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Life Goes On
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CONTENTS
Kurtherian Gambit
Dedication
Legal
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Payback Is A Bitch
Author’s Notes
Social Links
Series List
LIFE GOES ON
The Kurtherian Gambit Book 21
By Michael Anderle
A part of
The Kurtherian Gambit Universe
Written and Created
by Michael Anderle
The Kurtherian Gambit Universe
(and what happens within characters situations / worlds) are
Copyright (c) 2015 - 2018 by Michael Anderle and LMPBN Publishing.
DEDICATION
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
And a special call out to Joshua (D’artagnan) Anderle
Who was half the reason I even wrote that first book, Death Becomes Her.
Life Goes On
The Kurtherian Gambit 21 Team
Beta Editor / Readers
Bree Buras (Aussie Awesomeness)
Tom Dickerson (The man)
S Forbes (oh yeah!)
Dorene Johnson (US Navy (Ret) & DD)
Dorothy Lloyd (Teach you to ask…Teacher!)
Diane Velasquez (Chinchilla lady & DD)
JIT Beta Readers
Paul Westman
Kelly O’Donnell
Micky Cocker
James Caplan
Larry Omans
Timothy Bischoff
Joshua Ahles
Kimberly Boyer
Sarah Weir
Peter Manis
Mike Pendergrass
Sherry Foster
Daniel Weigert
John Ashmore
Thomas Ogden
Erika Everest
Edward Rosenfeld
Veronica Torres
If I missed anyone, please let me know!
Editors
Stephen Russell
Lynne Stiegler
Thank you to the following Special Consultants
for Life Goes On
Jeff Morris - US Army - Asst Professor Cyber-Warfare, Nuclear Munitions (Active)
LIFE GOES ON (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Michael T. Anderle
Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, February 2018
The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within characters situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2018 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.
CHAPTER ONE
The massive Leviathan-class superdreadnought hung in space, slowly moving through the black depths above the planet. Silent, but not immobile.
Well over seven thousand times a second, the AI updated the attack plans should her Empress need to call on the abilities of the warships to rain fire on the planet below.
It was intended to be a peaceful visit, ArchAngel knew, but she developed contingencies as she eavesdropped on the communications.
She was always prepared.
Ixtali News Agency Duonto
“This information has been confirmed,” the news reporter said into his microphone as he looked at the drone camera. “The two massive Etheric Empire warships above our planet are here on a planned visit, bringing Empress Bethany Anne to speak with our political leaders.”
He turned to his right, his four mandibles signaling that he was just a touch uncomfortable.
He had heard the rumors of the Empress’ incandescent rage over the new Federation efforts, especially the many requirements they were trying to place on her people.
And for what it was worth, he sympathized.
However, he could also sympathize with the other governments, as well as the Ixtali. The Empire itself was too powerful to create even a semblance of equality among the proposed Federation’s members, so the negotiations were rather rough with those in the Empire itself—including the most divisive issue, which he was sure would set the Empress off.
They wanted her to step down.
QBS ArchAngel II, Above the Ixtali Planet
Bethany Anne put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “Just shoot me now, and let me leave this fucking job already!” she murmured. Opening her eyes, she looked at herself, or rather, the visage of the AI ArchAngel on the screen in front of her, and asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she responded. “Two different groups are working to break up the meeting, either while or after you speak with the Ixtali council.”
Bethany Anne made a face and glanced at John, who merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled back at her.
Same shit, different planet.
“We have a call from a private line,” ArchAngel informed Bethany Anne, who raised her right eyebrow. “From Legate Addix,” ArchAngel qualified.
“Well, that tears it.” Bethany Anne turned and started toward her weapons closet. “This will be an armored visit.”
The AI opened the door before she got to the room. As she stepped inside she said, “This is Bethany Anne.”
The Ixtali’s voice came from the speakers. “Empress, I apologize for going outside normal protocols, but there are a few issues here you might want to be aware of before you come down.”
“Speak to me, Addix,” Bethany Anne replied as she opened drawers. She turned and pointed to John and then to a new set of drawers she’d had installed.
She turned back to her search, so she didn’t notice the unasked question on John’s face as he started opening the drawers.
“Oh,” he murmured as he pulled out a couple of knives. “Someone has been shopping at the blades and cutlery store and not sharing the spoils,” he whispered as he selected two for himself.
