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
Forever Defend Wallpaper
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Forever Defend Snippet 02 of …
UNEDITED
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Yollin System
The main meeting room, also called the “throne room” when Bethany Anne wasn’t around, was filling with dignitaries from three different alien groups.
The Ixtalis had come back. After their first attempts had gone fantastically wrong—using spy technologies to capture information about the humans and/or trying to get them to trade for their gems—they had sent a second group.
The second group had never even made it onto the Meredith Reynolds. They had held one video meeting during which the Ixtali Legate had demanded that Bethany Anne engage in trade with them. Bethany Anne had simply looked at the Legate on the screen, then turned and spoken to someone off-screen. “Tell ArchAngel I wish her to remove a ship from my presence.”
The Ixtali Legate’s ship had made it back through the commercial gate damned quickly when the Leviathan-class superdreadnought had started moving in its direction.
The Yollins waiting in the third ring to go through the gate had snickered as the Ixtalis negotiated with a freighter captain to exchange places in the queue with them to facilitate their departure.
This third time, the Ixtalis had sent a bigger delegation, complete with several high-ranking officers. Surprisingly, they had asked politely for a chance to speak with Bethany Anne. No trade required, no technological efforts to subvert anything.
No one on the Meredith Reynolds had believed them, but so far the Ixtalis had acted in good faith.
Her first meeting with them would be held this morning.
Her second meeting of the day was with a group of tall blue bi-pedal beings that reminded her of light blue basketball players. Well, ones with snub noses, anyway.
Her final meeting looked to be the most interesting. This group, the Yaree, was an alien version of Earth Gypsies who searched the stars. The nicest thing you could call them were archeologists. The worst? Possibly grave robbers.
Either way, this delegation supposedly wanted to pay tribute to the new Yollin Royalty. Bethany Anne had a bet on the side with TOM over what they really wanted. ADAM was holding the money, and would decide who had won the bet.
—
The large Yaree ship, a sphere with a large pyramidal-looking structure jutting from the back, held off from the QBBS Meredith Reynolds at the coordinates provided by the humans. Inside, Delegate Tomthum reached up to his right eyestalk and scratched it halfway down. He had three eyestalks, all of them able to turn in different directions. Presently, he was looking at the screens ahead of them.
“Do not,” he told the other three on the bridge with him, “move us from this location.”
The shallow eyestalk-bobs he received from the Captain and crew provided the Delegate with comfort. This was the opportunity his people had awaited for generations. Most aliens did not know the true history of the Yaree. Considered nothing more than robbers in better quality space ships, they were scorned and reviled in bars all over the Systems.
No one had been tasked with sharing the story outside their own people for over two generations.
This small group had been tagged at the last Festival of Assembly to seek out a meeting with the leader or leaders of the people who had taken out the rumored Kurtherian Leader of the Yollin people.
They were directed to divulge the true story to this alien Empress.
Or kill her to keep the truth hidden until another race might show themselves to be trustworthy.
City of Bouk, Planet Straiphus, Straiphus System
The bar wasn’t dingy, not as bars in Bouk went. The large Yollin ex-mercenary wiped down his drinking establishment’s tables and kicked over one of the few couches that seated the four-legged Yollin elite who would occasionally come into the bar. Many of his patrons enjoyed sitting on the long couch. If it hadn’t been such an expensive proposition and a waste of good floor space, R’yhek would have just purchased couches and replaced all his normal chairs with the more expensive furniture.
That would have shown he didn’t have an issue with the new rules: elite seating for everyone! He stood and reached back to shove his carapace into place. The damned thing had been blasted out of position in a different life, and it would occasionally slip when he bent over to clean.
By Yoll, it hurt when it did that.
He rubbed his mandibles in thought and eyed the space. He rarely—if ever—was full-up in here. Maybe if he took out a third of his tables to give him extra floor space he could upgrade all the chairs?
