THE DARKEST NIGHT – Snippet 08 of …
UNEDITED
The flash of lightening was bright enough, the flash as it vaporized the attack ship with Marc and Stephanie nearly blinded Terek. “Land this fucking thing already, or I’m going to throw up all over you!” Terek yelled as his partner, Leon whooped and yelled as they flew from The Folly over to the prize.
“God damn, did you see the explosion? That could have been us!” Leon exclaimed.
“That isn’t helping, Leon.” Terek muttered, as he refrained from slapping his pilot in the back of his head.
The CLANG of their landing did little for Terek’s stomach. He patted himself down quickly, not caring too much if he lost a couple of items if he could just get the fuck out of this small death trap.
He’d kick the shit out of Leon later.
The canopy on their little anti-grav ship cracked open and he reached up to push. The damned thing absolutely couldn’t get open fast enough for him.
The sudden BANG from Leon’s pistol inside the canopy startled the shit out of him as well as a female yelling from right next to him.
“Motherfucker that’s my most comfortable shirt you just put a hole in!”
Terek heard Leon’s scream as an arm reached into the cockpit and crushed Leon’s hand. His screams turned to gurgles when she beat him in the head three times, then chopped him in the neck. Once for each word she yelled out.
“That…Hurt…You…Bastard!”
The fourth chop to Leon’s throat caused his final choking.
Terek was busy yanking out his pistol to pull it up and aim at the woman. He saw her yellow glowing eyes and new immediately that he was fucked.
He had no silver bullets in his pistol. There weren’t supposed to be any werewolves flying over the fucking sea so who needed silver?
Apparently, he needed silver.
She had glanced over at him as she was beating the shit out of Leon and didn’t seem too worried. Terek found out why when another arm reached over and grabbed his wrist, easily breaking it, the pistol hanging limply from fingers he couldn’t control.
The screaming was now coming from his own mouth.
He grabbed his wrist and turned to look up into the eyes of a male standing next to me and his spirit gave up. “Oh, fuck me!” Terek grunted when he noticed his red glowing eyes.
“Not my type,” the young vampire answered as he popped the belt off of Terek and casually pulled him from the skid and tossed him, screaming, over the side of the ship.
“He’s not?” Jacqueline asked as she unbuckled the first pirate and pulled him out of the little craft. She pulled the pirate out with two arms, “How the fuck did you make this seem so easy?” She grunted, then turned towards the middle of the craft and heaved the pirate’s body back over her head, sending it off the side of the ship.
There was no yelling from this body.
Mark smiled as he answered. “Practice.”
—
Captain O’Banion swallowed as he and those on the bridge watched the casual way the two youth took out the four would-be pirates. No one on the bridge said a word, but all could feel the fear cross with the gratitude.
Without these two, they might have had deaths on the ship as they fought pirates they wouldn’t have known were sneaking aboard.
Who tries to land those damned anti-grav slips in a storm? There was no one stupid enough to try that.
Except these pirates who had just all been greeted then casually thrown over the ship to fall to their deaths.
And the one Jacqueline had beat the shit out of for shooting her.
“I think the young woman is going to need food,” Miles spoke into the quiet of the bridge. “Timms, take care of that. Someone also needs to make sure that Mark is ok. I didn’t see if he got hurt, but we need to make sure he is ok.” The Captain turned to Sasha who had spoken before, “Are you up to making sure Mark is ok?”
This time, the infatuation Sasha usually displayed when talking about Mark was absent.
It was replaced with fear.
—
Michael had spent the better part of fifteen minutes locating the heartbeats, the heavy breathing and finally the people who were doing both.
Twice, he had heard gunshots that didn’t come near him. Later, he found those who had taken their own lives. For those, he made the sign of the cross over their bodies.
They had come to grips with their own sins.
Now, he had only the final location, the engine room, to deal with. He moved down the hallway and started slowly walking down the steps to the lower level.
Click, click, click, click.
Behind him, the ship was deathly quiet.
Engine Room on the Folly
Cholly Jake hadn’t been able to raise the bridge in over five minutes. It told him all he needed to know.
The anti-Christ had found them, just like his mother had told him thirty years before, from her deathbed.
“You be careful you not be doing what you ain’t supposed to be!” She had said, “Or the dark Christ will take you out one day!”
He was busy wrapping the wire around his dead man’s switch as his mind replayed that last conversation, the touch of his mother’s hand caressing his cheek as a tear tracked down the face of the younger version of him.
He reached up and wiped it off, again.
“I might be joining you soon, mom,” he whispered. “But I won’t go down without taking the devil with me.”.
He pulled hard, busting the wire and turned around as the steps kept coming closer to his engine room.
It was a shame he wouldn’t be able to see the explosion from the outside. He had always wanted to know what happened when you fused all of the power in the anti-grav core.
—
Amanda, shivering next to Arnold spoke into his chest as they huddled outside on the deck of the ship. “The screaming has stopped.”
With the screaming dying, so had the fear. Now, to Arnold, it felt like the danger was walking away from the two of them.
Not that he could do one damned thing about it.
He had been trying to figure out how they could get inside, and the only solution, that he could figure out was unhooking some of the equipment and trying to break the windows to get back into the ship. Well, probably a window so that Amanda could get back in.
He was usually too big for that.
Plus, he could probably hold her over the sharp edges to protect her. He would get scratched, but with some protection, nothing too bad.
He was starting to look around, to figure out which equipment might work when the ship dropped probably ten feet, the two of them slamming back down on the deck.
“Oh, fuck…” Arnold whispered.
There was no way he would be able to save her from a fall this high.
—
“I know your here!” Cholly yelled out, his eyes darting all around the engine room. “I’m ready to answer for my sins, are you?”
The maddening voice came back calm, cool and without any rushing. “If I could die, I would have a long time ago, Cholly Jake.”
“How the hell do you know my name!” Cholly looked behind him and up, just to make sure the bastard hadn’t figured out a way to slip in there somehow. His left hand gripped the dead man’s switch feverishly. “You know neither of us are getting out of this, right?”
“No, Cholly Jake,” the voice replied, “I’m not so sure of that.”
Cholly licked his lips, “My momma warned me about you, but I didn’t believe her. We all thought she was slightly damaged in the brain. The stories she would tell after her dreaming.”
“Stories? People have told dream stories for centuries, Cholly. I should know I’ve heard them for over a thousand years.”
Cholly whispered a curse as he decided to let go. A vise like grip wrapped around his own hand on the dead man switch, keeping his grip tight.
“Now,” the voice whispered to Cholly, who had closed his eyes, expecting the ship to blow apart. “The problem with a device like this is the person you are playing with might be able to read your thoughts.”
Cholly opened one fearful eye and took in the visage of the man in front of him. He was holding a sword in his right hand, his left hand wrapped around Cholly’s own.
He grinned at Cholly.
“If he can read your thoughts, he will know if you intend to truly kill yourself, and when. Then, he gets to play you.” Michael looked down at the dead man switch. “You won’t be needing this anymore.”
Michael slashed down, severing Cholly’s hand at the wrist. He moved to Cholly’s left as the man screamed, grabbing his bleeding stump and dropping to his knees so he was out of the way of the spurting blood.
“So, dead man’s switches only work…”
The ship dropped suddenly, and Cholly gasped as he lost his balance. Michael looked around and back at the switch. He chewed his lip and finished his statement, “If you release them, or apparently do a piss-poor job making them in the first place.”
The ship dropped a second time and Cholly looked back to grin at the man. Looks like Cholly was going to win with or without his hand.
