Formation Read online

  CONTENTS

  LMBPN Publishing

  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

  Epilogue

  Author Notes - Sarah Noffke

  Author Notes - J.N. Chaney

  Acknowledgements

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Exploration - Sneak Peak

  About Sarah Noffke

  About J.N. Chaney

  Michael Anderle Series List

  Michael Anderle Social

  Formation

  The Ghost Squadron Book 1

  By Sarah Noffke, J.N. Chaney and Michael Anderle

  A part of

  The Kurtherian Gambit Universe

  Written and Created

  by Michael Anderle

  DEDICATION

  For Lydia. My greatest treasure in the universe.

  -Sarah

  For Mom and Dad. Thanks for the telescope

  -J.N.

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  - Michael

  FORMATION

  Team Includes

  JIT Beta Readers - From all of us, our deepest gratitude!

  Kelly ODonnell

  Tim Bischoff

  Keith Verret

  Micky Cocker

  Daniel Weigert

  Larry Omans

  Kimberly Boyer

  Sarah Weir

  John Raisor

  AbH Belxjander Draconis Serechai

  If we missed anyone, please let us know!

  FORMATION (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 © 2017 JN Chaney, Sarah Noffke, Michael T. Anderle and Craig Martelle

  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, November 2017

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015 - 2017 by Michael T. Anderle.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Five Trees Bar. Trill Mining Colony, Lorialis System.

  T’turk played with his drink. His four shipmates were rowdy and occasionally bumped him, so he had to be careful not to spill his drink. He looked around Five Trees, the only damned bar worth visiting, in his opinion, for five systems.

  That wasn’t saying much, of course, since the only people living out this far from the Etheric Empire’s territory were pirates, miners, and smugglers. Bastards, all of them.

  “My kind of people,” he muttered to himself, smiling as his shipmate Fr’ling caught the eye of one of the girls.

  Fr’ling wouldn’t be leaving this space station with much money. Hell, neither would the other three. By the time the night ended, they’d each spend most of their earnings.

  Nursing his drink, he looked around the establishment, blinking with his yellow eyes. There were a lot of Kezzin in the bar tonight, including himself. Their red skin gave off a familiar glow in the artificial light. T’turk’s homeworld wasn’t far from here, so it was common to see his people on many of the stations in the neighboring systems. He liked it that way. The rest of the galaxy was far too crowded with non-Kezzin species, like humans and the other Etheric Empire scum. He couldn’t stand any of them.

  It was unfortunate, then, that he saw a man sitting on a stool with his face planted on the table. A human male who didn’t belong here.

  T’turk smirked. Perhaps he’d have a little fun today, after all.

  “Hey, you,” grunted T’turk as he got up from his table and walking to where the man was sitting. “Human.”

  The man had his face on the table—probably passed out from too much alcohol. “Look at this guy,” said T’turk. “Typical human. Can’t even handle his drink.”

  The man moaned, shifting a little.

  T’turk leaned over him and examined his equipment, hoping to find some money or possibly a key to a ship. The bastard wasn’t holding much except for a gray bag on the seat next to him. T’turk reached for it.

  “Don’t,” said the human, slowly looking at him.

  T’turk could never tell one human from the next. They all looked like a bunch of slugs to him, ugly and spongy. This one was no different.

  “What are you trying to hide, human? Got yourself a secret stash?”

  The man said nothing.

  T’turk laughed. “That’s what I thought. Too bad you were stupid enough to come in here.” He reached for the bag.

  A hand grabbed his wrist, surprising him. “I said don’t.”

  T’turk paused, glancing at the man again. “Do you have a death wish, meat sack? Back off before I kick your ass.”

  “No can do,” replied the stranger. “That’s my stuff. I need it more than you do.”

  “It’s mine now, unless you want a bullet in your empty head.” T’turk shook his wrist free, then took the bag and began emptying it. A pad fell out, hitting the counter, along with a handful of unopened soda cans, one of which rolled and hit the floor, breaking and hissing.

  T’turk stared at the contents of the bag, confused. “What’s all this trash?”

  The stranger looked at the soda on the floor as it sprayed chaotically. “Mother fucker,” he muttered.

  T’turk threw the empty bag down by his feet. “You better have something on you, human! I’ll rip you a new one right now. You know how many of your kind I’ve killed just this week? You’re all a bunch of mushy pieces of—”

  “You killed humans?” interrupted the stranger, raising his brow.

  “Over a dozen in four days!” bragged T’turk. “Ain’t that right, boys?”