The door to his bar opened, and he looked over to see who was entering this early in the afternoon. Usually it was someone who had pulled a double shift and was just getting off work.
He eyes widened in surprise as he had to look down, and then down some more, to see who had entered.
It seemed tiny.
And it was human.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Yollin System
Bethany Anne looked at John, who was blocking the exit from her rooms. “You have GOT to be shitting me!” she fumed, trying her best to shoot lasers at him from her eyes.
TOM chose that moment to pay attention to what she was doing.
Shooting lasers from your eyes is not going to work
Why the hell not? I can throw fire-fucking-balls!
You have also figured out eighteen other neat tricks. But attenuating light at the intensity of a laser isn’t going to do your eyeballs any good. You will spend all your time in pain while you heal them.
Bethany Anne huffed. You’re a damned party-pooper.
“Nope,” John returned simply. He held out the large case with one arm. She knew it was heavy as shit, and she considered standing there until he either had to use two hands or let it drop.
Then she could make a break for it and run around him on the right, bouncing off the wall to get through the door. Or she could just walk through the Etheric and bypass him. But that wasn’t how these games were played.
“You can stay there,” John told her, “and make me hold this all afternoon.” He smirked when her eyes told him he had guessed her thoughts. “But let me inform you that this isn’t very heavy, and I recently had Jean add a new feature to my armor.”
Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow and bent at the waist to peer under his outstretched arm. “Sonofabitch,” she murmured. She took a step forward and reached out to feel along his side and underarm before confirming with the man staring down at her, “These arms lock?”
He nodded.
She looked at the geometric designs in the armor. “What is this fucking design?” She traced it with her index finger to figure it out. The plates linked, and yet each seemed to slide beneath the next.
“It’s something TOM came up with.” She gazed back up at John, who winked as he told her, “It involved lots and LOTS of math. I zoned out.”
FROM MICHAEL >>> Wow, jet lag coming back this direction (From Europe) is easier to deal with. Yes, I know that is what everyone says, but the experience does fit the commentary.
Which is nice, because it sucked great big Yollin balls going TO Europe. I like to wake up early (7-8AM) and getting some work done, I was learning how to try to get work done at 1-3AM in the morning over there.
GAH!
Now, I’m getting work done at 6 AM in the morning and life seems to be coming back to normal. Except for that wakeup and getup at 5AM in the morning.
I’m not usually THAT damned crazy. It’s ok, this will pass 😉
My eyes were closing when I wrote the FB post to put up the first snippet last night at something like 10:30 PM… It was weird.
On to writing the final chapters and hopefully being words complete by tonight.
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael
Forever Defend Snippet 01 of …
UNEDITED
Yollin System, Three Years After Straiphus Rebellion
They say that history is written by the victors, and they are right. The reason is completely logical. Those who lost aren’t around to write anything.
The dead can’t write from beyond the grave.
The latest and most impressive ship built in Yollin’s new military shipyards slowly and smoothly slid from its moorings as the hundreds watching from nearby ships raised their hands in salute.
The Empress stared in silence as the massive new ship glided into place next to her official Royal In-system Transport Pod. Doors opened to allow the Empress’ conveyance to enter the new ship’s cavernous docking bay.
It wasn’t long before the passengers from the Transport Pod disembarked and made their way to the bridge, which was located in the center of the massive vessel. Bethany Anne stopped outside the bridge to look at the six-foot-wide dark gray stone monument that had so many names chiseled into it. She reached over and rubbed her hand across a few. Turning, she wiped a tear from her cheek and took the last few steps to the bridge. The doors opened automatically for her.
She nodded to those who had gathered to await her arrival: the head of the Yollin shipyard, the team who had worked to make this ship usable by both humans and Yollins, and the crew who had developed the massive electronic infrastructure necessary to house the new Intelligence.
She walked straight to the Captain’s Chair and sat down. The Shipyard Master looked at the Minister of Defense, who winked back at him.