Except the devil wasn’t there anymore.
—
The ship dropped a second time and Arnold let go of the handle on the door to hold Amanda in his arms.
“Why now you big ox?” Her muffled voice cried, “Now that we are going to die, you have the courage to hold me.”
“I’ve told you before,” he answered, playing with her hair a moment until the ship lurched. The two of them went sprawling back ten feet. Arnold yelled for Amanda and grabbed her leg. There was a clang from the door as it slammed open.
Good thing the two of them weren’t there, or they would absolutely be dead at the moment.
Then, he felt Amanda, himself and … another … as they floated away from the ship. Arnold’s vision was focused on their ship as they sped away. The ship was falling slowly when a large black circle encased it, all of it shrunk for a split second, then shattered and exploded out. An invisible wave causing massive disturbances in the clouds around the ship, before it was lost to his sight.
“Arnold?” Amanda’s voice called out, gentle in the night.
“I’m here, Amanda.” he replied, trying to get a lock on where her voice was coming from.
That’s when a third voice entered their conversation, and Arnold’s blood, if he had any still, chilled.
FROM MICHAEL >>> WOOHOOO! Now, I get to take you to the next scene w/ Akio and Lightening! (Michael get’s a bit perturbed at the storm.)
I am in Cabo San Lucas at the moment, but WRITING! I wrote chapter (13? 14?) yesterday on the plane flight down and about to do a sprint this morning before a meeting. Then two more I think this afternoon, minimum.
For those who have read the first Ascension Book, WE HEAR YOU. Yes, the connection to the Etheric Empire isn’t explained (or VERY vague) in the first book and that was on purpose. However, I can tell you when I finished Ellie’s story, I had goose bumps.
She wrote that last scene like a witch.
You WILL know that there is a connection, and I think you will find it to be pretty kick ass.
Michael
ACTIVATED – The Ascension Myth Book 02 – Snippet 1 of …
Prologue
Those on the QBBS Meredith Reynolds fought for the Queen who became their Empress. In time, as the battles and the fighting were reduced and new generations were born to those in space, humans left the Meredith Reynolds and settled on planets both within and outside of the Etheric Empire.
To the human settlers in the Sark System, the Milky Way became known as the Pan Galaxy, because that was what it resembled when viewed from the far edges of the aging Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy. What the humans of Earth called Sagittarius had no meaning without that constellation. To those who had lived on the other side of the Annex all their lives, their home was known as the Loop Galaxy because of the way it circled the Pan.
The Sark System had four planets. Two were close to the star Sark, their sun, and two orbit in the farthest reaches. In between there was an asteroid belt with a particularly interesting asteroid known to a tiny population of inhabitants as Gaitune-67.
The two inner planets were called Estaria and Ogg; the two outer planets were Secoria and Teshovia.
By the time the third generation of human settlers was born in the Sark system, news came down that the Etheric Empire was done with their wars on the Kurtherians and were seeking to become the Etheric Federation. This third generation of humans who settled on Estaria included a little girl.
Her name was Molly.
Broken in spirit, she didn’t understand that the future is determined not by your mistakes, but by the depth of your ability to make things happen and the power of those who believed in you.
This set of stories explains how Molly and those who came to love the broken young woman would challenge the might of the political and powerful and find out the truth.
The truth of the Ascension Myth.
CHAPTER ONE
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Basement Workshop
Brock and Molly stared at the reinforced metal door.
Molly took a deep breath. “Brock, it’s a door.”
Brock tapped the door with his wrench. “With demons or hellz knows what else behind it!” His voice rose half an octave over the course of just one sentence. Brock had piled boxes up against it after his minor freak out and they showed telltale signs of having been disturbed: his handprints in the dust, and a slight haphazardness to the stacking.
“Well, I don’t know what’s behind it, but there are a fuck-ton of boxes in front of it.” She looked over at him. “That’s a lot of boxes for a boogie man to get through.” She mused a moment more. “He’d likely get a hernia, I’m thinking.”
Brock detected a hint of irony in her voice.
He looked sideways at her. “You…you! Don’t be shittin’ me, girl. This demon—this is for realz, and I don’t want no ancestors up in my face when I’m working down here.”
His face had paled, and Molly had to stifle a rising laugh.
She couldn’t help but feel that this was akin to a youngster being afraid of what was under the bed.
A grown man, trained in the arts of science and engineering—one motherfucking badass with a spanner or a hammer—had a big-ass fear of what might be behind an average creepy-looking door that he couldn’t find a way to open.
At some point over the last week he had also set up an array of temporary lights that had helped him feel more comfortable when he was down there alone.
Molly studied the dusty boxes as if they were a three-dimensional logic puzzle. Her brain ticked as Brock waited in anticipation of her verdict.
She had arrived back at the base hours ago, but had declared that she needed rack time before dealing with whatever “motherfucking drama is going on in the basement.” He had let her sleep and caffeinate before she inquired as to what the problem was.
Joel agreed; Brock had made the right call by waiting.
Now, effectively the next day, she had hauled her “lady-boss ass”—as he called it—down to the basement to assess said drama.
Molly exhaled again. There was no easy way to do this.
“Okay, help me.” she told him, stepping up and tugging at one of the middle boxes.
“Girlfriend, you are signing our death warrant, if my Grindle-senses are right.” Brock attempted to sound playful, but anxiety still laced his voice.
“The hell is a grindle?” she asked, hands still on the first box.
Brock stopped a moment, scratching his head with his wrench. “They are kinda small and have ten legs around a central body. I read about ‘em one time. They sit inside of a little hole they build, and then when they sense something above them, they jump out and attack. Wrap ‘em up and eat ‘em.”
“Sounds like a spider from my old holo-documentaries,” she mumbled.
Molly pushed one of the middle boxes slightly with an eye to moving the whole stack, but found that it was too damned heavy.
Brock lifted the top one down.
“If we have ancestors and demon-shit coming after us, it’s on you.” He eyed her knowingly, like a witch doctor who has seen the future.
He carried the first box over to a space in the center of the workshop, as he had done only a matter of days ago.
Paige and Joel emerged from the stairwell, catching some of the conversation. Paige stopped to observe the unfolding events.
Joel pitched in with lifting the boxes. “Whatcha mean, demons?” he asked, curious as to what he’d missed. “I didn’t think Ms. Molly believed in ghosts and ghouls and all that kind of thing?”
He caught her eye and made a face at her as he turned with a box.
She picked up a box from the stack, and catching the look he gave her, rolled her eyes back at him.
Brock dropped another box out of the way. “No, I’m talking about those dimensional-traveling bastards. I get a feeling like I’m being watched around that door, and I just know there is something up with that shit.”
Brock stopped and leaned to the left. He balanced on one leg and shook the other, then resumed walking.
Joel opened his mouth to give Brock grief, but Paige piped up, interrupting him. “Yeah, that could be true,” she agreed.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her.
FROM ELLIE >>>
So MA and I are on Zoom, chewing the fat and chatting about ADAM. MA was musing what might happen if ADAM ever got his own body, and he randomly asked:
MA: Would Molly ever want Oz out?
Ellie: No.
MA: Why?
Ellie: Because she loves him.
MA: Why?
Ellie: Because he’s useful.
MA: … That’s such a Molly comment.
**Ellie’s head hits desk**
— AS SEEN ON ELLIE’S FACEBOOK PAGE
(you have to go there to see ALL of the replies, but this one was kind of out of context, and funny!) FB Page URL : http://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke
ELLIE >> Question: Hey Ascenders! I need your help with something, if I may?
