Payback Is A Bitch (The Kurtherian Endgame Book 1) Read online

  The apple-crunching noises continued to mar the peace of the ship’s interior space as Tabitha pondered how to get out of Hirotoshi’s peaceful condemnation of her whining.

  Three days on a ship doing jack-all was bad enough. Both of them had been enhanced hundreds of years before; Hirotoshi was over six hundred and Tabitha was around the same age as Bethany Anne. Now she had to be patient with enhancements which could make three days seems like…

  “I am going out of my Gott Verdammt mind,” she griped. “I feel like I can see glass melt, it’s taking so long.”

  Hirotoshi leaned forward and confirmed that no alarms had been issued while he was relaxing. While he should have heard alarms, he always double-checked. “Glass doesn’t melt, it flows.”

  Tabitha’s mouth was open and she was about to take another bite, but she took a moment to question his statement. “Come again?”

  “Glass,” he replied. “It is not solid. It flows, but at such a glacial pace we can’t perceive it visually.”

  Tabitha’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder if I could come back in a hundred years and check that if I put a piece of glass here on Tortie Tooga?”

  “I believe it takes many, many thousands of years.”

  “Oh. Well, then fuck that.” She chomped into the apple and continued while chewing, “I’ve got places to be in a few thousand years. Full calendar and all that.”

  The message alarm sounded and they both looked up.

  “Hot damn.” Tabitha grinned. “We have something to do!”

  High Tortuga, Hidden Space Fleet Base, Prime Building

  Bethany Anne sat back in her chair and scratched the side of her nose with her finger. “Well, first let me say thank you for building my pit, William.” She made a face. “And here’s a hearty ‘fucking hell’ for this piece of news.”

  “What can I say, BA?” he replied. “We built the BYPS system for Earth. High Tortuga’s system has more issues, and we are twenty percent—at a minimum—below optimum on the number of laser satellites required to protect this planet. And that’s only one layer of coverage. You do remember telling us to beef up the system back on Earth, right?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “I robbed Peter to pay Paul. I was hoping my dad would be able to get us some more.”

  “Problems back in the Federation?”

  “Not massive, but everyone is still doubting we destroyed the gate—and if we didn’t destroy the gate, then we still have the ships. People who went to Earth and then came back are showing up on random checks. The statement that we sent a couple of ships back when people realized they just didn’t want to be on the mission is only halfway selling it.”

  “Well, those other groups fear the superdreadnoughts.” William’s holo image shrugged. “What did you expect?”

  “I was hoping, but not expecting, to be able to get some additional support ships, but the General can’t make it happen. Too chancy to have anyone head in this direction and lead someone here. Even a million-to-one chance is too risky right now.”

  “So what do we do about the coverage? You want to leave any area of the planet exposed?”

  “No,” she grumped. “I want my cake, and I want to eat it, too—and your cake, if I can get it.”

  William just grinned. “You shouldn’t take chocolate cake from a black man. That’s just not right.”

  “I’m pregnant, not racist. I’ll take cake from anyone. Ok, let’s make this a game.” She leaned forward. “Get with the ships’ EIs and create a mobile game app that utilizes everything from a hundred and fifty percent BYPS satellites down to fifty percent on the most difficult setting. Tell ArchAngel to set up multiple scenarios, everything from killer asteroids to waves of spaceships to small pirate attacks. Level one is the easiest, with all the BYPSs in play and simple scenarios. Next level is five percent fewer satellites. Keep increasing difficulty until we have people winning with eighty percent or less.”

  “Why wouldn’t the EIs be able to run this alone?”

  “Call it a hunch,” she replied. “Make sure ArchAngel is informed if someone beats a level because the game wasn’t real enough, then update the game and keep going. Tell everyone that whoever wins at sixty percent in ‘god mode’ will be given a prize of ten thousand credits and a party for their friends in space.”

  “No one could win at sixty percent, BA.” William retorted.

  “Then I guess we won’t pay out. However, once we know the game works here with our folks who play games, release it to the public as a Baba Yaga Production.”