“This is Empress Bethany Anne of the Etheric Empire. Show yourself,” she commanded.
A face which was a replica of Bethany Anne’s slowly brightened into view on the front screens, her eyes flaring red. Some on the bridge were shocked to see the face of the Empress on the screens.
Their Empress, however, smiled in satisfaction. “Hello, ArchAngel. It’s damned good to have you back.”
The face on the screen appeared to look around the room at everyone standing on her bridge, then directed her gaze to the woman seated in the Captain’s Chair and smiled.
“Hello, Mother.”
There was a second when no one even breathed, as the AI continued, “This is the, Leviathan-class Superdreadnought ArchAngel II. I have been commanded to protect the Etheric Empire by Empress Bethany Anne. The Weapons Lockdown Protocols on this ship have not yet been implemented. Do you order me to enact lockdown protocols, Mother?”
“No, I do not,” Bethany Anne replied.
“Lockdown protocols are not activated. Leviathan-class Superdreadnought ArchAngel II is now fully operational and will fight all who attack the Etheric Empire until victorious…or destroyed.”
Bethany Anne smiled, her eyes red in memory of those whose names graced the stone outside the bridge. “Good. It’s time you kicked some more ass, ArchAngel.”
It had been ten years since that event, and the Etheric Empire had grown in influence, power and prestige. Unfortunately, what they hadn’t grown in was knowledge of where Kurtherians might be hiding.
In the intervening time, those who were aware of the rumors of the human’s Empress discounted them. While she was very commanding in person, most didn’t believe the stories the humans told in the bars, cities and outer places.
Or the few videos she still permitted to float around.
That was about to change.
CHAPTER ONE
Pirate Ship F’zeer
The vessel on his screen was neither sleek nor svelte. In fact, if you looked closely at it, you might have called it a large bathtub in space.
It was ugly, but it wasn’t small. The potential value of its contents was significant enough that even a small piece of them would be worth a couple weeks of gluttony on one of the pirate worlds.
Or on some of the seedier space stations that existed in most systems.
The captain of the pirate ship F’zeer stayed the course as he watched the passive viewing instrumentation’s data. For the last five years, those damned humans had made his job more and more difficult in the outer reaches of the Eubos, Straiphus and Gorn Systems. First he had been forced to give up his minor slave-trading efforts in Eubos, then black-marketeering had largely become unprofitable in Straiphus, and now the rumor was that just a bit over thirty days ago there had been a set of news torps shot into the Gorn System warning that the Etheric Empress’ Rangers would be extending their damned reach into that locality.
For the good of all citizens.
Well, Brell thought, it wasn’t for the good of his clan at all. So apparently the Etheric Empire didn’t consider his kind citizens. Which was fine.
He didn’t want to be a part of their special clique anyway.
“Captain?” First Officer Wig turned to look at him from his seat a step lower on the bridge. “Permission to engage?”
Brell hadn’t found any ships following the massive commercial vessel, and he had tried. His ship had placed large emitters on the other side of the trajectory the ship was expected to fly. If there had been a cloaked vessel lying in wait, they would have known about it.
“Go,” he commanded finally, and reached for his log book. They might have been pirates, but that didn’t mean they ran a loose ship.
If you weren’t a good businessman, being a pirate could be an excellent way to lose your life.
Commercial Transport K’Leen II out of Yollin Territory, heading toward Gorn Station 2215
“Captain, we just got hit by active sensor!” Radar Operator D’ber yelled.
“Dammit.” Captain M’rin clicked his mandibles and locked his four legs to his couch. “I had hoped the memos would do the trick.”
“That is because you just lost a hundred credits to me,” the Captain’s steward commented as he placed a drink and a stim pill next to the Captain.
Captain M’rin turned to look at his steward, who had a small gleam in his eye. “Well, it might be that, or it might be those idiots.” He pointed toward the main screen on the bridge, which was now plotting the location of the suspected pirate vessel. “Assholes might just blow some holes in us instead of boarding.”
