interprets what he sees as his reality versus what he is told to believe. Ever since that stamp tax debacle of sixty-seven, coffeehouses have received such bad press.”
“Nicely stated, my friend,” Joseph replied, using a nail to tamp his tobacco as he dragged hard on his pipe to keep it lit.
To no avail. “Damn. The new crop smells like heaven, but it is not quite ready. Last year’s leaf is failing me,” Joseph complained. Turning his pipe over and tamping it against the heel of his boot, to dump the smoldering ash on the ground.
“I don’t have anything this morning, but tomorrow I’ll need your help, Mister Dixon. Thank you for selling me your share of the business and for your continued help. I haven’t been the same since Mary passed. William has come of age, but he doesn’t love the work. Not like you or I. Regardless, we are in good places, my friend, are we not?”
“I could not agree more, Mister Purdie. It is best for all. Tomorrow at nine, then?” Joseph asked.
“Eight! We will have much to print.” Purdie offered his hand and Joseph took it, shaking warmly, but with far less than his full strength.
Joseph remained on the Duke of Gloucester Street as Purdie returned to his shop.
The hunger burned within. Joseph’s secret was dark and tugged at the edges of his mind.
All the time. He fought with it, but knew it would not be long before he had to feed.
Blood was the only answer.
Joseph shivered. There had been quite the stir in Williamsburg the last time he fed on a calf too close to town. Word traveled quickly by way of too many wagging tongues.
Those upstarts who ran Pasteur and Galt apothecary shop knew that the calf’s death had not been natural. They didn’t believe in witches and searched hard for an alternate answer. While the town’s leaders crossed themselves, the apothecaries had rolled up their sleeves and gone to work, studying the facts without making suppositions.
They learned that the calf’s blood had been drained, even finding the marks where Joseph’s extended canines had found the jugular.
But the leadership was quickly distracted by the churn of events, the inflammatory words of the young rebellion. The speeches and letters of Jefferson, Monroe, Henry, and Lafayette. Two months had passed since Patrick Henry addressed the Second Virginia Convention in Richmond, where they had met because it hadn’t been safe in the capital of Williamsburg. Joseph had gone and watched. They’d met in a church and talked, endlessly they talked, but called for action. Patrick Henry was like a caged animal, ready to be released into the wild. He said what he had to say, finally, and then they returned to their communities and their homes.
Henry’s words resonated with Joseph and he felt their power. They reflected his own internal struggle. He remembered the speech well…
“They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable²and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.
“It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace²but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
Joseph knew that he would forever be a prisoner within his own body, afraid to die, while being afraid to live. It was his cursed life for him to make the most of.
He chose a direction and followed it, the road out of town, toward the coast. He walked briskly and when out of sight of the townspeople, he started to run, far faster than any human should have. He slowed when he felt them ahead.
British military, coming to join the garrison in Williamsburg.
He dodged off the road, finding a place to hide, and he waited.
When they passed, he saw in their minds that soon they would stop, rest before entering Williamsburg. He followed them, quietly, as the silent predator he had become.
They stopped and sat by the side of the road.
“I need a crap,” one of them told his fellows, to their catcalls and laughter. He ventured into the woods, finding a secluded spot to take care of business. He leaned his musket against a tree, hanging his harness from it. He unbuttoned his red jacket, folding it and setting it respectfully on the ground. The soldier undid his trousers and started pulling them down when Joseph struck.
The Forsaken gripped the man’s chin and viciously yanked it backward until the neck bones strained, threatening to break. He bit deeply and drank fully while the man flailed, unable to scream.
When Joseph was done, he gagged at the thought of what he’d done, but reveled in the power it gave him. He looked at his victim. A soldier, with his pants around his ankles. The indignity of it and a horrible way to die.
Joseph leaned the man against the tree, pulled some nearby nightshade from the ground and stuffed it in the man’s mouth. The apothecaries would not be fooled as they knew what poisoning looked like. But it was the best Joseph had at the moment.
The Forsaken headed deeper into the woods taking the long way back to town. He wanted to meet with the good people at the so-called coffeehouse.
He could use a fresh cup. Joseph hoped that Thomas Jefferson would be there. The redhead had a way with words that never failed to make Joseph marvel. He enjoyed their spirited discussions.
“Give me liberty or give me death,” Joseph told the silence of the woods’ darkness. “I shall have neither, but maybe you can, good people of Virginia.”
Read all of Patrick Henry’s speech here: http://www.history.org/almanack/life/politics/giveme.cfm
Learn more about Craig Martelle and his other projects at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Born into Flames – Snippet 1
First snippet from Born into Flames!
Born into Flames is the fifth book in the Reclaiming Honor series by Justin Sloan and Michael Anderle. You can find books 1-4 in the series on Amazon.
From Justin:
Just a real quick one today, but I’m going to keep the snippets coming fast! This is the 5th Reclaiming Honor book, but you might be wondering why the cover looks different. Well, we’re going for something new! The plan is to redo earlier ones too, but I think we’ll start with this and the next.
Story wise, what’s happening here? The last book left off with these two ladies heading north, so here you go 🙂 And as you know, they were going to confront pirates. (Hence the cover. You’ll see).
UNEDITED
The Eastern Coast, Former Canada
Valerie dressed, almost failing to notice the pirate blimp passing in the distance as she glanced back at Robin stepping out of the river. Moonlight cast shadows across the younger woman’s bare skin, shimmering in the droplets of water as they trickled down her breasts and thighs.