  His crew cheered. “We raided a ship on its way to Nexus Colony,” announced Fr’ling. “Killed half and saved the rest for later.”

  T’turk grinned, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth. “That’s why we’re here celebrating.

  The human let out a sigh. “All I wanted was a drink and some food, but you just had to go and bring that up like a fucking jackass.”

  “What’s he saying, T’turk?” asked Fr’ling. “Tell him to speak up! It’s hard to hear humans. They’re too tiny.”

  T’turk laughed. “He’s scared. He knows h
e’s about to die.”

  The door to the Five Trees opened, and in walked another human. A woman, perhaps, but T’turk couldn’t be certain. They all looked the same to him, ugly and pathetic.

  She took a seat at the bar beside the male, motioning to the barkeep. “Whiskey,” she requested, turning away from T’turk.

  “You,” he said, puffing his chest at the female. “You’re interrupting us.”

  She didn’t answer.

  T’turk was about to raise his fist to the woman, when the male got to his feet. “Let’s leave the lady out of it. This is between you and me.”

  “Between us?” grinned T’turk. “Finally.”

  The man turned to the female. “Hey, wanna do me a favor?”

  She shrugged. “Depends.”

  “Just watch my drink while I take care of this idiot, would ya?” He slid his glass over to her. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

  “Whatever,” the female answered, still not bothering to look.

  The human male turned back to face T’turk. “All right, then, big fella,” grinned the little man. “Let’s see what you can do.”

  ***

  The bartender set the glass of whiskey on the table, and Julianna thanked him for it. “Bring me another three, would you?”

  “Certainly,” he said in an agreeable tone.

  She tossed the shot back in one straight motion, letting it slide down her throat with ease, ignoring the burn. It was hard to find the good stuff this far out into the galaxy, here on the rim, but she’d take the worst whiskey in the universe over the alien sludge they called alcohol here. These people wouldn’t know a good drink if it cracked them over the side of their—

  A glass went flying across the bar, hitting one of the patrons between his eyes. The alien fell straight to the floor, which caused his friend to panic. From the other direction, she heard the sound of someone getting beaten, followed by a scream.

  “Here you are,” said the bartender, delivering the rest of her drinks.

  She looked down at the three shots of whiskey, and nodded. “That’ll do.”

  The barkeep turned and left her alone. At the same time, a splatter of blood landed on the seat where Eddie had been sitting.

  Julianna took the first of the three shots and slammed the tiny glass on the counter. The whiskey burned her lips and went down hard, putting a fire in her belly.

  At that same moment, an alien by the name of Fr’ling spiraled into two of the barstools nearby. She felt the vibration in her legs as his red, scale-covered head met the metal support.

  She took another shot.

  “Whoa,” said a husky voice near the bathroom. He was a military man in every sense of the word, except he wasn’t wearing a uniform. Instead, like Julianna, he wore a set of ordinary-looking civilian clothes. It was an attempt to blend in and draw less attention. Uniforms weren’t common out here on the fringe, after all, and they didn’t need anyone asking questions. Even still, despite the outfit, the man had a hard time hiding who he truly was—a hardened, long-term military veteran with centuries under his belt. Like Julianna, this man had witnessed the birth of the Empire. He’d seen the deaths of countless enemies, even slain a few himself. Hell, depending on who you asked, this individual was the Empire. At the very least, he was the one at the top.

  His name was Lance Reynolds, a living legend. A man they told stories about. He was the father of the great Queen herself.

  And he had just taken a piss in the bathroom of a back-alley bar in the middle of nowhere. “What did I miss?” asked the General. He zipped up his fly, then walked over to the bar and looked at her.

  “Just a bunch of idiots, sir.”

  “Is that our boy? Looks like he’s taking quite the beating,” observed Lance.

  She shrugged. “He was asking for it.” She glanced down at her last drink.

  “We should probably do something,” Lance suggested.

  Julianna pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  She picked up the glass with three fingers and flung the awful whiskey back. “Ah,” she sighed, forcing it down. “Tastes like shit.”

  One of the aliens let out a cry from behind them. Julianna swiveled in her seat to see what was going on, half-expecting to find her target dead.

  Instead, she saw two aliens holding him by the arms. He had them locked together, all three of them unable to move.

  Julianna got to her feet and cleared her throat. She looked directly at the three fighters as they pressed against one another. “That’s enough!”

  Her voice boomed through the bar like thunder, and everyone who was still conscious turned to look in her direction.

  Edward had his fist raised, and there was blood on his knuckles, but he didn’t move. “Oh boy,” he grinned. “That’s some kind of voice.”