Steward A’nick sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, a completely human movement. “We all have a time to die, Captain.”
“Well,” M’rin turned toward the screen as he waited for the next step in this dance, “if it is all the same to you, I don’t intend to do that anytime soon.”
A’nick nodded. “I doubt our passengers wish to perish either.”
Captain M’rin punched a button. “This is the Captain speaking. We have a possible pirate heading in our direction. All secondary personnel, go to your safety zones and remain there until we sound the all-clear or call you for support services. Please be aware that decompression might occur. Take all necessary precautions.”
He clicked off the call button and blew out a breath of air. “Ok, patch me into Section Two-Two-One.”
Section Two-Two-One, Mid-Spine, Commercial Transport K’Leen II
Ryu held his hands straight out, palms down. His face was a study in composure, eyes unblinking. If you didn’t’ know any better, you might think him a 3D-printed statue.
The set of hands beneath his barely flinched, but the change was enough for him to pull on the Etheric and move his hands out of the way. The female’s hands sliced through the air where his had been a microsecond before.
“DAMMIT!” Tabitha hissed as she missed Ryu’s hands. She had decided that he would use a straight-back exit strategy for this game of slaps, but the little bastard had pulled his hands in two separate directions.
“That is officially seven misses in a row, Kemosabe,” the Japanese man told the Hispanic woman. “You now owe me seventy pushups.”
“Gott Verdammt!” Tabitha eyed him. While she technically outranked him, he was still one of her two mentors and counselors. She had learned a lot in the last few years, but she would never catch up to the knowledge Ryu had acquired in the hundreds of years he been alive.
“Double or nothing?” she asked, smiling at Ryu in an attempt to sell it better.
He raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“Double-dammit!” Tabitha groaned as she dropped to the floor. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”
“You need the exercise anyway, Tabitha,” Ryu consoled her. “Why is it that doing the exercises is a problem?”
“It’s exercise,” she grumped. “That’s all I should have to say. Hell, it’s not chocolate or sex, so why would you even ask?”
The speaker came on. “This is the Captain speaking. We have acquired suspected pirate activity. What is your command, Ranger Tabitha?”
Tabitha spoke up. “Mind your P’s and Q’s, Captain M’rin, and tell me where the fucking exit on this ship is. Or at least where they are going to come aboard.”
Pirate Ship F’zeer
Captain Brell nodded to his communications specialist. “Put me on tight-beam to the K’Leen.”
Brell was hoping that he… Yes! As he was waiting for the communication video link to connect and steady, he heard that the captain of the other ship was a male Yollin. He wondered if he could get the captain to defect from the Etheric Empire and bring his ship along for the ride. “This is Captain Brell of the F’zeer. Who am I addressing?”
The video didn’t show. “This is the captain of the K’Leen out of the Yollin System, part of the Etheric Empire. To what do I owe this honor?”
Captain Brell released the transmit button so his voice wouldn’t travel. “Honor?” He looked around the bridge and spotted the chuckles he had anticipated. He pushed the button to talk. “K’Leen,” he started, leaning into the mic, “you will slow down, and we will board your ship. We are going to review your manifests and decide on the most valuable tribute to take for allowing you to continue on your way.”
Brell exhaled dramatically. “And unfortunately, Captain, you and your command staff will be offered the opportunity to join us here on the F’zeer as our short-term guests. And by guests, I mean slaves. Now, if you don’t like this choice, I would like to offer you the chance to join our Navy. With such a handsome ship as the K’Leen, you and your command staff would be celebrated upon your arrival.”
Brell muted the mic. “Of course,” Brell continued, winking to his First Officer. “Everyone else on the ship will be either sold into slavery or spaced. Probably half of his command staff will also be sold or spaced.” Brell shrugged his shoulders. “But what he doesn’t know probably won’t affect this next decision, anyway.”