Had the blimp gone unnoticed, would Robin have not seen Valerie staring? Valerie bit her lip and turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring, and then froze as a different type of excitement took hold—there, on the horizon and traveling northeast, a dark shape moved slowly along the coastline. There was no doubt it was a blimp, and if it was up here, there was very little doubt that it was operated by pirates.
“It’s the wrong way,” Robin said, stepping up beside Valerie and picking up her clothes. She scrunched her nose and glanced back at the water.
“We don’t have time to wash them, too,” Valerie said, staring after the blimp, but very aware of the pale, nude form of Robin beside her.
“But we want to be heading inland.”
Robin pulled her shirt on with some difficulty as the fabric clung to her wet skin, so Valerie turned to her and helped. When the shirt moved down past Robin’s face, the two stood staring into each other’s eyes.
“You… looked like you needed help.” Valerie realized her hands were still holding the shirt, and that the insides of her hands were touching warm, smooth skin.
“My pants, please?” Robin’s expression was somewhere between annoyed and amused.
Valerie sighed, wondering what was coming over her, and turned to pick up the black pants. Kneeling, she turned to offer her friend the pants, only then realizing what an awkward position this was. She quickly stood and looked away. She thought it odd that a vampire should ever blush, but here she was, blushing like a ripe tomato about to burst.
“I’m just gonna be blunt here,” Robin started.
“When’s that not been the case?”
Robin laughed. “Someone takes your family away and forces you to become a vampire and assassin, you stop worrying about beating around the bush. And on the topic of bush…”
“My God, I was seriously just handing you your pants.” Valerie said with a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to look.”
“Yes, you did.”
Hmmm. Maybe that was true. Shit, everything was so confusing. She pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder at the young woman. “Is there a point to this, or can we get back to pursuing the damn pirates so we can tear their throats out?”
Robin shrugged. “I figure if there’s something here that might distract you, we need to be clear about it.”
“I’m not distracted.” Fuck, she was distracted, she realized as the words left her mouth. She looked back at the blimp disappearing over the horizon and frowned. When she turned back to Robin, the woman had turned away and was pulling her pants up, the contrast between the moonlight on her pale rear and the dark pants made Valerie stare again, and then shake her head to clear it. “Okay, I’m totally distracted. I mean, but isn’t that good? We’ve been walking and walking, and if I don’t have something else to think about besides another day walking, or watching those fucking pebbles and the orange dirt, I’ll rip out my own damn throat.”
Robin pulled her pants up the rest of the way, zipped them, and then turned to Valerie with a smile. “Good. At least that’s out there. Now, I’m freezing and wet, and not in that special way right now, because we just saw a pirate blimp, right? So, let’s get on it.”
Valerie stared, dumbfounded, as Robin started walking. She was so used to being the one that called the shots, or used to Sandra making plays but in a way that still made her feel in control, that this was a completely new experience. Jackson had been a leader, but there had always been a hint of something in his eyes that reminded her he was an unaltered human while she was a vampire.
Here was a young woman calling the shots and telling it like it is, and Valerie found herself enjoying it.
She caught up with Robin and decided to join her in focusing on the pirates and not the other thoughts that, even with this new distraction, she couldn’t seem to keep down.
“And Toro?” Valerie asked.
“We have no idea where it really is, except somewhere north of the lakes.” Robin gestured to their left where, through the darkness, they could make out vast stretches of land that, even with their vampire eyesight, seemed to stretch on forever. “As you said when we took off, we wouldn’t have a clue where to start.”
“So, we take them down along the coast, get our answers, and then move inland.” Valerie waited for the younger woman to nod in agreement, then added, “Great. I’m glad you’re seeing it my way.”
Robin sighed. “I don’t like it, but it makes sense.”
Valerie nodded. She had an obligation to the people of Old Manhattan, and that didn’t include wandering the areas of what was once Canada, searching randomly. She needed to stop the pirates from interrupting trade between Europe and Old Manhattan and had sworn to help Robin track down the slavers that had taken her parents. If they were lucky, the parents would be there waiting… But Valerie was doing her best not to get her hopes up.
Find out more about Justin Sloan and his other books at http://www.justinsloanauthor.com
Sanctioned – TAM 04 Snippet 01 of …
UNEDITED
Prologue
Dear Bethany Anne,
I can’t quite believe that the General has given me the opportunity to be in touch with you.
This may not come as a surprise, but you’ve been an inspiration to me my whole life. Growing up as a geek I was isolated and alone. I would spend my hours researching the dark recesses of the XtraNET to access information about you, your missions and what you’ve done to bring together the Etheric Empire.
I’ve realised in recent weeks though that the information available in the Sark System was incredibly limited. And probably inaccurate. Your name is whispered as a warning to kids who wont eat their vegetables, and amongst criminals who tempt vengeance.
I found it hard to believe that someone who was so driven by justice would be quite so ruthless.
Since meeting your father my suspicions have been justified. I’m starting to understand the sheer scale of the Etheric Empire and what you’ve had to do to create it. You inspire people to follow you, without even being in the same galaxy, for time scales longer than a single life time. You’ve inspired people to lay down their lives in service to the cause.
No monster can do that.
Just catching the glimpses that I have about what the Etheric Empire is, I’ve been inspired. Inspire to do more. To make more of a difference in the world. To take on bigger challenges.
And still, when I look at all you’ve achieved, and all the lives you have touched and transformed, I can’t believe that I could do anything like this. I have a small team: a handful of good people right now, and honestly I’m struggling.
I don’t know how to be the leader they need right now, never mind the leader I will need to be for what may be to come.