Just been having a “discussion” with MA about something in Book 2. Do you guys understand the layout of the Sark System: two inner planets (Ogg and Estaria), two outer planets (can never remember their names but we mention them in a car ride), asteroid belt in the middle? Or is this something we have to explain in Book 2??
(Skipping some awesome answers…)
😐 I will be back to check on you later. After I sleep. Please make sure you have the accomadations ready for the Pixie delegation. Do not worry about designating a spot for their embassy…they prefer to pick their own spot. If they find you do not have space enough outside they will grudgingly take a room over in your home but they require you to fill it will potted plants. *shrugs shoulders* what can I say…it is in their contract. Which reminds me, please do not attempt to subvert them to your side, they are under contract to The Horde and they take their contracts very seriously.
😉
The Pixies do best when they hear the joyful sound of typing. Do try to keep them happy. Their new contract required we replace their spears (I believe MA likened their encouragement to ant bites, but I digress…) we replaced the spears with tiny pitchforks. My humble suggestion is to type faster…it lulls the pixies into a peaceful mindstate. *tilts head to the side and slowly smiles* Angry pixies have a tendency to prod you back into the house to type more. This actually makes getting the snippets to The Horde a bit difficult. *evil laugh* I will send Bowser around for a snippet later.
*brightly colored portal begins to open*
Alpha Wolf: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller (Olento Research Book 1) by Sarah Noffke
Introducing Sarah Noffke!
We have an author that we want The Kurthierian Universe to meet, Sarah Noffke. Sarah writes a variety of things, and her latest book is a Paranormal, Science Fiction, Thriller, which we thought would be right up your ally.
Stay tuned for an upcoming announcement regarding Sarah and an exciting new project we’ve got cooking.
Check out the blurb to her book and if it lights your fire, then click the link below to learn more about Alpha Wolf: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller (Olento Research Book 1).
Twelve men went missing.
Six months later they awake from drug-induced stupors to find themselves locked in a lab.
And on the night of a new moon, eleven of those men, possessed by new–and inhuman–powers, break out of their prison and race through the streets of Los Angeles until they disappear one by one into the night.
Olento Research wants its experiments back. Its CEO, Mika Lenna, will tear every city apart until he has his werewolves imprisoned once again. He didn’t undertake a huge risk just to lose his would-be assassins.
However, the Lucidite Institute’s main mission is to save the world from injustices. Their best agent, Adelaide Lewis, needs to find these mutated men and protect them and society, and fast. Already around the nation, wolflike men have been spotted. Attacks on innocent women are happening.
http://kurtherianbooks.com/pent
Find out more about Sarah and her books at www.sarahnoffke.com
House of Wolves by Jonathan Yanez
Meet Jonathan Yanez!
We’d like to introduce the Kurtherian Gambit Universe to Jonathan Yanez. Jonathan is a friend and member of the 20booksto50k Facebook group, and the author of House of Wolves: The Vampire Project, Book 1.
If the blurb below interests you, click the link at the bottom to check out House of Wolves today.
History was wrong: werewolves and vampires were made, not born. Buckle up, Buttercup, this is going to get bloody.
Despite her youth, Captain Charlotte Sloan has risen rapidly through the ranks of the queen’s army due to one simple truth; she doesn’t take lip from anyone.
But she’s about to come up against something she can’t beat alone. Gruesome murders have been reported in a far off town. A beast of unknown origin is on the loose and the body count is rising.
If she hopes to survive, Sloan will have to play nice with an assassin well versed in drinking and the best two magicians money can’t buy. When the dust settles, one will die, one will find love, and another will be changed forever.
On Pre-Order for $0.99 until the 16th!
Click here to go to Amazon and read the inside 🙂 http://kurtherianbooks.com/gwyo
Check out Jonathan’s website at http://www.jonathan-yanez.com/
SHADES OF LIGHT – SNIPPET 2
Gather round, people!
Shades of Light – Snippet 2 is here!!!!
Flames burst forth from the farmhouse, the same one Rhona’s brother had entered just moments before. Alastar, ever the hero, had drawn his sword and gone charging in mere seconds before, leaving her to hide far away from trouble.
Clearly, that wasn’t an option. Not when he could be in danger.
She worked her way around the farmhouse, searching for a way in. A scream sounded, then the grunt of a man, and she decided it wasn’t time to be timid. She ran for the open doors Alastar had rushed through, in spite of the black smoke that billowed forth.
The sight froze her in her tracks—her brother in his white and gold armor, his white cloak smoldering at the edges, circling a man in the black and green plaid of Clan Buchan, the fire users.
A warlock.
She had studied the various clans and what magic they used, at least to the extent that the paladins had been able to chronicle it in their war against the evils of magic.
Her first thought was to jump in and help her brother, but the warlock spun, hands pushing out, and a wall of flame came at Alastar that caused him to leap back and call upon the blessings of Saint Rodrick for protection.
Watching the shield of light that formed between her brother and the wall of flames, she knew this wasn’t her fight. But when a figure caught her eye, a cowering woman in the corner, she knew she could at least help her. She darted through the smoke, staying low in a crouched run, and knelt beside the woman. Her eyes were barely open, her breathing short.
“Sera,” Rhona said, recognizing the woman from days in the market, where she and her father sold goat’s milk and cheese. “Sera, I need you to stay with me.”
Sera moaned, and her eyes rolled toward Rhona, but she managed a nod.
“Good, I’m getting you out of here.” Rhona placed Sera’s arm over her shoulders, while wrapping her own arm around Sera’s waist before heaving her up.
Her brother’s battle cry startled her and immediately turned her focus to see that his sword had been knocked from his hands. He had reached the Warlock and was engaged in hand-to-hand combat. The two were exchanging blows without magic or blessings, but their circling and maneuvering put them closer to the burning walls and directly beneath a rafter that looked like it was about to collapse.
Rhona knew she needed to hurry, so she pulled Sera with her, pushing for the back door. The woman nearly collapsed, but Rhona grunted and pushed on, supporting nearly all of her weight. Sunlight met them as they emerged from the smoke and fire, and fresh air filled her lungs.
Then, she saw Sera’s father, lying next to the tree line. She pulled Sera over to his side, then helped her to sit next to her father on the grass before turning to check his pulse. He was still alive, though unconscious.
Another shout came from inside and this time flames blew out from every window and the doorway, followed by a cry that was unmistakably Alastar.
Her own safety meant nothing if she didn’t have him.
Throwing caution to the wind, she sprinted for the doorway. As the flames pulled back, she leaped in, dress pulled up to her face to block out the smoke.
Flames were all around her brother, pushing in on him and the circle of light that was protecting him but fading by the second.
Desperately looking around, Rhona spotted her brother’s sword on the ground. She ran for it and heaved it up with both hands, but hadn’t counted on it being so heavy. Every muscle in her body strained as she tried to lift it, hoping to charge the warlock and impale him on its holy blade. It was hopeless, though, because even as she dragged it toward him, his eyes darted toward her.
A look of confusion crossed his face, fading to determination as he lifted a hand and the nearby flames moved toward her like the river after the breaking of a dam.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—only her life, and that of her brother. The sword fell from her hands, and they seemed to lift on their own, aimed at the man, and everything darkened. She wasn’t sure what was happening, except that the flames pulled back, and the warlock collapsed to his knees, eyes turning black. A long scream came from his mouth as dark tendrils of mist or shadow, she wasn’t sure what, wrapped around his limbs and throat.
And then he was falling, collapsing to the ground.