  “Quiet, human,” ordered T’turk, who had his arms around Edward’s neck and chest, keeping him in place. “Or you’ll be next.”

  Edward snickered. “Get in line for the bad ass kicking.”

  “You think I’m playing with you?” asked the alien. “I’ll rip you apart like a—”

  Before the word could leave T’turk’s mouth, Eddie slipped through his arms and ducked beneath him. He dug his fist straight into the alien’s ribcage. Julianna heard a bone crack. Eddie’s foot came up, bashing the second alien in the waist, stifling him.

  Julianna looked at Lance. “Do you mind?”

  The General chortled. “Have fun, you two.”

  She returned her gaze to the alien captain, the one who had bragged about how he had taken the lives of all those humans and how he’d tortured them, and Julianna leapt forward. She dashed so quickly that she was almost a blur, her fist hitting the thick-chested alien in the neck, breaking his windpipe. Before he could realize what was happening, she fell to her side and brought her foot up, kicking him in the face, sending him to the floor. He fell like a brick wall, shaking the very foundation of the place.

  Edward grinned at the sight before him, but rather than gawk and stare, he turned toward the only alien remaining.

  “No, wait!” begged the thin, red-skinned Kezzin.

  But Edward wasn’t listening. He punched him in the jaw, sending a splatter of orange blood into the air. Eddie jammed both palms into the alien’s chest, sending the pirate two meters back and into the wall, instantly knocking him unconscious as he slid into a puddle of spilled beer.

  Julianna stood over T’turk as he struggled to gasp for air. The alien clutched his throat. “H-How?”

  Julianna towered over him with Eddie by her side. “You’re surprised?” she asked the pirate. “You didn’t expect humans to wipe the floor with you?”

  “That’s why you lost,” muttered Eddie.

  Julianna took a step back, and turned to the man she had traveled so far to see. “Edward Teach, is it?”

  He took a napkin from the nearby table and wiped the blood from his fingers. “And you are?”

  “Julianna Fregin. I’ve come a long way to meet you.”

  He twisted his lips, curiously. “That so? Are you from a collections agency? I owe you some money? If this is about the ship I crashed a few months ago, that wasn’t my fault. I was sideswiped. It was a good old-fashioned hit-and-run.”

  “It’s not about that, although I might have questions.” Julianna glanced at General Reynolds. “Would you care to step in, sir?”

  “Who’s a ‘sir’?” asked Edward.

  “That would be me,” answered Lance, approaching from the edge of the bar. “General Lance Reynolds. Pleased to meet you, Captain Teach.”

  “Wait, wait, wait…You’re Lance Reynolds?” asked Edward. He shook his head. “No fucking way. That’s not—”

  “Possible? I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t normally run off to this sector, but I decided to make a special exception today.”

  Eddie studied the General for a moment, analyzing his clothes, and leaning in to examine his face. “You don’t look like t
he most powerful man in the galaxy. Are you two fucking with me right now? Is this a joke or something?”

  “I’m undercover,” said Lance. “You should know, since, based on your clothes, I’m guessing you are too.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” asked Eddie, looking down at his messy appearance. He wore a set of baggy clothes, which were now ripped in several places, and his thick, untended beard made him appear homeless.

  “Is that a serious question?” asked Julianna. “You look like shit.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Eddie, raising his hands. “But why would you come all this way just to see a guy like me? Did I piss off the wrong person in the Empire?”

  “It’s the Federation now, but no, nothing like that.” Lance chuckled. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

  “Right, well, what is it then? What would make a guy like you come all the way out to the middle of bum-fucking-nowhere just to see me? I mean, if I don’t owe you money and I didn’t piss you off, there has to be a good reason.”

  “Because, Eddie,” said Lance, smirking. “You had fifty-seven confirmed kills during your service. You saved countless lives, and your men respected the hell out of you. Sure, you fucked up sometimes. Got into a few scrapes here and there. Spoke out of turn. But you kept those kids alive through the worst of it, and any one of them would give their life for yours. That’s what I found out when I went snooping. That’s why I’m here. I’ve been searching far and wide for the right person to do a job, and your name keeps coming up. ‘Edward Teach,’ they kept saying. ‘That’s the guy you want.’ Is that who you are, Captain? Are you the man they said you were?”

  Edward stared at the General, this impossible figure from stories and myths. He was so composed, so relaxed, but there was a strength in his eyes. The kind that only people like Eddie knew. “I’m none of those things anymore.”