Well, since Mike commented on my blog about the snippet going out on FB, I figured it's time to post it here. :)
Oh, if you are interested, (which I am) Mike Kotcher (Minion Mike on the FB group, also Lieutenant Mike in the Wandering Engineer universe) has released a sequel to his Samir in Argos series.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WS6203Y/ref=wl_it_dp_o_pC_nS_ttl?_encoding=UTF8&colid=3BVT4C3L8P9IZ&coliid=IDSB05TCM8EQI
Very cool. I plan on picking up my copy when I get through my backlog.
Anyway, on to the snippet:
ACT I
Chapter 1
Gunnery
Sergeant Jethro McClintock, black NeoPanther and Recon Marine
recovered in rehabilitation rapidly once the medics had discharged
him from the security suite in the hospital complex of the Naval
Annex. He was puzzled by the changes in his body. He was also puzzled
over the nanites in his body and how they had allowed him to survive
his most recent brush with death. Not many managed to suck vacuum and
live to tell of the experience he thought. Not that it had been
enjoyable, not at all. It had been an act of defiance and
desperation, breaching the airlock to kill his opponents in the
machine shop. But it had damn near killed him in the process.
While
he slept his A.I. Bast had reshaped his implants. He tried to talk to
the A.I. but she hadn't spoken to him again. He wondered if she
would, or if it would take his being in his armored suit to do so.
She kept it nearby, an ever present guardian of his person. A
reminder that he needed such protection, something he didn't want to
think about but had to if he was going to survive for long.
Many
also didn't live long with a 'fatwa', a kill on sight order from the
Shadow League hanging over their heads like a sword of Damocles.
She
refused to tell him what she was doing; only flashing her eyes redly
at him when he became insistent. He had strange cravings for food
from time to time, and odd substances that would ordinarily turn his
stomach. He wasn't certain if it was all a part of the healing
process or Bast at work.
Bast
was a legacy from his past, a piece of his heritage like his flat
black suit of powered combat armor. The most powerful and
sophisticated suit in the Federation's arsenal, possibly the only
Cadre suit left in existence. Bast was a part of the suit as much as
a part of him. He was still coming to terms with all its
implications.
For
months she had seemed like a black and gold cat on his HUD, quiet and
reserved. She'd seemed young, a kitten, but as she had 'grown' she'd
matured more and more into a Neofeline shape. Not that she showed it
much. She wanted him in the suit as much as possible, which wasn't
possible while he had been stuck in his bed.
She'd
even locked him in the damn suit when he'd finally agreed. It had
taken a direct command from Captain Logan for her to reluctantly let
him back out. He'd started to get claustrophobic in the suit too,
something she perhaps had recognized. But she was still not talking
much, he thought, eying her image for a moment.
When
she did communicate it was more of a sense of feelings and
impressions, not much dialog. She had spoken once but had refused to
speak again despite his entreaties to do so. She would vocalize, like
when he insisted on coming to the memorial, but not in words.
He'd
given up on pressing her for the moment. Today belonged to someone
else he thought darkly. He finally had to deal with the Matriarch's
death and the small part he'd played in it. She had been executed as
a ploy, a simple thing to piss him off enough to allow Miss
Persephone the opportunity to get inside his head and make him screw
up. It had almost worked.
She
was dead. He wasn't. He shook himself slightly, getting a handle on
his rising ire.
Another
problem was coming to his attention more and more, dealing with the
vacuum of the Matriarch's untimely death. She had been the last Neo
clan leader in the star system. Now everyone who had been near her,
who had looked to her for guidance and aid was scrambling for a
rudder. Some had tried to latch onto Jethro at the memorial despite
the heavy security detail at the formal gathering. For once he was
glad they were around.
He
was glad that the press had been excluded. Oh Knox was there, but he
was there as a friend to the Matriarch; not as a reporter. The human
occasionally smiled politely to those who noted his presence and
looked him up and then moved on. Jethro nodded to him in passing.