The K’Leen’s captain’s voice came back over the speaker, his annoyance evident. “F’zeer, you can kiss my Yollin behind. There is no way I will give up my ship to your useless Skaine asses.”
Brell punched the button. “Why are you suggesting we are Skaine, Captain?” He released the button and continued talking just to his bridge crew, “Not that he is wrong. I’m just curious.”
The answer didn’t make him any happier. “Because,” the K’Leen’s Captain said, “the Etheric Empire has scan data on many of the Skaine ships, and we have a 98.7% match to your ship, real name Kurket. This information has already been sent to our home office, and from there it will be sent into Central Defense Command.”
Section Two-Two-One, Mid-Spine, Commercial Transport K’Leen II
“Gott Verdammt!” Tabitha hissed. “He’s going to fuck up my opportunity here.”
Ryu shook his head. “The goal, Kemosabe, is to protect the transport, the assets, and reduce piracy. Not to kill every Skaine in existence.”
Tabitha looked over at her Tonto. “Well, those might be the written commands, but I received a memo.”
“Yes?” Ryu looked sideways at his boss. Memos had become digital voodoo with Tabitha. The more outrageous they were, the more believable it was that they were real. How she alone received them in foreign systems so she could point to them when she needed to, he wasn’t sure.
Ryu and Hirotoshi had tried questioning Achronyx, only to have him tell them he didn’t have the information they sought.
Both knew Tabitha had enough programming prowess to accomplish such sneakiness as the memos, but had figured she would have engaged Achronyx’s assistance in any such endeavor.
So far, they had gotten nowhere.
“Yes, the memo stated that the Skaine would be dealt with ‘in a manner commensurate with their previous behavior.’”
FROM MICHAEL>>> <Author wipes forehead> …. Ok, I have to admit that I was SWEATING (not only literally, but figuratively as well) with trying to hit end of this month or very beginning of July with this book release.
Why?
Well, I released my last solo book (The Darkest Night – The Second Dark Ages (Michael’s Return) on May 24th and my goal was to try and hit the end of June, one (ish) months later. But, in the middle of all of this was our son’s graduations (Jacob and Joey) from High School, all of the family and parties that entails, PLUS a long 19 day vacation trip to Europe in the middle of everything plus three additional collaboration releases, Audio books…
You know, the normal stuff.
Add in that I got sick for about 8-10 days during the trip and it has been challenging (what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, right?)
Well, I’m happy to say I have over 62,000 words in editing, and only 2 chapters to finish (I hope to finish words complete tomorrow.)
I’ve got two last bang bang, pew pew …kill, kill, kill and kill some more scenes to write and then we are wrapping it up for Final Editing / BETA pass and JIT pass before release to everyone here.
I hope you enjoy the latest adventures of Empress Bethany Anne… Or better known to those at the end of the book – The Queen Bitch.
Michael
Nomad’s Force – Snippet 1
Nomad’s Force
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 9
SNIPPET 1
UNEDITED
By Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle
Japan
Kimber and Kaeden made short work of the obstacle course set up outside the command center. Akio hadn’t allowed them to be idle during their recovery and acclimation time. He made them rebuild the course, tripling the height and length of the obstacles. Ramses was still re-learning how to walk before trying to run.
Akio refused to let anyone sit out, so Cory had trained every day, just like Kim and Kae. Her nanocytes were not fully up to the challenge like those of her siblings, but she was able to perform far better than even the most capable pure human.
They saw the pod descending at the same time.
Kim, Kae, and Cory’s initial concern that it was an attack evaporated once they saw Akio strolling to the landing area to meet it. The three ran after him, acting very much like children as they pulled each other back in order to be first as they expected to see their parents.
When the ramp descended, they’d put on their emotionless faces to stand in a line as if they had been there all along. Akio looked at them for a few moments, while they tried not to smirk.