What followed was a blur. She would have sworn it was a dream, if everything in her wasn’t tearing at her, pushing pain throughout her body. Her instinct pulled her to her brother, and he to her.
They fell into each other’s arms, both on the edge of collapse.
“Wh—what happened?” he asked, eyes darting from her to the fallen warlock and back.
She stared at him, unable to answer. How could she, when she herself didn’t know what had happened?
The flames roared and then seemed to be spinning around them. Could the warlock be up and doing this? She tried to turn, to fight again, and then collapsed.
When she came to, her eyes opened to reveal dusk had settled upon the land. She was lying on a horse-drawn cart, Sera at her side, her brother riding the horse and, staggering along behind them, bound and tied to the wagon, was the warlock.
Sera saw that she was awake and brushed the hair from Rhona’s face with a gentle smile. “We made it, Rhona. Thanks to the bravery of your brother and the blessings of Saint Rodrick, we all made it.”
Rhona groaned in pain, her body hurting like hell, so she let her eyes close and sleep take her again.
Yes, thanks to her brother… and whatever the hell had come over her. She must never let him know about it. She must never let anyone know.
To find out about Justin’s other books and follow his author journey visit: http://www.justinsloanauthor.com/
Snippet 01 of Nomad Avenged!
Who’s ready for SNIPPET 01 of Nomad Avenged?!?!?
Terry winced in pain and gasped for air. His nanocytes fought to keep up with the damage done. They were losing the battle.
The chains cut into his wrists; blood dripped slowly down his arms. One shoulder was dislocated. He’d hung there too long, feet barely touching the ground, unable to support himself when he passed out.
The Forsaken looked at his prisoner, pleased that the feeding marks still shown waxy red, but that didn’t outweigh his anger. He was furious that Terry’s nanocytes had killed one of his minions.
The bite that killed.
Kirkus considered himself a genius for not attempting the first feeding on the enhanced Terry Henry Walton. That he made a minion do it.
The Forsaken had yet to ask Terry any questions. He didn’t need to. The chained anguish had broken the discipline of Terry Henry Walton’s mind. The Vampire visited again and again, explored all that the human thought about, his enhancements at Bethany Anne’s hand, his work with Akio, especially his work with Akio.
He’d seen TH’s moral compass and it made his Forsaken hair stand on end. Kirkus had never met an individual like Terry Henry Walton. A pure soul, some may call him. A person who knew Forsaken and didn’t hate them. He considered them people who deserved a chance to prove themselves.
He saw the colonel joking with the one called Joseph. A Forsaken and the human, having a laugh. Kirkus made a fist and drove it into TH’s ribs. The man grunted as his head lolled on his sweaty chest.
The colonel’s tongue felt like a dry rag stuffed in his mouth. The air didn’t come quickly enough and he stopped fighting it, letting himself slip into the darkness.
***
Char’s eyes locked on Timmons. The purple flared and without warning, her fist lashed out, shattering his eye socket and sending him sprawling. She growled, more animal than human.
“If you fucking limp dicks had done your job, Terry wouldn’t have been captured. HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU LET THAT HAPPEN?” she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth. The pack had failed her, had failed the entire community.
She viciously kicked a withering body.
“Look at this shit! He fought this fucking army by himself,” she snarled. Eight Forsaken lay dead, shredded by whip and knife. TH had not gone easily. No whining, no running. He had fought, toe-to-toe, but in the end, there had been too many. She studied the marks on the ground. At least four of them had carried Terry into their ship.
To see what’s up with Craig in the wilds of Alaska, visit:
http://www.craigmartelle.com/apps/blog/show/44532444-nomad-avenged-snippet-01
THE DARKEST NIGHT – Snippet 07 of …
UNEDITED
Michael left the ArchAngel and took off in the direction of the pirate ship. The vibrations in the night, up here in the sky, were a bit overwhelming and he was having difficulty focusing on the power source of the ship.
Since he couldn’t see it.
As he went one direction, he missed three small power sources heading in the other.
The ship drew nearer and the lights powered by their own energy flared into the clouds as they roiled around in the wind.
Michael solidified on the main deck and looked around. Like time memorial, pirates might have a bad reputation, but many could and would be excellent at their jobs.
Almost like their lives depended on it.
Seeking out minds in the night, he found one that was outside, but had hidden themselves deep in the protective leeway of the lookout area.
Michael grinned and looked up to the location of the man trying to hide from the night. This man’s one job, to protect the ship should someone unknown attack them, now a failure.
His scream of death would alert those on this ship that something was not right.
—
Mark noticed the two lights in the night on his umpteenth view looking around and grinned. He vacillated over whether he should inform Jacqueline that they had incoming or not. On the one hand, he would have the chance to learn just how well he could throw those coming to attack them over the edge by himself.
Or, he could find out if Jacqueline would throw him over the edge in her annoyance for not being a part of the party.
Prudence won.
He double-checked the distance the three attack ships were, and how careful they were working on their safe arrival and decided that going inside wasn’t going to cut it. He reached over and grabbed a small metal bar and tapped out a pre-decided message. Three taps, pause. Two taps, pause.
One tap.
Mark started checking his weapons were secure, his knives in place and his pistol locked in. He had a jacket now, not quite the length of Michael’s, but it helped hide most of his weaponry. He stood up, bracing himself as the wind whipped around him and grabbed the ladder that allowed him to jump down to the deck of the ship. With his hand on the rail, he at least didn’t worry about being flung out into the night by an unexpected gust of wind.
Then again, he wondered, what gusts were expected?
His landing noise was lost in the wind, and Jacqueline’s opening of the door to the inside was only seen due to the extra light it threw out into the night, not by the sound so much.
Well, for a human.
Mark raised an eyebrow to his friend and she laughed at him, “Are you shitting me?” She called out, looking around, “Someone is stupid enough to attack in this weather and Michael didn’t kill them?”
Jacqueline was looking to starboard, before she turned back to Mark, pointing a finger at him, “If you are shitting me, I’ll throw your skinny vampire ass off this ship! That would be no way to let down a lady.”
Mark opened his mouth but soon had two female fingers pinching his lips, Jacqueline had moved close to him, “If you say something that puts ‘lady’ and a disparaging remark that connects the two together into one sentence, the phantasmal pirates are going to have to take a back seat and wait until after the ass-kicking I give you!”
Mark heard the wind shifting around new ships in the air before she did, so he looked to his left, and raised his eyebrows. She never let go of his lips as she turned in the darkness. Seconds later, she caught the sound. Her fingers released his lips and the tiny ‘squee’ of delight at the anticipation of fighting some pirates flowed through her body.
Mark rolled his eyes.
He reached inside his coat and made sure all of the knives and the pistol were locked down. “I have the first to land, you wll take the second.”
Jacqueline’s head snapped around, “Who died and made you the boss?”
Mark smiled, “If you want to be included the next time people come to play, you won’t act like a spoiled princess making demands.”
Jacqueline’s lips pressed together. If there was one thing she had learned about Mark since their first fateful meeting with Michael, it was he could be annoyingly stubborn. She had tried overwhelming him with nudity.
That worked against her. Now, he probably could draw her naked from memory and she hadn’t even seen a nice moon of his.
Fucking prudish vampires. The hot new body he had developed since receiving Michael’s blood and energy was driving her nuts.
So, she tried to use her intelligence against him.
Fucking computer hacking prudish vampires. The bastard was well read and very intelligent. Seems that his type didn’t go out much and he tried to read all the time so he was damned smart.
Finally, she tried to dominate him like an Alpha.
Fucking passive aggressive computer hacking prudish vampires. He wasn’t being dominated, he was just biding his time to assert his “you’re not the boss of me” comments.