Knox was dressed in a conservative business suit of charcoal gray.
His wife had been in attendance at one point but had been called
away. Jethro's enhanced hearing had picked up their conversation
easily. The wife hadn't been at all happy about being in the presence
of so many neo predators. Tough for her he thought with a slight
sniff of disdain.
During
the memorial Jethro found out the Matriarch had also been helping
many of the alien species in the star system. Many were there at the
memorial or had sent representatives. The Alien-Neo tax had been
repealed but no one was ready to forgive or forget quite easily or
soon, he noted. He caught smatterings of talk about forming a lobby
or continuing the exodus out of the star system from time to time.
He
tried his best to handle it. He gave a few curt nods to those who
approached him but he felt on edge. It wasn't just him; even Bast was
watching everyone with narrowed suspicious eyes. He wanted to
instinctively trust those attending the memorial in uniform but even
they had his fur rising instinctively. All but his old friends like
Valenko and Hurranna.
The
bear hadn't stayed long; he'd popped in then had to pop right back
out. Duty called, Jethro thought, proud that his friend had gotten
promoted to O-5 Captain Senior Grade and was the ranking Marine
officer in the star system. He had his work cut out for him though,
Colonel Forth had resented the Navy's insistence on running Marine
officers from ROTC and college to the academy without going to boot
camp as tradition as his principles dictated. He had turned Pyrax
into a dumping ground of half trained screw ups, malcontents, and
those who had risen through the ranks past their abilities. Now
Horatio needed to get his house in order before turning it over to
the new administration. So the Colonel had saddled Valenko with the
house cleaning.
Jethro
wished he could be of more help, not simply handling admin duties for
the bear. He hated that he was still on light duty pending full
medical clearance. Clearance that was dragging its feet as usual. And
since JAG and military intelligence was also involved... he fought to
keep his tail still. He also kept himself sternly in check. Snarling
or exposing his claws wasn't wise in this group he reminded himself.
There
were speeches from various people, and even a couple local
celebrities in attendance. M'wvekii was there, but she was swamped by
people so he couldn't talk to his aunt like he would have liked. She
did look good in her sarong. Serene, composed, and very much grieving
for the Matriarch. The Neopanther did his best to stay in the shadows
away from the worst of the grievers and chest beaters as well as the
celebrities and the cluster of hanger-ons that followed them around.
M'wvekii
took charge of the memorial as master of ceremonies. She kept
everyone brief and on topic. She guided them through a tour of the
Matriarch's long life and her good deeds and then asked that they all
remember her wisdom and do their best to follow in her footsteps.
Jethro nodded when her eyes fell on him. The leopardess nodded back
and flicked her ears once to him.
Near
the end of the memorial a pair of representatives of a clan of cat
changelings came to him. “I'm sorry about your loss Gunnery
Sergeant... McClintock,” the female said, lashing her tail. He
nodded politely. Cat changelings were an odd bunch. They had a mostly
human body but a feline mods like heads, ears, eyes, claws, and
tails. The mods were a variety, some had blended human and animal
features, others were more cat than human. Sometimes they interbred
with true Neos but many kept to themselves in tight knit clans. He
was fairly certain Doctor Thornby was aware of how inbred they were.
They
moved with lithe grace like a cat but they looked... wrong. “She
will be missed,” the female said, turning to the Matriarch's
portrait. He glanced at her profile. She was a tawny brown but with
short fur on her body and a full head of long tresses on her head.
She wore a black gown with a silk wrap. A black collar was around her
throat with a tiny silver bell attached at the center under her chin.
He recognized it, it was a common sight among some Neocats and dogs.
The females loved the bell for some odd reason.
“That
she will be,” Jethro said softly. He'd missed Hrris's memorial.
That bothered him. He was grateful that someone had dug out a small
picture of the neolion and had put it next to his grandmother. “And
Hrris too. They didn't deserve that sort of death,” he said.
“No
one does,” the female said, looking at the smaller portrait and
then away. She sniffled.