When he turned around Bethany Anne was naked, about to pull up her under-armor suit. He quickly turned back, raising his eyes to the ceiling as he shook his head.
Damn that woman! “What happens on the mission stays on the mission,” he subvocalized, listening to her dress behind him. She had been tweaking him since way back in Florida.
He’d complained to his wife
Jean about it a few decades ago, but she just patted him on the cheek with a knowing smile on her face.
He’d had no clue what Jean had meant by that, and that had made the response scarier than it should have been.
When he heard the expected zipper closing, he turned around. She was putting on a skintight suit that did little to hide much, but changed her skin color from white to a Lycra-looking black.
He rolled his eyes. At least he wasn’t staring at Baba Yaga.
Does this make me look fat? she sent straight into his mind as she carried on the conversation with the Senior Legate. He glanced around the room to confirm nothing seemed amiss, and then headed out of her arms locker.
Well, it was much more than an arms locker, really.
You might have gained a pound, he sent back, chuckling under his breath as he imagined her eyes trying to burn a hole through the back of his head. He smirked. She would be trying to figure out where that pound was for a week.
Priceless!
“ArchAngel?” John called over his own link to the AI.
“Yes, John?” He could hear her through the bone conduction speakers in his head.
“Please close the arms locker door,” he commanded, and the door behind him immediately started closing as he took up a protective position outside.
“Closed,” she confirmed. “Why?”
He smirked. “I don’t want to hear her bitch about weight gain after the call with the Senior Legate.”
—
Bethany Anne stared at the broad back of her friend as he stepped out.
If only she had laser eyes!
“Bastard!” Bethany Anne murmured. John took up a protective position with his back to her as the door to her room closed.
“I’m sorry?” the Senior Legate replied over the speakers in her suite. “I don’t think I know that word.”
Bethany Anne rolled her eyes as her focus snapped back to her call. “I have to apologize.” She turned and opened the drawers where her latest armor setup was stored. “It was a personal comment,” she admitted as she pulled out the core chest and back protection. “Who will need their ass kicked, and why?”
QBS Ranger Prime, Onstation near the QBS ArchAngel II over the Ixtali Planet
The Empress’ Rangers had fought many battles, either by themselves, with their support staff, or with their ships inside and occasionally outside the Etheric Empire. For many of the last decades, major law enforcement problems inside the Etheric Empire had been significantly reduced, and that could be traced to one ship.
The QBS Ranger Prime.
Ranger Prime was the largest law enforcement ship any political group in any system near the Etheric Empire had in their possession, and the ship made a statement.
The statement was, “Don’t try to play pirate in the Etheric Empire. They don’t fuck around.”
The Skaines had learned a few valuable lessons, not the least of which was to never believe it was safe to try and rip-off a quick score. When an Etheric Empire superdreadnought whose raison d’être was to focus on piracy and other law enforcement operations might arrive at any time, there wasn’t shit they could do if it showed up but hope they could make a run for it.
Only huge system-level governments could foot the costs of building and manning warships. The Skaines as a group used them.
However, the Etheric Empire was already at war, and their damned Rangers had requisitioned one of their elite and largest capital ships for themselves.
And the Empress had gone along with it.
During the Battle of Yerrluck, the Skaines had tried to box Ranger Prime and destroy her. For this engagement, fifteen percent of the Skaines’ total military force had been concentrated in one location.
Fifteen minutes after the battle had started and the Skaine trap had been sprung, the QBS ArchAngel II and the QBS Reynolds arrived.
One third of the Skaine ships had been decimated before the surrender message could be verified.
Barnabas often used the ship as a silent reminder to criminal organizations who were fighting amongst themselves to refrain from killing civilians in the process.
Ranger Prime would arrive without a word, and slide through the atmosphere to park a few thousand feet in the sky over a city.
Most of the criminal organizations had heard that after the arrival they had six hours to fix the problem—or else. If they hadn’t notified the ship by then that they were working on a deal, a message went out to explain the warring factions had three hours to make peace.
Barnabas didn’t believe in allowing his Rangers or their support teams to take risks, so his people went on-planet wearing EE-LEA, “Etheric Empire-Law Enforcement Armor.”
One of the most poorly-kept secrets was that the Rangers’ LEA was military grade armor with a fresh coat of paint.