  “That’s…” William chuckled, then slowly stopped. “That’s fucking genius!”

  “I know. I keep telling Michael I’m a genius and he looks at me funny.”

  “I’m going to go start this with ArchAngel, but before I go…when do you want that reporters’ room built?”

  Bethany Anne looked down at her belly. “Better make it in another year, I don’t want to rip a reporter’s head off ‘cause I’m sleep-deprived with the baby crying.”

  “Boy or girl?” He smiled.

  “Don’t know,” Bethany Anne admitted, looking at William’s cherubic face. “TOM won’t tell me unless I ask, and I’m not asking. Michael is happy if I’m happy, so…not yet.”

  “Going to paint the nursery pink or blue?”

  “Ugh, no.” She shook her head. “As much shit as I gave Gabrielle with her twins? I wouldn’t live it down for decades.”

  “C’mon now, really?”

  “Yes, really. Her exact words were ‘you won’t live it down for decades’ when it was brought up.”

  “Well, I can only imagine the kind of shit you must have said.”

  “Damned Gabrielle! She kept snippets in video form just in case this ever happened and yeah, I was a total twerp about it.”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  Bethany Anne grinned. “I thought it was funny at the time!”

  “All right, I’ll get on this mobile game project. Tell Michael I’ll have his barbeque pit sometime next month. The size is a little bit of a problem.”

  “What barbeque pit?” she asked.

  “He didn’t tell you?” William shrugged. “Ok, my bad. You should ask your husband.”

  “I didn’t know my soon-to-be husband and possibly soon-to-be-dead baby daddy wanted a pit. Where the hell is he planning on placing this monstrosity, and how big will it be?

  “Probably about a hundred square feet of cooking space.”

  “You mean inches?” she asked.

  “No, I mean feet. Almost fifteen thousand square inches of meat-grilling surface.”

  “Where. Is. He. Planning. On…” she ground out as William continued waxing poetic about his grill.

  “Oh, in a new room to be built near the kitchens, with special chimneys for heat and smoke dissipation so it can’t be seen from above.”

  “Oh, so nowhere near our quarters?”

  “Nope.”

  “All right. Well, take care of yourself, and thanks again for working on the Pit for me.”

  “Pit for you, pit for Michael, all I do are pits all dAAYYYyyyy loooOOOoooong.”

  “Right. Don’t quit your day job, buddy.”

  “Later, BA.” His holo disappeared.

  She thought about the past. “When did Michael start liking to grill?”

  Above High Tortuga, Ship Lerrith Qualgoth Keepto (Translation: either The Bitch Has an Ass or Kiss My Ass, depending on dialect), Northern Hemisphere, Third Quadrant

  “Hail ship with transponder 34332,” came across the speaker system.

  “Well, that’s unexpected,” Gorath, Captain of the pirate ship Kiss My Ass intoned. He scratched his ear. “Give me the mic.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Communications Specialist Tar responded. On the Kiss my Ass, being a comm spec meant you knew how to push the fucking buttons on the ship’s radio. “You’re live.”

  “This is the captain of the Lerrith Qualgoth Keepto. Who am I speaking with?”

  A v
oice in a higher register than his replied, “This is Tabitha, captain of Trade and Contraband Vessel 18. You are requested to prepare for boarding. We must confirm that you are carrying no slaves or illegal trade goods before you will be allowed to proceed.”

  Gorath wrinkled his brow. Everyone on the bridge was Skaine so that last barb about slaves was logical, but this wasn’t recognizably a Skaine ship. He shrugged. Perhaps they were just anti-slavery, but if so that was news to him.

  “Since when does Devon have a trade team?” he asked. “How do I know you aren’t just a pirate trying to get on my ship?” The captain released his talk button and remarked to the crew on the bridge with him, “Can you believe that shit? A pirate vessel asking if the other is a pirate vessel? Damn!” He chuckled for a moment. “Sometimes I kill myself.”

  He looked around. “Anyone got them on radar yet?”