Jethro's
eyes went vacant as he remembered his grandmother. She hadn't been
truly related to him by blood but he had loved her as a grandmother
anyway. Many of the Neos and apparently many of the other people here
had done the same. He wondered how many had been raised by the
elderly Neolioness. Quite a few, he thought, eyes briefly touching on
a familiar lynx shape wending its way through the crowd before he
looked away.
“They
got them though. Or I heard you did,” the female said, interrupting
his thoughts.
“Oh
yes. Yes I did. Hrriss was with me actually, they... well, I can't
talk about it,” he said lamely as Bast hissed softly on his HUD. He
flicked his ears. “Open investigation,” he said when the female
eyed him.
She
nodded. “Look Gunny... can I call you Gunny?” He flicked his ears
and nodded slightly. She seemed relieved for some reason. “Look
Gunny, we need... we need your help. Ordinarily I wouldn't dream of
bothering you at this delicate time but...” she flicked her hands
and ears.
Her
partner growled softly. He looked at the male. He had the look of a
domestic with his tuxedo coat of black and white. But his ears
weren't on the top of his head they were on the sides and shaped more
like a humans. He eyed the panther then looked away. “She was
helping us,” the tomcat rumbled.
“Yes.
Which has left us rudderless at a critical moment. She mentioned your
name and said you were helping to fund people like us who wish to
emigrate but can't.”
“I
see. Are you being forced to stay?” Jethro asked.
“Oh
no, it's not that,” the female replied with a shake of her head.
“Far
from it. They'd love to turf us all out,” the tom growled softly.
His growl alerted a few people nearby. They looked up or turned their
ears to their conversation. He looked around and then shook himself
slightly.
“We...
we could use all the help we can get. We've got kits. They deserve a
better future than here...” the female said, touching Jethro's arm
imploringly.
“I
don't know what I can do. I'll see if I can talk to someone. See if I
can help that way. I can't make any promises though,” Jethro said.
The
female's startlingly bright blue eyes searched his for a moment then
she nodded. Her upper lip twitched as if she was twitching her
nonexistent whiskers. “Thank you.”
“No
promises,” the tom echoed in annoyance.
“We'll
take what aid we can,” the female said with a tart rejoinder over
her shoulder to her companion. The tom grunted. The female smiled a
tight lipped smile to Jethro and then adjusted her wrap. “I heard
Agnosta is nice.”
“It
is that. The quickest way to get there is either to sign on to the
Marines or get in with a military contractor,” Jethro said
thoughtfully. He eyed the tom. He looked like he could serve but from
his expression he had no interest. He put him firmly out of mind.
“Barring
that, you could get a ride if someone was attached to you. You could
get transport as a military dependent of someone being transferred
there or through the system to elsewhere,” Jethro offered.
“I
see,” the female said, adjusting her shift. “I wish we could take
notes,” she said, smiling slightly to Jethro.
“The
only other way to go is to pay for passage. Since the military is
sending ships back and forth twice a week now I believe the ticket
price has dropped considerably,” Jethro said. Bast flashed the
credit cost on his HUD, and then put up the cost from a month ago.
“It's dropped by nearly half since last month,” he offered.
“I
didn't know that,” the female said, lightly stroking his arm with
her fingertips. He looked down and noted that her claws were more
like fingernails than feline claws. She also had long human like
fingers and hands. When she realized he was looking she stopped and
dropped her hand with a mew.
“We
really must be going,” the tom growled from behind her, taking her
by the arm. Jethro opened his mouth to object but the female just
smiled slightly to him.
“Another
time perhaps,” she purred.
“You'd
better not Marishka,” the tom growled, just loud enough for Jethro
to overhear. “Behave,” he growled warningly.
“He
knows I love to see him jealous,” the female purred with a light
tinkly laugh as she let him pull her away. Jethro sniffed in
appreciation, finally realizing she was using some sort of perfume or
something else.