And besides, who am I to lead them as broken as I am?
I don’t know if there is an answer to this question, but given the opportunity to write you I thought that if anyone had any wisdom to share on this topic, it would be you.
Forever in your service.
Ad Aeternitatem.
Molly Bates
CHAPTER 1
Gaitune-67, base conference room
Captain Jack Nolan sat awkwardly on the other side of the conference room table. All her years in the field had made her adept at combat, strategy, and commanding troops. She was a decorated officer, and knew how to rain hell on her enemy. As a larger human, she had the strength to rival even the bigger Estarians on her teams, and had kicked the ass of many a superior rank in her military training, literally – and figuratively -in, well, everything.
She also had a reputation for taking no bullshit.
Or prisoners.
Nothing had prepared her for this, though.
The woman they called “the boss” sat across the conference table, watching her. Every now and then she would make a facial expression like she was having a conversation that no one else could hear. She was geeky, that was for sure; but it seemed like she’d been transplanted into the body of… a cheerleader, and just forgotten.
The commanding officer who had recruited her from Estaria and brought her up to this secret asteroid base sat beside the woman, asking the questions. That was strange in itself, since she was told she already had the job.
If she wanted it.
“What would you say is your biggest weakness?” the officer known as Joel Dunham asked her.
The woman held up her hand to interrupt him. “Actually, I need to ask something.” The geeky-cheerleader hybrid glanced over at Dunham. “Sorry – do you mind?”
Dunham waved his hand obligingly, granting her the stage.
The boss looked at her, a small frown across her eyes and forehead. “I’m sorry. I have to ask,” she began. “But why do you call yourself by a man’s name?”
Jack had been wondering how long it was going to take before someone asked her that. She took a deep breath.
The boss looked a little uncomfortable asking her own question. “I mean,” she continued quickly, “it’s okay and all. We accept people exactly as they are, for who they are, here. But you, er… you seem female.”
Jack smiled in acknowledgment. “I am. But my father wanted a boy, so he raised me as a Sarkian would raise a boy – with martial arts, gun training, and hand-to-hand combat. And he called me Jack. My mother had planned to call me Jacqueline.”
The woman sat back, her face relaxing. “Ah. I see. That makes sense.” She looked at her colleague, and was about to let him continue. Then she did the face like she was talking to someone else.
She seemed to change her mind, and glanced back at Jack, and stood up. “Okay, so the job’s yours, if you want it. We’d be glad to have you on the team.” The strange woman walked around the conference table to shake her hand.
Jack stood up, bewildered, and took the handshake. She glanced at Joel, who still had holo screens out and was mid-interview or mid-conversation… or mid-whatever this was – and looked equally thrown by his colleague’s behavior.
The boss woman turned towards the door and started heading out. “You can manage from here, right Joel?”
Joel turned to watch her leave. “Er, yeah. Sure thing, Molly,” he agreed.
The woman left.
Jack, unsure as to whether she should speak her mind, decided to anyway. “Wow. Ghosted!” she exclaimed, a little humor in her voice, as she tentatively sat back down.
Joel grinned. “Yeah. You’ll get used to that. She er… struggles with the social element sometimes.” He chuckled a little. “Don’t worry, she’s great when you get to know her. She was probably juggling a few things at once, just then.”
Jack frowned a little. “Juggling? What do you mean?”
Joel relaxed a little and leaned forward on the enormous conference table, as if letting Jack in on the joke. “Ah, she has an AI in her head. She may have been given intel, or something she needed to act on right away.”
Jack looked like she understood. “Ohhhh” she mouthed softly, smiling in appreciation at being let into the fold.
The door to the conference room whooshed open, and a huge muscular guy walked in, making even Dunham look weedy in comparison. “Molly said you guys were ready to start orientation?” he said to Joel.
He glanced over and smiled at Jack.
Joel swiveled around in his chair and sat forward, leaning his arms on his knees. He glanced back at Jack, then back at the muscle guy. “Yeah. We’re good, I guess. That is…” he turned back to Jack. “You want the job, right?” he asked.
Jack shook her head, confusing Joel for a second. “Hell yeah,” she smiled. “I’m in.” She smiled to herself. “Heck, if you guys are even half as crazy as the rumors say you are, and with even a fraction of what I’ve seen in the last few hours getting here, and all…” she motioned to where Molly had been sitting. “I’m in for anything!”
Joel stood up as the new guy walked around to the other side of the table to introduce himself. “Well, in that case, I’m Sean Royale. I’ll be your liaison between normality and crazy.”
Sean held out his hand. It was huge. Jack, who had been known to put a large number of marines on their ass in various forms of arm wrestling, took his hand, and made the smart move to not try and prove anything. “I’m Jack,” she told him, shaking gently.
Sean grinned. “Good to meet you, Jack.”
The pair looked over to Joel. Joel closed out his holos. “Okay, so if you guys are good, I’ll go catch up with the lady boss. Squad training in two hours, yeah?”
Sean nodded. “We’ll be there.”
Joel smiled and left the room, leaving Sean and Jack alone.
“So,” Sean reflected, looking at Jack. “You don’t seem the normal commanding officer type. How did you end up getting selected for this crazy house?”
Jack shrugged. “Long story. But yes, not your normal CO. I had a knack of winning in the military; they had no choice other than to promote me. That’s where I discovered I’m not the natural administrator.” She cocked her head contemplatively. “So I think this level of crazy mixed with field work is going to suit me just fine. As for how I got selected…” she gestured towards the door, “You’ll have to ask Captain Dunham.”