Which, she had to admit, were damned hot.
She needed to kill some pirates, then take a cold shower.
Pirate Ship Folly
“What the hell was that?” Billy asked, hearing a shriek that didn’t sound like it came from the wind buffeting the ship.
“Billy,” Sally David called out, “I can’t raise Tim from outside.”
“Stupid fucker is probably sleeping,” Billy responded. “Why he wants the nest duty in a storm is beyond me.” He thought about it a moment, “Tell Amanda and Arnold to go see what’s up. Amanda cause she will do it, and Arnold because she doesn’t weight more than fifteen pounds and the wind will throw her off the ship.”
There were snickers around the bridge.
—
Michael switched back to Myst when he heard a door open. He had looked around, but apparently, these ships were more air tight than he would have given them credit for.
Two people came out, a man and a woman. The man was large, the woman, in comparison, was quite small. The one thing that caused Michael to pause was they had something in their hearts he wasn’t expecting to find inside those that flew on a Pirate ship.
They cared.
In his Myst form, Michael pursed his lips, made a decision and stepped through the opening. He rematerialized and grabbed the door, yanking it from the man’s grip and slammed it shut. Locking the door from the inside, he turned around, ignoring the shouts of frustration from outside. He smiled at the first man who came around the corner, in shock that someone was on the ship that he didn’t recognize.
A man whose eyes were glowing red, and whose right hand were growing knives for nails.
Michael, pushing fear out from him to affect those throughout the ship started down the hall to the first man whose feet wouldn’t obey as his mind screamed at him to run.
“You shall be my second, tonight.” Michael, his voice, cold in the night, told the man. “Honor needs to be quenched and the fire is burning bright.
Outside, on the deck Arnold stopped beating on the door, trying to yank it open when the screaming started. He kept one hand on the handle as a lifeline, the other arm reached out to scoop Amanda into his embrace. He could feel her hot tears of anger, and now fear, soak a portion of his chest.
He might die tonight, but he would die trying to protect this fragile young woman.
Anti-Grav ship ArchAngel
“Sir,” Scopes operator Timms called over his shoulder to Captain Miles O’Banion, “Pirate ship is losing distance and changing direction.”
Miles nodded before calling back, “Understood, Timms.”
He reclined in his Captain’s chair and pressed his lips together before blowing out a sigh. Now, he had to admit half of why he had been afraid of waking the man himself.
Now, Captain Miles O’Banion was guilty of committing murder. He might not be the one who is killing all of the men and women on the pirate ship behind them, but he knew what the end result would be.
“May God have mercy on their souls,” he whispered to himself as he made the sign of the cross over his chest.
—
“If you don’t like me suggesting sexual positions,” Combs retorted to his partner on this trip over to the target ship, “maybe you shouldn’t reply in kind!” He argued as he piloted their small two-person ship towards their prize.
“Perhaps,” Juliana agreed from behind him, “but come on, there are sexual positions, then there are acrobatics and then what the fuck are you actually suggesting? That shit isn’t even remotely possible for a woman and there is absolutely no chance there could be any pleasure for her at all.”
Combs thought about the last position he had suggested as he concentrated on their approach. The banter was helping him focus on the task at hand, and ignoring the buffeting winds as he punched the trigger to land on the ship’s deck. The CLANG sounded as their metal skids connected, then locked tight with the magnetics and gravity locks.
“All ashore who are going ashore.” He called back as he made sure his weapons were locked in. He could hear Juliana doing the same. “Feel free to kill most everyone so our friends can catch up. Remember what Billy and Cholly said, we are scrapping this…”
Combs’ get ready speech was lost when knocking from the outside interrupted his speech. “What the fuck?” he shouted out, wondering if he should hit the gravs and try to get back to the other ship when metal started squeeking, then squeeling and finally both he and Juliana, shock on both of their faces as the brackets broke and the cockpit ripped off and a young man, his eyes blazing red stood outlined against the darkness. The lights from their pod illuminating him from in front, the lightening amongst the clouds illuminated him from behind.
“Oh,” he told the two stricken pirates, “you will be going ashore.” He reached down and slapped Combs’ hand, breaking his wrist when Combs tried to pull his pistol. He deftly unhooked the seat belts and grabbed Combs’ shirt and belt.
Juliana, mouth open, heart beating wildly watched as the Vampire twisted and Combs was yanked out of the chair, and she heard his screams as he flew out and over the side of the ship.
Those two red eyes turned to her, and she saw her death written plainly.
“But,” she breathed out, trying to catch her breath, “I’m a girl…”
The Vampire didn’t even smile, he merely unhooked her seatbelt and grabbed her like he had Combs. She heard him say before she was pulled from the ship and thrown over the side.
“So was my sister.”
Juliana closed her eyes, not wishing to know when the end would hit. On her way down, she had to wonder what this Vampire’s sister had done to him before she slammed into the sea, ending her life.
Back on the ship, Mark turned to see the second slip hit the deck and a young female approach it and started walking over to join her.
FROM MICHAEL >>> Oh, Jacqueline and Mark have been a BLAST to write. I have mentioned before that sometimes, characters write themselves. As I’m working to finish The Darkest Night, these two have created a very close connection.
I’m in the beginning of a large battle scene, one of at least two or three more in this book as Michael and others take on a large group of Werewolves outside of Paris, France. The fun of The Second Dark Ages books are they remind of the old buddy road flicks of decades ago.
Where two buddies set off on a trip and things happened?
Except, now there are ‘more’ buddies as some of our old friends join up, and instead of hijinks (although I imagine those can occur), we get more mayhem.
Just like the doctor ordered.
Then, there is that nasty thing called love that sneaks in.
I look forward to releasing this book within a 14 days…
Michael
(If you missed the latest “new addition” to the Kurtherian Gambit Universe – here it is!” books2read.com/Awakened )
AWAKENED – The Ascension Myth Book 01 – Snippet 03 of 03
CHAPTER 3
“Damn it,” Molly hissed. “The whole point of getting this close, Joel, was so that I didn’t have to try and hack through the XtraNET and deal with their port security!”
Molly was not happy. Not only was the signal not strong enough from the roof of the next building, but now Joel was trying to tell her that he couldn’t get into the server she needed.
Meatheads and technical considerations just do not mix.
She pushed the car into hover and came to rest just above the building. She hated being this exposed, but there was no other way. The underground parking lot was heavily controlled and she didn’t like their chances of getting out of there if Meathead tripped any of the security protocols.
“There has to be a server that has that label on it. It’s there somewhere.” Agitation was starting to show in her voice. She needed Joel to find this server or else it was game over.
“Well, if there is, I can’t find it.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice too. It had been a while since he had really had to perform. He was already impressive to his general clientele on his normal security and PI jobs.
Molly glanced furtively out across the city. Sure, the anti-radar paint gave them some cover from official channels, but all it would take is for someone in one of the nearby buildings to notice them out the window and report a suspicious looking vehicle, and they were screwed. This wasn’t going how they had planned it, when they had eventually gotten the ‘go’ for this project.
She scrambled to pull her kit bag into the passenger seat, and located her handheld holo. Since the capacity was all used up on her wristband, she’d had to go retro.
“Hang on…” It was Joel again, over the comm system. “There’s a secondary server room.”
Joel had made out that this was going to be a walk in the park. He figured that because his contact–their first client–worked for the company they were breaking into, it would go smoothly. He even had the guy’s security pass. But Molly was skeptical.