  A bunch of negatives came back to him. “Well, shit. I guess we are just going to have to let them board. Shame those Shrillexians in the back haven’t fought for a while. I doubt these poor dumbasses from Devon are going to last long enough to curse me out, but what the hell? They are asking to come aboard.”

  Tabitha was becoming impatient. “We could send a missile into you and then board you, but either way, we are going to check your ship out.”

  Gorath punched the mic button. “Well, fine,” he grumped. “I hope you realize my insurance doesn’t cover you, so if you stub your toe or cut your head open or something I won’t pay to get it fixed.”

  “Sure, sure. I think we’ve been on enough ships to not stub our toes. We will be alongside in…”

  A solid CLUNK reverberated through Gorath’s ship.

  “Now,” the voice finished.

  Gorath nodded to his comm specialist. “Well, we weren’t expecting visitors, so give us a minute to get someone back there to lay out the welcome mat and all that shit. Just don’t expect me to be on my best behavior. I’m not even awake from my nap yet.”

  “Fine, we will open the door in five minutes if you don’t.”

  Gorath made a motion to cut the connection. “Pushy little twerp,” he grunted. “Someone tell those Shrillexians in the hold they have to start their jobs a bit early. And any blood gets spilled back there, they get to clean it up!”

  11

  Above High Tortuga, Anti-Piracy and Boarding Action Ship 18, Northern Hemisphere, Third Quadrant

  Tabitha finished buckling up her armor and slid the coat sleeve on her right arm, then reached around to get the left as Hirotoshi lifted it for her.

  “I thought you were being very hopeful to bring your old Ranger coat along,” he admitted.

  “Me and this coat have been through everything. It’s good to be back in action.”

  “So, you think this will be?”

  “It’s dodgy as hell,” Tabitha lifted her Jean Dukes pistol out of her holster and checked the setting. She adjusted it down to three so the darts wouldn’t penetrate the ship’s hull. She should be able to safely go to five, but she wasn’t positive about the quality of the other ship yet. “Let me go in first, and you lock up this ship after you exit. Don’t want someone stealing our ride.”

  “I should teach you—” he started.

  “To suck eggs. I know.” Tabitha finished. “But I gotta say it, and you know that.” She slapped the pistol back into her holster and grabbed a couple of patches. “Stick this on your shoulder. Makes us look official on the off chance this is a legit trader.”

  Hirotoshi took the offered patch. “Baba Yaga Trade and Commerce Department, Orbital Support Officer 1212.” He looked up. “What is your number?”

  Tabitha slapped it on her coat’s shoulder and pointed to it. “Two, bitches!”

  “Shouldn’t I have been three or something?” Hirotoshi shook his head.

  “Hey.” She opened the portal when the lights turned green. “I had 783, but I got it changed for personal reasons.”

  Tabitha stepped into the umbilical passageway between their ships, which had a good connection to the other vessel. Should she get tossed into space, her armor would maintain a protective field around her head for approximately half an hour.

  Hopefully someone would pick her up.

  At the five-minute mark, she lifted her hand to knock on the outer door and heard the chunk of the door’s lock opening. Hirotoshi slid out of 18 behind her, slammed the door shut, and placed a metal bar across the seam. No one was opening that without his permission.

  Seconds later the door moved to the side, allowing Tabitha and Hirotoshi to step inside the airlock. The outer door closed and the airlock pressurized.

  The inner door unlocked.

  Tabitha pushed it open and stepped inside.

  —

  Bach was tall for a Shrillexian. He had an eye patch over his left eye because it had been lasered out after the doctors confirmed he wasn’t going to be able to use it again. Apparently they weren’t able to regrow it a fifth time.

  His species had a gene that made them want to test themselves in battle, which had historically caused them to leave their planet and serve as mercenaries or hit squads—anything that allowed them to fight regularly.

  Until the Empire produced a cure—something that didn’t hamper their enhanced capacity to deal damage in battle too much but overcame their need to fight. Now, his planet was seeing a strong population explosion as males finally started growing old enough to impregnate the women while they were on-planet.