Sean motioned for her to lead the way around the conference table. “Well, in that case, let’s introduce you to your team, and the base of magical adventures!”
The two headed out of the conference room.
Jack allowed herself to grin broadly only once his back was turned. She followed Sean out of the conference room.
FROM ELLIE >>> This is from a conversation I had with “Yoda” yesterday.
Ellie: I feel like I haven’t had a weekend.
MA: that’s because you wrote 20k words.
Ellie: I spent 8 hours watching Vampire Diaries from the beginning on Saturday.
MA: ah cool. It’s research.
Ellie: Uh huh. (Author doesn’t mention it’s the second time she’s watching it through…Allows conversation to move on.)
Now, for Michael’s turn at deciphering this (meaning, I get to say my part…)
Ellie: I feel like I haven’t had a weekend.
<<Why? (she tells me) Ok, I understand (and I am sympathizing with my collaborator)>>
MA: that’s because you wrote 20k words.
Ellie: I spent 8 hours watching Vampire Diaries from the beginning on Saturday.
<< Now, I’m thinking to myself “Vampires…we have vampires in The Kurtherian Gambit. How can I make her feel less guilty about taking the time to just enjoy herself a little?”>>
MA: Ah cool. It’s research.
Ellie: Uh huh. (Author doesn’t mention it’s the second time she’s watching it through…Allows conversation to move on.)
<<I’m thinking I’ve done her a good deed…Which apparently doesn’t go unpunished as I have to read about it here…Perhaps she forgot I might be the one who loads the snippet? Wait until tomorrow Clarke. Wait until tomorrow…>>
THREE DAYS UNTIL RELEASE! (Thursday)
Forever Defend Snippet 04 of …
UNEDITED
QBBS Merideth Reynolds, Yollin System
A couple of jump gates away, inside the most powerful woman in the galaxy, an AI was…chuckling.
If only to himself.
Bethany Anne put a hand up to stop General Lance Reynolds from making a comment. He had barely raised an eyebrow when she went inside herself to have a conversation.
Why are you laughing, ADAM?
>> ADAM isn’t here right now, please leave a message after the beep.<<
>>Beep.<<
Cut that shit out. Who are you fucking with?
>> Wait, why would you think I am presently messing with anyone?<<
You live inside my head. Perhaps, just perhaps, I’ve learned a trick or two over the years. Now, who is it?
He paused long enough for Bethany Anne to register his hesitation before he answered.
>>Tabitha.<<
Bethany Anne mentally chewed on that answer for a small part of a second, looking at the different ways ADAM could interact with her Ranger, and why he would.
Are you messing with Achronyx?
>>Well,<< he gave her the mental equivalent of a sniff, >>she keeps complaining about Achronyx, so I thought I would modify his code. With his permission, of course.<<
Make sure it doesn’t affect an operation. She was just about to return to the conversation with her dad when she added, and keep me in the loop.
The General’s eyebrow was still raised in curiosity, as he had waited less than a couple of seconds before she came back to him.
Pirate Ship F’zeer
The pirate ship’s hatch unlocked and allowed Tabitha and Ryu to enter. Its warning systems had been hacked to prohibit notification of anyone inside. Both humans deactivated the protective shield that had facilitated their short spaceflight. The shield had kept radiation and other nasty things away from them, and heated them, so they didn’t freeze out in space.
Tabitha wrinkled her nose and whispered, “Why is it that Skaine ships always smell so nasty?”
Ryu nodded in agreement. “It would be nice if they would sanitize a little more before we came over to kill them.”
“No shit,” Tabitha agreed as she checked her weapons. She unsnapped a couple of secondary weapons, making sure they were loose and available.
—
Captain Brell turned in his chair. “Notify Command of our location. Send them all of our information. If we are going to get busted, we need to make this a haul worth talking about.”
Communications Mate Yuhig smiled at his captain and sent a very short message.
It was time the Skaine brought in the big guns. No more being careful with the Etheric Empire.
City of Bouk, Planet Straiphus, Straiphus System
R’yhek looked down at the human.
He was pretty damned large for a Yollin. Many figured his mercenary years had made him a fighter, but while he could hum the tune quite well, his preference was to make money by trading. When he left the teams, he had bought himself a halfway-profitable bar away from the main planet and bullshitted with other Yollins and the occasional alien in exchange for some cash.
R’yhek scratched one of his mandibles in consternation. “Are you even old enough to drink, human?”
The young woman smiled, then winked one eye at the Yollin. “Depends on whether my parents are around, Barkeep.” Her Yollin was fluent, which surprised R’yhek.
His eyes narrowed in concentration. “Table or bar?”
The young woman nodded toward the bar. “Bar, if you got time to talk?”
R’yhek shrugged. “Bar it is.” He took a couple of steps, then twitched and grunted, grabbing at his back. “Stupid-ass weather.”
“You having a problem with the carapace, Barkeep?” the little human asked from behind him.
R’yhek turned to look down at her. “What do you know about Yollin physiology?”
She shrugged. “Quite a bit, actually. Usually, when a Yollin is holding his back like you are we need to break off some chiton so your back plates can move easier.”
“Oh?” He clicked his mandibles together twice. “How do you do that?” He paused a moment. “And I didn’t get your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t offer it, Barkeep,” she told him, then smiled. “But I’ll share it with you.”
She leaned toward the larger Yollin a little, a glint in her eyes. “My name is Christina.”