There was no way that Joel’s movement into the building—through the front door and straight to the server room—was going to go down as “normal” behavior. Some keycard protocol was going to pick it up, and she didn’t buy that this Mac Kerr would walk that route “all the frickin’ time”. It just didn’t stack.
Nevertheless, Joel had been able to walk in there with his gear and everything, and nothing had been flagged.
Yet.
Molly heard him grunting on the line, like he was trying to shift something out of the way.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Inserting the peg now….”
Moments later, the holo screen activated and started flashing as it located the peg and established contact.
“We’re in!” she announced, and got to work.
Joel silently mouthed “thank you” to the air above him. The last thing he wanted was to have lost face on his first job with this bright young thing. Since meeting with her in the bar the other day, the idea of having a partner in crime kind of gave him a renewed sense of purpose. He just needed to not mess it up this time.
Molly had already moved on to phase two of the game plan. Anyone sitting in the car would have noticed her mood change. When she hacked, there was an intensity of purpose—like her mind had left her body and the fingers on her keyboard were being controlled by a remote force.
“There’s a problem,” she said after a few moments.
Joel had been slouching against the stack, and now he straightened up.
“What is it?”
“Looks like someone knew we were coming. There is new code, different construction, like a shell around the original code that runs their pricing model.”
There was a silence.
“Can you fix it?”
“Not in the time we have. Lemme see if Oz has any better luck….”
“Oz?”
Aggghh, shit! She hadn’t told him.
“Yeah, the AI that is plugged into my wrist holo and neural cortex.”
“What the fuck?!” Joel hissed. “AI exists? And you have one wired into you?!” He realized he was raising his voice and mentally calmed himself while clenching his teeth in frustration at Molly.
The girl really had no clue what it was to function on a team.
“Why did you think I had to leave military so fast?”
“I heard it was the result of some questionable sexcapades, resulting in a 4077 condition.”
“That was the cover to get out. I never did it with an Estarian, let alone in his…you know. Gross!”
He closed his eyes for a half-second. “But you have a fucking AI in your brain. When were you going to share this with the rest of the team?” His irritation was slowly being replaced by curiosity.
“His name is Oz, and he jumped into my holo through the Ethertrak while I was sleeping. I woke up and realized I had two choices: turn him over and potentially give the military the goddamn singularity they will use to destroy the local galaxy—thus becoming the criminal that downloaded him onto my hacked holo—or run. We chose run.”
“’We? You’re talking like it’s a person.”
“Well, technically, he is. He has an awareness, and a personality that he’s developing, just like any entity.”
Molly, if I may interrupt, I’m in. And from my calculations, with your level of skill and the interface you’re using it would have taken 2,453 hours to crack through that shell.
“Thank you, Oz. I appreciate your help,” Molly responded out loud, partly for Joel’s benefit.
“You’re talking to him?” He couldn’t believe what was going on as he licked his lips. And right in the middle of an intense goddamn mission.
“Yes, just thanking him for saving me two-and -a-half-thousand hours of work.” She tapped a few keys on the holo, checking they were in the clear and still undetected.
“Okay, Oz. Let’s get that patch in, and then we can pull Joel out.”
Roger that, milady.
“Oz is downloading the patch that you wrote?”
“Yeah, he can respond much quicker to their security protocols. They have an adaptive algorithm that would take me hours to break. Oz is just slipping the data past it, though—like a gauntlet run.”
You’re comparing me to a warrior?
I guess I am.
I like that. I’m a warrior of data!
Now you sound like a big fat nerd. Molly laughed out loud.
You may not want to insult me while I’m performing such a delicate operation. If I make one wrong move and their system realizes it’s being tampered with, it will lock down the building including that secret server room Joel is in. He will be trapped, and it seems they have heavy air installed in there too.
Molly grimaced. “Joel, heads up. They have heavy air installed in case of a security breach. Have you got precautionary equipment?”
“Sure I do—in the fokking trunk,” He bitched.
FROM ELL LEIGH CLARKE >> So for the last few weeks MA has been talking about sending the manuscript of the book off to JIT.
I’ve been thinking – JIT? Joint Institute of Technology. Why would they be interested? There’s hardly any science in it. I’d actually in my head been thinking JQI Joint Quantum Institute – totally different. Though they do have pretty badass research going down there in quantum computing and teleportation. I consider applying to do a phd there just for shits and giggles.
You know what it’s like in those boring quiet weeks when there is no Doctor Who or Sherlock to look forward to for MONTHS.
Anyway – it turns out that JIT means Just In Time. And there’s a whole team of awesome typo hawks scouring the text before it’s released from the nest to fly.
I’ve been floored at how many fixes they’ve spotted.
And how they’ve coordinated their fixes and suggestions to feedback through their conductor Steve.
It’s like a symphony orchestra.
Or Santa’s grotto of fact checking, proof reading elves.
INCREDIBLE!
I just want to say a massive thank you to all these guys and gals. ❤
And then yesterday I realised: I’ve *NEVER* had this many people involved in anything I’ve written before.
Oh boy. Emotional again.
Quick make her laugh.
…
…
Ok. I’m back. So not only is there a whole team of amazeballs wordsmiths, designers and supporters behind this book, but then since the first snippet was shared on the website, there are all you guys who have been so supportive and encouraging.
I’ve loved chatting with you on the fb page. And boy does it make me laugh when you share stuff from the story. 4077s and the shit that Molly comes out with. You make me laugh so much! Thank you!!
And hey, if you’re reading this and we’re not already connected on fb, please do come say hi. Here’s the page:
https://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke/
Ok. That’s it from me for today. I’m going to go catch some Zzzzzs.
MA says he’s going to post this tomorrow morning (Wednesday), with the final snippet. And then on Thursday the whole book goes live.
AGGGgghhhhhhhhhhhh….
I’m scared. And exhausted. And I hope I can sleep tonight.
Lawn faires and pitchforks, baby. Lawn faires and pitch forks. Tomorrow work will continue on Book 2… just in case someone wants to read more after D-Day…
Ellie x
P.S. Ok I’m putting this in the ps for two reasons:
- If MA wants to take it out, he can do it without having to fix anything in the rest of the test. (minimal work).
And
2. The PS is the most read section of any letter. Statistically. And this last thing I want to say is really important.
And from the heart.
I want to say a special thank you to Michael Anderle.
He’s spent hours and hours showing me the ropes and turning me into a writer who publishes… from someone who had never published a single story before, didn’t think she could make anyone laugh, and never thought of herself as a writer.
And he didn’t have much to work with. I was someone who had never even read a fiction book since the age of 11. (True story. More on that later).
At 34 you inspired me to pick up Death Becomes Her, to learn the Kurtherian World and the Anderle voice, but within weeks you had me writing actual words.
Into a story.
Michael, you’re my Yoda. And my biggest supporter.
Thank you doesn’t begin to cover it – but that’s where I’ll start.
THANK YOU.
(You are welcome – Editor 😉 )
AWAKENED – The Ascension Myth Book 01 – Snippet 02 of …
Molly remembered her first week of basic training. Lugdon had read her the riot act for some antics in the lab. She couldn’t even remember what it was about now, she’d been in this office so many times since then for various reasons.
None of them entirely her fault.
Lugdon’s dark brow was furrowed as he flicked the screen upward, still engrossed. He was okay. He’d been kind of fatherly to her—mostly. At least until that time they were both a little drunk after a squad party a few months ago.
By her ancestors, she wished she could die right now.
Lugdon looked up at her. She couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be a glint in his eye. Hell, he knew exactly what a 4077 was. Her cheeks flushed bright red again, especially remembering their history.