Inside the pod, Terry and Char carried their grandchildren, the two-year-old William and the five-year-old Mary Ellen.
Auburn spotted his wife and ran. They’d been apart for more than a year, as had Kaeden and Marcie. She bolted from the pod as if racing Auburn. Terry and Char waited for Felicity to find her way into the sunshine, joining her outside as the children reconnected. Cory and Akio approached, bowing together.
Then Cory rushed forward to wrap an arm around each of her parents, giving nose kisses to her niece and nephew.
“Akio-sama,” Terry started, unable to bow because of Cory and the toddler in his arms. “I want to thank you in person for taking such good care of my family.”
“It is what I would do for anyone, Terry-san, although I am especially pleased with the results. Kaeden is eight inches taller and Kimber is six. It took them some time to get used to their new bodies,” Akio replied, feeling guilty over the amount of time the process had taken, no matter how many times Terry told him that it was okay.
A normal conversion with a fully functioning pod doc would usually take days, but Akio’s system wasn’t running optimally and the changes in the people were extreme. With both of those factors, days became months.
Ramses finally joined the group. He walked stiffly, stopping and stretching often during the short trip. He’d only been out of the pod two weeks, and his new muscles needed more time stretching and flexing.
Cory put William down who immediately ran to his father. To the children, their father had always been tall, so they didn’t see the difference. Marcie used to look Kae in the eye, now, she had to tip her head backward.
Kae grinned ear to ear, then picked his wife up and swung her around in a circle which knocked both the kids down. They started to cry, but their parents were quick to the rescue.
Akio motioned for the group to make their way to the house, where he would welcome them in a more traditional Japanese manner. Terry let the others continue toward a waiting Yuko. Terry watched the happy reunion. They’d been apart for far too long, but they’d make up that time and then some
When the others had gone, Terry faced Akio, both men wearing serious expressions. “He was right there, Akio-sama. We saw Mister Smith, but couldn’t get close enough to do anything about it. Have you heard or seen anything since?”
“Nothing, Terry-san. He has disappeared and we’ve seen and heard nothing. You have won the battle,” Akio assured the colonel.
“But we haven’t won the war. I think we have a long ways to go. I’d like to spread the FDG around the globe, put them in strategic well-populated locations to keep an eye on things. Watch for people who go missing. Watch for the influence of the Forsaken. They just can’t help themselves when they’re around humans. They want to take over, build their legions of minions. I need your help in transporting our people around. Is there any way we can add a couple pods to our stable?” Terry asked, bowing humbly as he made his request.
Learn more about Craig Martelle’s books and his life in Alaska at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Stories
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Story Wednesday!
Teaching Gene to Fight
In China, Gene almost died after a fight with a Weretiger. Terry was determined to see that never happened again.
Since then, Terry spent a great deal of time turning the wrestler into a fighter, helping him understand how best to use his strengths while limiting his weaknesses.
“As big as that melon is, you’d think there’d be God-damned brain in there!” Terry yelled, spit flying from his face. Gene growled and snarled, but didn’t approach.
In Werebear form, he circled his opponent, the much smaller human, then he charged.
Terry dodged and swung a small club with metal spikes to replicate the claws of a Weretiger. Terry drove the spikes into Gene’s shoulder and raked the flesh unmercifully. Gene turned and swept a massive paw through the space where Terry Henry had been.
Terry danced out of the Werebear’s reach. Gene attacked again, pulling up short, and beginning a dance of his own. Standing on his two back feet, he weaved and bounced.
Gene worked his way back and forth until Terry was cornered. Then the Werebear attacked. Terry counted on his strength to jump over Gene and free himself, but the Werebear was too quick.
A claw swung and embedded itself in Terry’s leg, stopping him mid-leap. Gene dragged Terry to his chest, turning the human away from him to expose his neck.