Pirate Ship F’zeer
“The battleship should arrive in…” the crewman’s voice faded a moment as the captain swiveled to look at his communications personnel, “…about a twentieth of a turn, sir.”
Captain Brell turned to First Officer Wig and shrugged. “I wonder where the hell they’re going that they were so close?”
The First Officer pursed his lips. “I’m thinking they were lying hidden somewhere nearby and staying dark. We should have known they were around otherwise.”
Captain Brell nodded. “That is puzzling. We had intel on this ship we didn’t share and yet one our battleships was that close by accident when we call out for help?”
Brell stood up and looked around. “Ask them to send us the verification sequence.” He put his hand on the all-call button.
“Sir, they aren’t replying!” Communications came back, his eyes opened in concern.
—
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what the verification sequence is?” Tabitha hissed to Achronyx. “It’s not like I’m the one inside their computers right now!”
“That information,” her EI came back, “is not in any area I’m capable of accessing. There is no way for me to confirm that I’m the ship they want to see at the moment.”
“Well, that tears it,” Tabitha huffed as she pulled a pistol. Ryu raised an eyebrow and unclipped his own gun. “Make sure Barnabas knows the score, as well as our guys on the ship. We should be fine, but the jig is up now. We need you here.”
The EI responded. “Yes, Ranger Tabitha.”
There was a moment of silence as Tabitha cracked the door to peek into the hallway outside the small room the two of them had been hiding in. Achronyx came back online.
“Ranger Tabitha, Barnabas has been notified, and now we have a more serious problem.”
“What’s that?” she asked as she pointed Ryu toward the engines. He rolled his eyes and took off.
“We really do have a Skaine battleship arriving about the same time as I am.”
Tabitha headed toward the bridge. “Well, that’s just fucking fine. More Skaines to line up for Justice.”
Back on their ship, Achronyx sent the update Barnabas had requested as he pushed his engines into the red. His was a capable ship, but even he couldn’t duke it out with a battleship and win.
If he couldn’t get there in time and Ryu couldn’t convince Tabitha to leave, there was going to be a problem.
Tabitha had already promised to never run from a fight with Skaines.
City of Bouk, Planet Straiphus, Straiphus System
“Huh.” R’yhek reached down to slap her outstretched hand. “You know a few of our customs.”
Christina twirled her hand in a circle. “Turn around. I’ll deal with your back problem.”
“What, just like that?” R’yhek asked. “Don’t you need some medical equipment?”
“Well,” she shrugged, “that would certainly help, but if you can handle a little pain, one of my uncles showed me how to do a field-expedient fix for the issue.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m going to slam my open palm,” she told him, opening her mid-sized hand and gently pushing it forward while pulling her other arm back, the fist closed on that hand. “Right between the two plates, pushing the middle one out.”
R’yhek blinked a couple of times, then shrugged. How hard could this little human hit, anyway?
He turned around. “Ok, I’m game.” He clicked his mandibles in humor. “What the hell, how much can this hurt?”
“Well,” she told him, “my uncle says it hurts like a sonofabitch.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the son of a female dog, but I know a few dogs, and I’ve no clue why he says that.”
“Who’s your uncle?” R’yhek asked.
“This one’s name is Kiel,” she told him. “Now hold still for two seconds…”
CHAPTER THREE
City of Bouk, Planet Straiphus, Straiphus System
The slap to his back, when it came, was nothing like R’yhek had expected. It was everything her uncle had said it was.
And twice as painful as he would ever have believed possible.
He let out a roar of agony as he staggered three steps before falling into a table, bouncing off, twisting in the air, and landing on his back on the floor.
“Oooowww,” he groaned as he heard footsteps come closejr to where he was dying in pain. Or living, yeah, he guessed he was living in pain since he still felt it.
“So Uncle Kiel was right, huh?” someone asked.
R’yhek looked for the person who belonged to the voice. His eyes finally focused on the young human again. “What did you hit me with?” he moaned. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a bistok.”
“My palm,” she answered, lifting her hand. From where he was laying on the ground, it looked inflamed. Just as if she had used it to hit him.
“How?” he whimpered.
“My aunt says if you are going to hit something, do it hard, fast, and continuously.”
“Another Yollin?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Who is your uncle?”
“Uncle Kiel is the Leader of the Empress’ Yollin Mercenary group.”
R’yhek followed what she said, but then his brain caught up. “WHO?”
“Uncle Kiel.” She shrugged.
“Not that who.” R’yhek had just realized who she was talking about, though. No Yollin who paid any attention to politics in the Etheric Empire was unaware of the Empress’ Yollin Mercenary team or their leader. Kiel.
“Oh, my aunt?” she asked him, holding her hand out.
He reached up, not thinking about how much he weighed versus her. It wasn’t until she helped pull him up that he realized she was damned strong.
Really damned strong.
He reached around and grabbed his back. He gingerly twisted to his left, then right, and finally bent back further than he had recently dared.
He was pain-free. “I’ll be dropped in bistok shit,” he murmured. She made a face of disgust. “What, have you been around bistok shit before?”
“Too many times,” she agreed. “The Bitches like to go play with them in their nests. It’s just gross.”
Her casual use of an Etheric human term twigged R’yhek once more. “Who did you say your other relative was?”
“I didn’t.” She grinned. “But I can tell you I’m named after her.”
“Christina?” he asked. “I don’t recognize that name.”
“No?” She smiled. “My whole name, good sir, is Christina Bethany Anne Lowell.”