“I didn’t think you’d last longer than a week. Hell, I was surprised you made it through Basic Training.” He swiped at the holo, disappearing the screen.
Molly raised one eyebrow, quizzically.
“Well…you came to us with a background in theoretical energy physics and computer science—both self-taught, I believe. You could have done anything. It was beyond me why you were here.”
He paused.
“I figured all your capers were because you were bored.”
His voice softened. “You’re one hell of a lady…” His voice drifted off, perhaps remembering something she had been too drunk to recall.
He suddenly looked flustered and gruffly cleared his throat.
“Always thought you were wasted in an R&D position. Anyway, your discharge is approved.”
“Thank you, sir,” Molly responded, with a short sigh of relief.
“I’d say it was a pleasure, but you were a real pain in my ass, Flight Sergeant.” He smiled warmly and stood up. She did the same, and saluted.
As he returned her salute, a wave of sadness hit her. She knew she didn’t belong here, but this was a big change, and all so fast.
“Don’t let me see you in here again,” he teased, dismissing her. He’d said that to her countless times over her stay here. This time, he seemed to be getting his wish.
Crotch!!
Fuck you and my fucking arsewank of a fucking life!!!!
Wishing the ground would just get on with it and swallow her up, Molly ended her salute and reached down to scratch her crotch again while fighting to maintain eye contact with her former supervisor. Her cheeks were now deep purple and her heart was in her mouth. She was sick with embarrassment.
He was buying it. He smiled a toothy, amused grin, shaking his head, as she turned awkwardly and headed to the door.
Unable to look him in the eye again, she stepped out and closed the door with her back still to him. She leaned against the doorframe.
That went well.
I’m glad you’re amused, you fuckwit of a glorified subroutine she huffed as she started down the hall.
Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter
Remind me why we’re here again.
Remind you? I never told you.
I’m using your syntax to smooth our integration.
Oh, really?
I detect sarcasm.
Yeah, and I never had to utter a word out loud.
Neural connections, baby. I feel you.
Don’t be a wanker.
The AI was silent.
That reminds me…you don’t have a name.
You mean a designation? Sure I do. I am Project Ozimandaus 0922.
That’s not a name.
Yes it is. That’s what your colleagues, Sue and Dickwad-Charles, called me.
Yeah, but that’s not a name. Not like “Sue” or “Charles,” or “Molly”. They were referring to the project. Not you. Plus, it’s a fucking mouthful to say, and no way I’m going to remember that.
I’m not a Sarkian of any variety, and therefore I don’t require a Sarkian designation.
But you are sentient, and you deserve a name.
Even though I hijacked your holo?
AND neural cortex.
Yes. Even though I hijacked your holo and neural cortex?
Yes, even though. Have you got any ideas about what you’d like me to call you?
Baby? Sexy? Hot stuff? Bad boy???
What the fuck?
Molly scrambled in the recesses of her mind trying to recall why he might know those words. They sounded familiar. Shit, they were how she would refer to her crushes. How would he have access to that kind of data?
All right, you arseburger, what gives? What makes you say those things?
I’m just kidding around. To be honest, I haven’t thought about it. What would be an appropriate designation for something like myself? Is there a nomenclature that is relevant here? Or a social convention?
Hmm… not really. I guess my preference would be to give you something easy for me to say, and to communicate with others when the time comes to introduce you to people. Also, I like the idea of using your project designation in a name
Molly’s eye scanned the crowded bar looking for inspiration. Nothing at all jumped out at her.
What about “Oz”?
Oz?
It’s short for Ozimandaus–which is actually a cool name too. Maybe that can be your Sunday name.
Sunday name?
Yeah, like your full name for formal occasions.
Molly mulled it over, imagining what Oz the AI might even look like. For a moment, she pictured the ridiculous Holly on that ancient show she used to watch as a kid…what was it called? Red Dwarf? Yes. Red Dwarf—with the folks who had the hilariously melodic accents. Thank goodness Grandpa had downloaded all those cultural pods before he and Nana had left the QBBS Meredith Reynolds all those years ago.
Okay. I like it. “Oz” it is, then.
Great. So, Oz, the reason we are here is because we need to make money. And fast.
What about that trust you have set up? That could keep us going for a century or more.
How do you know about that?
I did a search on you. Once I we were off base and I was hooked up to the XtraNET, I just scanned for anything that had your DNA or retinal print attached to it. Turns out it’s the optimum way to find all the recorded information on someone, no matter what their species.
You’ve been looking me up? And not just me by the sounds of it!
I think it’s logical for me to know all parameters of operation—including who I’m associating with.
“Associating with”? You jumped into my fucking holo!
Your sentiment is noted.
Anyway. That trust is private and all sorts of alarms go off if I go near it. I don’t want to touch it. Not yet. We need to find another way to make money independently.
Acknowledged. The trust is off limits.
Yes. Off. The. Record. Like I said, it’s private. I don’t want anyone else knowing about it. Okay?
Okay.
So, I have a serious question. How come you’ve not come up with a plan to tap into the Central Systems’ trade market, and just syphon funds from there? I mean, you’re an AI with frickin’ uber amounts of intelligence. It wouldn’t be hard to bypass some security and take a little from a lot of trades—no one would even miss it.
Ah, but Molly Bates…that would be unethical. And you’ve forbidden me from doing anything unethical. EVER.
What? What are you talking about? I never said that.
Sure you did. When I was going to cyber-blackmail that colonel back at the base, you went off on a moral trip making me swear to never do anything like that.
That was for them. Not for me. I never meant you were supposed to be all moral and shit when it came to what we needed to do.
I don’t understand the differentiation. Please clarify.
Molly recognized the man who had just walked in the door and who was now looking around the tables. She stuck her hand in the air, waved vigorously and slid out of the booth to stand up.
Joel is here, asswipe, she grated out mentally. This conversation isn’t over.
Former Captain Joel Dunham wandered over to the table. He was buff and large. In fact, much larger than Molly remembered. It had been a few years though, and her memory for people things wasn’t great.
Joel smiled at her.
“Long time, stranger!” she grinned at him as he looked her up and down.
“Hello, Geek-brain!” he said, wrapping his bear-like arms around her. He squeezed her tight. A little too tight.
Molly tapped his back, signaling her surrender.
It was a familiar feeling to her. They’d often trained in the base gym in hand-to-hand combat. Since they’d both had extensive prior training in martial arts, their normal style would often lapse back in to some bastardized version of the ancient human arts of Jujitsu or Karate.
Many times other squad members would gather to watch them train and to speculate on who would have their ass handed to them. It was never a foregone conclusion, despite her slight frame and geeky awkwardness.
“Sorry!” he said, realizing that his enthusiasm had gotten the better of him. “I forget how delicate you girlies are.”
Molly suspected there was something loaded in that statement, along the lines of him not having much contact with women these days. She didn’t have the inclination to ask, though.
Joel’s psychodramas with women were his own.
“There’s something different about you though…” He held her out by the shoulders, looking her up and down again.
“I’ve lost weight?” She looked hopefully up at him.
He shook his head. “Something else.” He paused. The looked at her face. “Didn’t you used to be a brunette?”
Molly’s cheeks slowly revealed her embarrassment. “Yeah. One of my genetic experiments is taking longer to wear off than I had anticipated.”
Joel howled with laughter while pointing at her hair. “How much longer?” he asked catching his breath.
“Two years, three months and nineteen days. It was meant to self-correct in three months, but, well…”
“You miscalculated?”
“No, tequila,” she admitted.