“You
could also work your passage,” Jethro said lamely, loud enough for
them and others near to overhear. She turned and wiggled her fingers
in a goodbye.
Hurranna
saw him talking with them and came over to his side as one by one the
changelings left. “They finally decided to shit and get off the
pot?” She asked near the panther's elbow, nodding her chin to the
departing female.
“What's
that supposed to mean?” Jethro asked; turning and looking down to
the Neolynx. She was dressed as he was, in her formal Marine dress
blues.
Hurranna
flicked her ears in a shrug. “Oh the usual, shit or get off the
pot. Figure it out. I've heard of them. Tom, Dick, Harry, Mariska and
the others. They can afford to get here for the funeral but can't
afford to leave the star system.” She shook her head in disgust.
“The matriarch was after them to leave their colony. Now they want
to do so and want transport. Plus money to help set them up wherever
they end up.”
Jethro
groaned. “Oh lovely. I'm not a bank!” He growled. Apparently
because he helped out people some of them saw him as a target, an
easy mark to go to with a sob story. He shook his head, fighting to
keep his temper in check. “But they don't need it! They can stay!”
“Exactly,”
the lynx said in a dust dry response. “It's not your problem,”
Hurranna insisted. “Nor ours. They made their beds, let them lie in
it. They were offered help before but they dragged their feet.”
“No,
we can help them,” Jethro insisted. “If they want help, we can do
it. It's what she would have wanted us to do.”
Hurranna
winced. “You would say that.”
“Well,
it's true. And you know it,” he said.
She
snorted. “Okay, genius, how?”
“'I'll
think of something,” Jethro said with his own ear flick. “We've
got time now.”
“True.”
“Are
you still stuck in...” Hurranna grimaced. “Crap. I've got to go.
That was my implants,” she grimaced as she wolfed down a replicated
tuna snack she'd picked up from the hors d'oeuvres table nearby. She
chased that down with a slug of water. “We'll catch up later. I've
got another day of leave coming to me next week.”
“Count
on it. See you soon,” he said. She nodded and left at a trot for
the nearest exit. He watched her go.
He
toyed with the thought of using military transport to get the group
out. In theory he or another Marine could marry someone like Mariska.
They would then get the free pass to Agnosta or whatever posting he
ended up at, then they could get a no fault divorce on the other end
and wash their hands over the whole affair. He wouldn't take
advantage of her, though he wasn't sure he could deny her charms if
she turned... insistent let's say, he thought with a grin. Bast eyed
him on his HUD with disfavor. Obviously she was getting something
from that train of thought. He let it die a natural death.
Another
method was to get them in and out one at a time under military
transport as someone interested in joining up. He didn't like that
idea though, it was tantamount to unlawful in his eyes so he set the
thought aside right away.
Then
he had another thought. How could he get them and others to the annex
in the first place? They obviously couldn't go to the annex itself,
they didn't have clearance. But they had to get here... he frowned
thoughtfully as his mind raced. Mariska and her partner had obviously
gotten here, so they could make it this far. But a group? Stage them
through a nearby colony before they got to Anvil... Would that work?
“Mariska,
where have I heard your name before,” he murmured. Silently Bast
put up an ad for him to look at. His eyes scanned it. The female had
traveled to Anvil after being offered a job on the station to replace
Hrriss. She had accepted when she had heard the Neo/Alien law had
been in the process of being nullified.
“She's
got enough money then. One month, maybe two at her job and she'd have
enough for a ticket off of Anvil to Agnosta. Or money to get her
friends and family to Anvil in small groups,” he growled softly.
According to the footnote in the article the female had held out for
more perks until Anvil's administration had started to shop for
someone else. Jethro shook his head. He wasn't sure where Bast had
dug that little tidbit up.
“She's
obviously looking a gift horse in the mouth,” he said. Bast nodded.
“And trying to take advantage of me. Thanks for watching my back,”
he said to her. She flicked her ears and then went back to watching
the crowd as it slowly dispersed.
<(>~^~<(>