  Instead of coming back to the planet in coffins or body bags—if they came back at all.

  Except for Bach. He didn’t like the feeling the drugs caused, and he didn’t like the supposition that his people needed help. He didn’t take the medicine, so he continued seeking out mercenary groups that offered the opportunity for battle.

  And now he and three other Shrillexians were going to rough up a couple of boarders from the trade group. Not very honorable, but as a mercenary you took what you got.

  And what he would be getting was opening the airlock inner door.

  —

  “Oh, look!” Tabitha exclaimed, her eyes bright. Hirotoshi peered over her shoulder to see what Tabitha’s comment had been about and looked into the faces of the four.

  “Dammit.” He sighed. “Why’d it have to be Shrillexians?”

  Hirotoshi loved a good fight like anyone else, but Shrillexians were tall, muscled, and fast, and worse, they healed a lot faster than he did. Fighting one Shrillexian was the same as fighting three of anything else. “Can’t we just shoot them?”

  Too late. Tabitha had already smarted off to the leader with the eyepatch and he took a swing.

  “Protect my back,” Hirotoshi requested as he ducked a swing from the Shrillexian on the right and slammed his left hand into his attacker’s ribs, cracking four of them and knocking the male back into the large hold to bump into a couple of boxes before stumbling over them. Truth be told, there was room for at least twelve to fight in this place.

  “I’m bored,” he told no one in particular as he stopped a punch from another Shrillexian in mid-air and broke his kneecap with a kick. The Shrillexian yelled, eyes wide as Hirotoshi slammed a fist into his nose, which caused blood to spurt in all directions. “INCOMING!” He ducked as the first threw a punch his way. He checked on his second, but he was still down trying to put his leg back together.

  Hirotoshi glanced at Tabitha, but she had her two opponents under control so he walked toward the first Shrillexian, who had stepped over a box.

  “’Spend a little time in space getting to know each other,’” Hirotoshi quipped.

  “I DID NOT SAY THAT!” Tabitha yelled from her side of the hold, and Hirotoshi chuckled. If she was listening to him chatter she wasn’t in trouble.

  “You know,” Hirotoshi blocked the first and second punches tossed by his opponent, “you don’t have to do this.” He slammed aside a rather quick jab and then kicked away a knee attack with the flat of his foot. “Ok, that was just low.�
��

  Hirotoshi lifted his elbow, using the armored cap at the end to block the next punch and cracking the fingers of his Shrillexian opponent. Taking the opportunity, he stepped inside and pounded the shit out of the male’s ribs. He hit him five times and heard at least twenty-three cracks loud enough to make him wince, then savagely slammed his elbow into the Shrillexian’s jaw, sending him into the air to land on his back, out cold.

  He turned around to see his second opponent squeezing the trigger on a pistol.

  The slug hit Hirotoshi mid-chest, but he was wearing some of Jean Dukes’ latest armor. The kinetic energy dissipated throughout its links, but he was off-balance so he stumbled backward a few steps.

  How embarrassing! He glanced over, but Tabitha wasn’t watching. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with her laughter. He lifted his gun and shot the other in the pistol arm. It blew off a fair chunk of flesh that splattered the floor before the guy dropped. When he glanced back, his first attacker wasn’t awake yet.

  That was Shrillexian biology for you. Beat them hard enough and then knock them out, and you had a chance the body would keep them comatose while it used all available energy to heal them. It didn’t always work—and Hirotoshi didn’t know why that was the case—but it usually did and right now he was happy for the respite.

  It gave him time to watch Tabitha. Only the leader with the black patch was left. Her other challenger was out cold on the deck.

  “Keep up your left hip on that move,” he called.

  —

  “I DID NOT SAY THAT!” Tabitha huffed as she slapped away her second foe’s kick. That damned Hirotoshi knew how to get under her skin. Always calm in a fight, whereas she liked to ride the lightning.

  She twisted to her left, her coat swinging but also hiding the left that followed to catch Black-Patch Guy in the ribs.

  He went sailing into a wall next to a door.

  “Two points for the door.” She chuckled.