“STOP!” Char bellowed. Gene opened his jaws wide. Char leapt into the air and with the full force of her Werewolf strength, she punched Gene in the side of his furry Werebear head. He instantly dropped Terry and staggered to the side, changing into human form as he fell over.
Terry stumbled, wincing at the damage to his leg. Char gave him a drink of water and together they watched Gene struggle to his feet.
“What happen? I thought I won!” he exclaimed.
“You did win, my large friend. You are getting better with each new day.” Terry didn’t give false compliments. He meant what he said.
“Next up, a bout with a real Weretiger.” Terry turned to Aaron who looked exasperated. “Yes, you.”
“Come on, Terry, he’s getting it!” Aaron whined.
“Change. NOW!” Terry demanded. Aaron didn’t bother taking his clothes off. He changed into Weretiger form and easily slipped out of his clothes.
The great cat screamed, showing its fangs. The Weretiger focused like a laser on the Werebear, then slowly laid down and started licking its paw.
Terry slapped his forehead. The two Weres had fought together, and Aaron and Gene were friends. Terry never knew what Aaron would do when he changed into Were form. In this case, the cat didn’t seem inclined to fight.
Terry stormed into the sand pit and grabbed Gene by his ears. The big man was naked and there was nothing else that Terry was willing to put his hands on. Gene’s face turned red, and Terry let go.
“Show him that a Weretiger cannot better you. Become the Werebear, my large friend,” Terry said softly, encouragingly.
Gene changed into the monstrous Werebear. He stood on his back legs and roared, then dropped to the ground, making sand fly and the earth shake. Aaron jumped to his feet, snarling afresh. Gene charged.
Aaron dashed out of the way, turned and attacked the Werebear’s flank, but Gene was ready. He dug in with his front paws and lashed out with a back leg, kicking aside the Weretiger’s attack. Bear claws and tiger claws raked each other’s leg, before they separated. Aaron circled away, slightly limping from his wound.
Gene turned and shambled slowly forward, but deliberately back and forth, trying to force Aaron into a corner. Char ran to the side once she found that she was between the tiger and the corner that Gene was trying to force him into.
Aaron bunched his legs beneath him, preparing for a mighty leap. Gene surged forward then jumped sideways into the path of the leaping Weretiger. Gene swung a giant paw, connecting with Aaron and sending him flying into a wall. Gene tore the ground up as he headed for the rebounding Weretiger.
Aaron heard him coming and leapt straight up the wall. He kicked against it and sailed well over Gene’s head. The Weretiger hit the ground and took off running.
Gene stood as he turned, ready for the Weretiger’s attack, but the only thing he saw was Aaron’s tail as teh Weretiger disappeared into the nearest stand of trees.
“I’d say that tells you how well you were doing, Gene,” Terry declared, as Char nodded.
Gene changed back into human form. He looked around before stating the obvious. “Hungry like bear.”
See what else Craig Martelle is up to at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Nomad Mortis Giveaway!
You aren’t going to believe this!
If you haven’t picked up your copy of Nomad Mortis – give this a try:) I’m giving away 50 free copies of Nomad Mortis! I’m sorry, but Amazon only lets me do US-only giveaways.
Terry’s war against the Forsaken drags on until he finds that the elusive Mister Smith has been playing chess while TH had been playing football. Where there’s one Forsaken, there’s more. When one falls, another rises to take its place. Will Terry Henry Walton’s war against the Forsaken ever end?
Please share far and wide and thank you all!
https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/84adae3b7ff5e8e6
Kneel or Die Audiobook!
We have a new AUDIOBOOK!
Kneel or Die: The Kurtherian Gambit, Book 7
The future just went upside down, when a nascent AI is added against Bethany Anne’s wishes. Then, there is David and his issues to take care of, permanently. Bethany Anne has had it with terrorists. Not encumbered with law, she seeks only justice for those who were killed in France. New members are added to the team as they continue their efforts to reach for the stars.