“You were drinking?”
“No, I used tequila as the carrier fluid.” She eyed her friend in annoyance, “I was impatient and it was handy.”
Joel was still snickering, and shook his head at her. “Same ol’ Molly, I see.” She rolled her eyes…both at herself and the familiarity Joel had with her sagas
She pushed a chair out for him, and sat herself down.
“Anyway, good to see you, fuckwit. I ordered you a beer.” The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Molly was quick to get her lips around hers. “You still drink this stuff, right?””
“’Of course, and thank you. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.
She played with her bottle before looking at him, “I’ve left the military, and I need a job.”
She didn’t say more, and allowed Joel to absorb it. He lowered his eyes to his bottle.
“A job, you say? Genius-girl Molly Bates has come to me for a job?” He looked back up at her, clearly amused at the irony. “You know, all the time you were assigned to our detail, there never once was a problem that you couldn’t solve. The boys would swear you were a witch, or a freak, or something. I just told them you were an evil genius. They called you ‘devil-woman’ behind your back, did you know that?”
“I knew,” she smiled, completely uninterested in what some meatheads thought of her.
Joel continued, “And yet you’d keep going back to the research core.” He asked her a question that he had wondered from time to time, “Why did you never join an ops team?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Guess I just felt more comfortable not having to make life and death decisions all the time.” She looked around before returning back at her beer, “I’ve made a few mistakes in my life already. I found out that sometimes I act before I think, and sometimes even when I think, I don’t always think like normal people.”
Inside, she finished the statement she was too scared to admit, because I’m broken.
Joel waited a moment before asking. “And that’s why you want a job now? So you don’t have to put all that talent to good use?” Joel took a sip of his beer. Man, it tasted good no matter what time of day it was.
Her grin spread across her face, looking a little mischievous. “Oh, no, I’m happy to put my immense reservoirs of talent to good use. I just want you to help direct it for me at the moment!”
Joel’s squaddies often found her arrogant, but Joel knew better. He understood her weird humor, even though he didn’t get it half the time. He put it down to the whacked-out ancient shows she would watch. Fokk knows where she got those datastreams from, though. One of the engineers had once told him they were from a time long forgotten in the Sark System.
“So, a job, for your talents…that pays beer-money,” he pointed to the drink that she’d already almost drained. He rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply.
What he couldn’t do with her talents!
“And it has to be, uh, legal,” she added, remembering that at some point she also needed to find a way of reprogramming Oz to make sure she wouldn’t be too restricted by his newfound morality.
Joel’s eyes opened wide. “Legal? What do you think I am? I’m an upstanding Sarkian, I’ll have you know!” His mock indignation made them both giggle.
Molly knew he was mostly straight-laced when it came to the jobs he would take. But there was no denying that the circumstances under which he had left the service had left a few people wondering.
Joel pursed his lips. “I have some ideas. A friend came to me the other day about something he noticed that was going down in his company: price-fixing on a type of painkiller that thousands of Oggs and Estarians need. Said there were whispers of hiking the prices to three times their market value, just because they can. He wanted a way to stop it without involving official channels or losing his job.”
He continued, waving off the waitress asking him if he wanted another beer. “I didn’t know how to fix it; I don’t have the tech skills to tackle something like that. And taking on a big corporation? Who’s going to listen to me? Not the police, that’s for sure. But now,” he glanced at her, “now you’re here. And I wonder if we can’t take this job and do some good things for these folks?”
Molly used her sultry voice, and her eyes glinted with glee. “Sounds like my cup of tea. Tell me, will there will be hacking?”
Joel had worked with her long enough to know that hacking turned her on. Shit, she is one weird chick…. “Oh, there will be hacking, baby. There will be lots and lots of hacking.”
As he smiled, his awareness seemed to drift off. When he refocused, he dropped his eyes to his beer. “You know, I never did apologize for the thing with Candy.”
Molly did a doubletake, trying to work out what he was talking about.
He lifted up his bottle to point to her, “You remember. The girl you said had several guys in the squad in tow.” He took a sip. Molly nodded, recalling the bust-up. “I just wanted to say, I appreciated you looking out for me. I mean, I know it was a big thing then and we didn’t exactly part as close as we had been. But. I’m sorry I was a jackass about it.”
Had Molly been drinking at that exact moment she may have choked. “Well, er, That’s great. I mean, yes, I was. I just didn’t want her to make a fool out of you.” She hesitated. “While we’re on the subject. I have something to apologize for too.” She noticed that Joel had looked up.
“You remember that club we went to not long after that?”
“Yeah, the gay bar where you got called away for some lab crisis?” Joel recollected the night.
Molly looked at him, hoping that she wouldn’t have to say it.
“There was no crisis, was there?” Joel figured out. “And you knew it was a gay bar?”
Molly kept her face straight. “and I paid Hose, my friend on the door, to encourage the guys to, erm, keep you company.”
Joel’s face dropped.
“You mean…”
“Yeah. They didn’t find you that magnetic. They were having you on.”
He closed his eyes in a grimace. “You are a cold-hearted bitch!” He groaned.
“Now, now, you just tried to make good about Crystal.”
“Candy.”
“Whatever.”
“I genuinely tried to get out of there without letting anyone feel rejected. I fretted about that for days! I even wondered if…” He stopped himself, realizing there was some information he didn’t want to share with Molly.
They looked at each other, and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Joel finally admitted. “One of them told me I should go into modeling.”
“Yeah, model airplanes maybe!” Molly retorted.
The two laughed. Just like they had done back in the day, before Candy had gotten between them.
He drained his glass, dropped some credits onto the table for the drinks, and stood up.
“Lemme talk to my contact and see what we can set up in terms of this job. I’d say ‘stay sober,’ but stay by your phone, at least. I’ll get back to you soon.”
And with that he headed out of the bar.
Molly watched his broad shoulders and buff arms leave through the front door, then signaled to the waitress for another beer. The drink was helping her process the enormity of the day, she told herself.
And the residual shit from having to deal with being ushered out of the service due to a 4077.
FROM ELL’s Facebook Page >>> (Here: http://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke/)
AUTHOR DIARY
My eyeballs are so tired i think they’re disappearing into my brain. For some untold reason I was spontaneously awake at 5am. Yep you read that. AM. I’m normally lucky to see 11am.
But as it turned out – it worked out well… given that MA gave me a shit tonne of homework to do in the form of author notes, and stuff and things not 20 minutes later.
Plus I tried to get some words to the lovely Jen. Jen is awesome. she puts in punctuation and translates my english into american. she rocks. 
but alas, with eyeballs melting, i didn’t get nearly as much done as i would have liked.
I also think i’m kinda overwhelmed: emotionally. And it’s coz of you! I never expected such an outpouring of support from MA’s TKG fans. You guys are da frikkin bombdigity. I’m still trying to come to terms with:
a. how much fun you are. (Seriously – you guys are hilarious… I may be hitting you up for material very soon!!!!)
b. how you can laugh at the random shit that spills from my brain onto the page. #blessed
c. how frikkin awesomely supportive you are. (despite the inference of lawn faries and pitch forks that will come after me if i don’t write fast enough. If that gives me nightmares…)
anyway – i wanted to say a HUMOUNGOUS Mega-tonne sized THANK YOU. 
ah man, i’m tearing up. It’s been an emotional day, and i’ve probably over-caffeinated. sigh.
Again. Thank you!
More snippets and badassery to follow in the am.
Ellie x
ps. that was a metric, UK tonne of “thank you”. It’s better than an American one, and the maths is easier when you stick with metric units.
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