R’yhek’s eyes opened wide. He knew exactly who this human was. There were whispers about her all over the place, and he looked around in concern. Wherever she was, her parents were bound to be close. Those three couldn’t come into an area without all kinds of whispers happening.
You absolutely didn’t fuck with the girl. But if you did, you had best make sure Mom didn’t find out, or you would get your kneecap shattered by a bullet.
And for bistok’s sake, you didn’t ever want to ever get her father pissed off.
“Oh, they will be here shortly,” she told him. “But don’t worry. We aren’t here to screw you over,” Christina told him as she moved toward the bar and slid onto a stool.
R’yhek slid behind the bar and walked over to the human. When he reached under the bar, he noticed her tense and drop an arm to her side. He knew she had something in a pouch, but he hadn’t realized it was a weapon until he grasped just who she was.
He slowed his movements. “Just liquor.” When he brought out a clear bottle with a deep amber liquid inside.
She winked. “Sorry. I can never be too careful.” He noticed she kept her arm lowered.
“That’s damned smart,” R’yhek agreed, grabbing two small glasses from behind him. He put them halfway between the two of them and poured each about a third full. “This is from the Eubos System. In general, the stuff they distill could be used to clean engine parts.” He closed the bottle. “But they have a station—”
“Seven-Seven-Two,” she interrupted. “I recognize T’ller’s mark on the side of the bottle.”
R’yhek blinked a couple of times at the human and turned the bottle to see. She was right. He looked back at her. “How do you know T’ller?”
“Um, my,” she scrunched her face up a bit, “I’d say aunt again, but Aunt Tabitha says to call her BFF, because calling her ‘aunt’ makes her feel too old.”
“Tabitha?” R’yhek felt a little cold at this revelation. Given the crowd she was running around with, there was probably only one human named Tabitha she might know. “You mean Ranger Tabitha? Ranger Two. That Tabitha.”
“Sure.” She grabbed the two glasses and handed R’yhek the one in her left hand. When he held it, she clinked her glass against it and took a large swallow, then shook herself quickly. “Damn!” she got out, before taking a smaller sip. “That first shot fucks a person up.”
R’yhek eyed the human as he slid the bottle back under the bar. She had just taken a shot of T’ller’s best, and strongest, alcohol. Most Yollins in this town would have had to spend a day working to earn enough money to buy that swallow.
He eyed his own glass and mimicked her shrug. He took his first swallow and grinned at the blaze of fire as his body seemed to come alive. He wasn’t sure what it did to a human, but from her flushed face, it was certain she was feeling something.
“And your aunt?” he asked, leaning on the bar with his left arm and manipulating his glass with his right.
“Tabitha?”
“No, the one… Oh…” R’yhek closed his eyes. “Your name.” He took another large swallow of his drink and let the fire hit him a second time before he asked, “Would someone like myself call her ‘Empress?’”
When she smiled and nodded her head, all R’yhek could wonder was…
What did he do to have the who’s who of the Empire walk into his bar?
It was at that moment that his doors opened again and R’yhek looked up to see two more humans come in.
Her parents.
R’yhek sighed. He was well and truly fucked, he just didn’t know how—yet.
FROM MICHAEL! >>> I’m eating TEX-MEX right now 😉
I’m so hhaaaaapppyyyy…SOOO VERRRY HAPPPPYYYYY….. (Tex-Mex makes Michael a happy, happy guy)
I’m traveling to Austin, TX in a couple of hours to work with Martha Carr tomorrow on the Oriceran stuff, and work on the beats for MIGHT MAKES RIGHT (TKG 18 – Next book) … Then w/ Ell Leigh Clark on Aliens Monday… PLUS…
CELEBRATE THE RELEASE OF FOREVER DEFEND TOMORROW!
(More chips and salsa, please.)
me.
Forever Defend Snippet 03 of …
UNEDITED
“Figures,” Bethany Anne grumped as she reached for the case. John released it before she got there, but she snagged the handle before it could fall six inches. She pivoted and turned back to her quarters, asking over her shoulder, “What color?”
John lowered his arm. “Why, your favorite, of course!”
“Hey!” she protested, as she turned to close the door to her bedroom. “No one can see me bleed wearing this color!”
The door closed and John grinned. “Well, anyone else’s blood, anyway.” He looked around the personal meeting room for the Empress of the Etheric Empire and raised an eyebrow, then walked the fifteen paces to the cooling unit and opened it. There were at least four types of beer, including a couple of Yollin beverages, in the top third of the unit.
The bottom two-thirds was filled with red bottles with a completely (mostly) legal swoosh along the side. Bethany Anne had said she doubted the Coca-Cola company could bring her to court in another location in the galaxy for trademark infringement, and besides, it helped her remember what home was like.
She had her Cokes in the lower part of the fridge because cold air was heavier than warm air and she liked her Coke just this side of frozen.
He didn’t find one Pepsi in the bunch. He closed the door and smiled. Ecaterina must not have been in here lately.
A moment later his Empress came out of her room decked in a blood-red suit of armor that gripped her body like latex. He was surprised to see that her boots had a two-inch heel. “What is that shit?” he murmured when she winked at him.
“I told Jean if she didn’t figure out how to give me heels, she could keep the next suit of armor. Apparently,” she looked down at her feet, “this armor can be manipulated to be flat for fighting or have heels.”
She started toward the door. “What else can it do?” she asked as John Grimes, her friend, guard, and presently amused male human, followed her out of the suite.