Something criminals could rarely afford, and what they could buy was never as good as what the Rangers wore.
At last count, over one hundred and twelve peace agreements had been signed on Ranger Prime.
Barnabas walked onto the bridge, which was as he liked it.
Calm, quiet, and civil.
Even during the heat of battle, rarely did the personnel on the bridge feel any anxiety from their leader.
He was over a thousand years old, and had worked for centuries perfecting his ability to remain composed. Barnabas was the quintessential example of “cool under fire.”
He allowed very little to bother him.
Unfortunately, just a short time back he had gone on an operation with Tabitha and Peter where he had tasted a little freedom from the normal restraints he engaged to keep his emotions in check.
And it had felt good. Really good.
QBS Leviathan SuperDreadnought, shadowing the ArchAngel II above Ixtali
Barnabas’ face was a mask of calm as he sat down in the leader’s chair on his bridge and contemplated future steps for his Rangers.
It had been decided that the QBS Ranger Prime would go with Bethany Anne to Earth, and be listed in the records as having left.
Barnabas pursed his lips, thinking about…other options.
“Ranger One?” The EI’s face was a copy of Barnabas’ own. It didn’t use much creativity in communication.
“Yes, Prime?” Barnabas cocked his head to the right.
“The Empress has requested your presence for an operations effort. No Rangers on this mission, volunteers only.”
Barnabas pushed on his seat’s armrests and stood up. “How many volunteers does she need?”
“Right now, she says the more the merrier, but at least five.”
Barnabas thought about who was aboard and smiled. “I’ll have seven.”
“She asks that you suit up, but it might be a few hours before the operation starts. She says to let you know the Shinigami will arrive to convey the volunteers.”
Barnabas spoke over his shoulder as he left the bridge. “Understood.”
Ixtali Planet, Capital City, Convention Hall
The large convention hall was full. The Ixtali leaders walked down the stairs from above, then across the floor before stepping onto the podium which held their table. Once they had seated themselves they looked at the audience, and the room hushed.
The atmosphere was electric. The last few times the Etheric Empress had visited this location nothing had happened.
This time, there was an undercurrent of expectation.
There were video documentaries of her first trip to Ixtali, and the deaths that had occurred when the rebels had tried to harm her. However, it was so far in the past that the stories had grown to be damned near unbelievable.
The convention hall was accessed through twelve doors. Four were larger, and one, a double set, was considered the main entrance. Rising two stories, the twin doors were gilded in bronze metal and decorated with serif sigils inlaid in silver metal. It was through these doors the Etheric Empress entered.
In armor, with her helmet on.
Hus
hed whispers crisscrossed the auditorium as she took her first few steps down the stairs. She had four flights to descend before attaining the floor.
She went down five steps before she started air-walking. With each step she would descend a little, but it wasn’t long before she was easily a full body-height above the stairs themselves.
There were five guards below her. The one in front was a female.
Gabrielle, send someone back out and have them ready to close and lock the doors when I get to the podium, if necessary.
Yes, ma’am, Gabrielle replied, and from beneath Bethany Anne an armored guard turned and went back up the stairs.
Gabrielle looked around. How many are we looking at?
Just one at the moment, Bethany Anne replied.
Where?
I’ll take care of her, was the response.
You’re taking all our fun.
I keep as much as I can, but I’ll give you guys the rest.
That’s nice. Gabrielle continued scanning the crowd. You still need to tell me where.
Fine, Bethany Anne warned, but if you snuff her before I get a chance I’ll be doubly hard at Tuesday’s workout.
You can be harder? Gabrielle asked. Unholy hell, have you been going easy on me?
Do you wish to find out?
There was a pause. Yeah, Gabrielle admitted. I need to know if I have to up my game more.
Sucks coming back sometimes.
Not as much now as the first time, Gabrielle replied as they approached the floor. Last time I spent hundreds of years trying to not do much martially. This time I thought I wanted to enjoy motherhood and then family life, but I finally realized it was just an excuse. I had an aversion to the pain of training.
And now?
I rather enjoy it again, Gabrielle admitted. Plus, the look on John’s face when I get inside his guard is sweet. So where is my mark?
Bethany Anne didn’t look behind her. First row, fourth Ixtali on your left. She is wearing a red necklace with a purple flower of some sort as a pendant.