CHAPTER TWO
Pirate Ship F’zeer
Captain Brell examined the two officers responsible for the boarding action. He pointed to the Skaine on his left. “Officer Strill, you are responsible for making sure the bridge is under our control. Shoot one of the bridge crew as an example. Be certain you point out something he has done wrong before you blast his head off.”
“What if they haven’t done anything wrong, sir?” Strill asked. “I know we are supposed to find something, but…”
Brell wanted to slap his officer. Unfortunately, Strill was the most competent to accomplish this operation. His previous boarding officer had died in a poorly-executed bridge encounter. “Skaine always find someone to kill. It keeps the sheep docile.”
There was a moment of silence as Strill thought about Brell’s comment. That was Skaine 101, but until his people had to do it, they rarely thought about the “why.”
Strill finally worked it out in his head. “I understand, sir.” This time, Brell thought there was something new in his voice. A moment later, the captain smiled. It was the sound of a backbone growing.
About damn time.
“Make it happen, both of you.” Brell looked at them. “I want them to show respect for Skaines, and I want this to be the F’zeer’s life-changing haul, got that?” His stern visage made the impression he was looking for. Given that the F’zeer’s had supposedly been recognized and its information sent back to the misbegotten Etheric Empire— and that bitch of an Empress—was it too much of a risk to seize the K’Leen II, or should they just blow it?
Brell’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to his right. “Officer Mobik, I want you to see what type of engines they are using and if they are in perfect working order before you lock them down.”
Mobik replied, “Sir, engines are never in perfect working order.”
Brell smiled, his eyes alight. “Precisely!”
—
“Pirate ship coming alongside External Sector One-One-Five, Ranger,” the captain’s voice commented.
“Seven hundred and seventy-fucking-five!” Tabitha spat and then jumped up, pointing to Hirotoshi. “Ha!” She turned her face toward the speaker. “Thank you, Captain. We will be there in a moment.”
“That would be appreciated. The Skaine are known for their rather aggressive methods of keeping a ship’s crew in line.”
“Yeah.” Ranger Tabitha grimaced as she locked her tools around her body. She couldn’t bring her favorite coat on this trip. “The Skaine didn’t get that memo.”
“Or,” Ryu set his headgear in place and spoke through his subvocal connection to Tabitha, “they might not see it until Achronyx bypasses their security and places it in their queue.”
Hirotoshi, Katsu and Kouki stopped at the door before they deployed to protect the ship from the inside. Hirotoshi winked at Katsu and spoke to Tabitha and Ryu. “Then he back-dates the memo to show they always had it.” He paused a second. “That’s not very Rangerly.”
Tabitha smiled but stayed quiet. As the three went down the hall, Katsu opined, “But it is very Tabitha.”
—
“Have I told you,” Tabitha said conversationally, as she and Ryu paused in the doorway of the small, specially-built exit from their hidden section of the hold, “that I am starting to like these zero-gee trips?”
Ryu looked around at the brightness of space. The ship they were about to leave had slowed to almost stationary. The pirates had caught them at a logical and tenuous location. They didn’t have enough delta-v (velocity) to escape, and the ship was turned the wrong way, anyhow. These large commercial ships were useless for any sort of maneuvers. “That is because we have the flight suits.”
“Well, perhaps.” Tabitha admitted as their suits pushed them away from the K’leen II toward the F’zeer. “Huh, would you look at that?” Tabitha pointed toward the location where the ship’s moniker was supposed to be painted. “Seems like the captain’s database was accurate.” Ryu looked in the direction her arm was pointing and had to admit that the poorly-erased name gave lie to the F’zeer designation. Tabitha toggled the HUD command to enable her helmet-cam to take pictures.
“You know they will probably try to sabotage the ship, right?” Ryu asked. After all these years with Tabitha, he still couldn’t figure out just how strategically aware she would be in any given situation. Usually, she was intelligent enough to overcome the advantages his age difference and accumulated wisdom gave him.
Other times she would step off the top of a building, forgetting it was three stories down.
It was always a tossup which Tabitha he would get.
As the two of them drifted down the length of the K’leen II, Tabitha unclipped two pucks from her belt. Both were about three inches in diameter. She casually tossed them toward the back of the ship and ignored where they were headed. “Achronyx, make sure those end up someplace that will cause massive problems with their engines.”
Her EI’s voice came over her implant, “Engines always have problems with them, I understand.”
“Yes, they do, you know?” Tabitha mused as the two of them engaged their suits’ cloaking abilities. While a sharp alien might still be able to see them if one should be looking, there wasn’t a technology known that would be able to locate the two humans as they broke away from the protection of the commercial transport and headed for the pirate vessel.
“Are you into their computers yet?” Tabitha asked her electronic companion.
Achronyx came back, his voice modified to sound offended. “Katsu could have broken their security blindfolded.”
“Yes,” Tabitha mused, “but you didn’t answer my question. Are YOU in their systems?” She chuckled.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” the EI asked. “Please clarify, because I am working to alleviate your concerns where my communications have caused friction in our relationship.”
“Uhhhh…” Tabitha came back after a couple of seconds. “The hell, Achronyx? When did you start caring?”
“I notice you didn’t answer the question,” the EI responded. Tabitha couldn’t tell if his voice sounded smug or curious. Before, she would have assumed smug.
“I’m off my damned game,” Tabitha muttered. This time her comment wasn’t passed through to her EI.
FROM MICHAEL >>> Ok, so maybe if I drop 40% of the book on the team(s) in the space of 24 hours, that is a bit much?
The beta readers are almost finished, the Editing is almost done, it should go to JIT within about 24-36 hours…Release by the 1st for sure, hopefully sooner!
😉
Michael
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Story
Short Story Wednesday!
This week’s short story was indeed short. For next week, I’m working on a piece about Joseph, in Williamsburg, Virginia, in the year 1776. Let’s take a look into his past from long ago, when he was still young, as far as Forsaken went.
WWDE+28
Betty and Lester
A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles short story
Terry laughed lightly, closing his eyes as he remembered when Betty, Lester, and their three cows finally made an appearance.
Terry had been at the Weathers’ ranch when someone started yelling from the other side of the main gate. Terry and Auburn headed out to see who was there.
Once he saw the three cows, he knew who it was. James and Lacy had relayed the story about how Lester had attacked one of the wolves after Ted’s pack went after their cows. Lacy had no kind words to say about Lester, but she had thought Betty would be a good addition.
Terry remembered that conversation well. “We can’t pick and choose like that,” he’d told her. “We have to give everyone a chance. I’m sure the old bastard has a soft spot under that gruff exterior.”
Terry had tried to keep it light. Lacy didn’t like him and probably never would. It was time for Terry to judge for himself.
“You must be Lester and Betty. I’m Terry Henry Walton, and I am pleased to finally meet you!” he said in his most welcoming tone.
“See Betty? I told you they was all a pack of shit-eating morons,” Lester grumbled.
“Lester, please. Why do you have to be so hurtful?” Terry asked, more in jest than serious, but Betty wanted to answer.
“Because he’s just mean!” she blurted. “But there’s a kind soul somewhere beneath all that old-age crust he’s carrying around. Fuck off, you crotchety old coot!”
Auburn snickered, and Lester glared at the young man. “Why don’t you open the gate and let the cows into the pasture with the others. They’ll feel more at home among others of their kind,” Terry said to Auburn.
He wasn’t talking about just the cows.
Betty and Lester helped the Weathers boys stay calm when they thought there was a bad turn of the weather, a weed infestation, or roaming predators. The old people had a good sense of where the young and energetic could best spend their time.
Check out Craig Martelle’s website at http://www.craigmartelle.com/
New Nomad’s Force Snippet!
Nomad’s Force – SNIPPET 2!
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles, Book 9
UNEDITED
San Francisco
It had taken a week before Akio proclaimed Ramses fit to travel. After that, they loaded everyone into the pod and headed home, stopping in San Francisco on their way.
“Boris. Are you ever going back to North Chicago?” Terry asked as they enthusiastically shook hands.
“I’m thinking no, Colonel. It really is hard to beat this place, and there are ten times the number of people from which to find new recruits. That’s looking good, too,” the lieutenant replied, turning to look at his adopted city.
Terry followed his gaze. It was hard to believe how much the city was thriving. A container ship was negotiating the bay outside the wharf. A tug was waiting for it to get closer.
“I could run a new platoon through training every month, if we want. Is there anything in the training schedule we can cut back?” Boris asked.
Terry pursed his lips and looked at the blue sky. “I don’t want to short-change training. Two months is an absolute minimum followed by continuous on-the-job training for the next six months. If we hurry them through, then we water down our capabilities. They need both types of training to get the most out of their new profession.”
TH needed the numbers for his deployment plan, but he refused to sacrifice quality to get them. “Keep the standards up, Lieutenant and if you have to, run bigger recruit training classes until we can run multiple sessions simultaneously.”
“That’s what I’m worried about, Colonel. Our people with combat experience are limited, especially as we rotate the platoons in and out. I’m losing a lot of continuity. We need a permanent garrison, like you mentioned last year,” Boris said pointedly.
“I know, but I saw too much partying and not enough FDGing,” Terry replied, looking around to make sure no one was within earshot. “I’ll tell you that it pissed me off. People need to be ready to take on the Forsaken and their minions, whether that happens next week or five years from now. We can’t ever drop our guard, or people will die!”
“I understand completely, but it’s hard to make the others understand,” Boris said softly.
Terry put a fatherly hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “It’s your job to make them understand,” Terry added. “What do you say we let the newest tactical team members run your people through their paces, and then we’ll leave it to you to find the warriors to establish a permanent garrison? We’ll stay here for a couple days. Decide by then and we’ll take the rest back to North Chicago with us.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Boris replied, before hurrying away to find his two platoon sergeants and to rally the troops.
It took longer than Terry wanted. Kim, Kae, Marcie, and Ramses had joined him as he waited, impatiently tapping his foot.
When the three platoons finally formed, two from the garrison and the one recruit platoon, Terry was fit to be tied. He demanded the utmost of military discipline. He’d striven for standards that rivaled the Marine Corps in which he was raised.
“Settle down, please,” Char whispered into his ear. He tried not to smile. “You’re vibrating in place.”
He stopped tapping his foot and turned to look into his wife’s beautiful, purple eyes. Without looking away, he said, “Kim, Kae, Ramses, and Marcie. Why don’t you guys show them some stuff you learned from Akio, as well as tell a story or two about combat? Take care of it, please,” Terry ordered.
“That’s more like it. Don’t want my big husky colonel to wear a sourpuss,” Char purred.
“Moi? A sourpuss? Never, woman,” Terry said. She cocked one eyebrow.
“You are the king of the sourpusses,” she retorted softly, smiling at him.
“And you are as beautiful as the day we first met,” he told her as the newly enhanced warriors brought the platoons into a huddle.
“Of course, I am,” Char answered, taking Terry’s hand.
Visit Craig Martelle’s website to learn more about his books and his life in Alaska. http://www.craigmartelle.com