Tyche's Fury: Tyche Origins, #4

By Richard Parry

Someone wants to hire October Kohl. First mistake.

Trypso is a below average world filled with below average people. October Kohl wants off the crust and away from the wannabe Yakuza there.

When the crime syndicate contacts Kohl with an opportunity to be free of both them and Trypso, Kohl jumps at the opportunity. The job's easy money: deliver a package to another planet. Get paid. Then grab a beer.

When a rival gang gets his scent, Kohl must make an unlikely alliance with the captain of an ex-war heavy lifter. If they can't get along, everyone's dead for sure. If they manage not to kill each other, the prize is riches and freedom. What could go wrong?

Tyche's Fury is the fourth story in Richard Parry's gripping Tyche Origins hexalogy. If you like page-turning space opera with great dialogue and heart-pumping action, grab your copy. Also in the Tyche Origins collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mondegreen
• Release date: Dec 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995109032

Book preview

Tyche’s Fury

Tyche’s Fury

A Space Opera Adventure Story

Richard Parry

Mondegreen

Contents

Get On The List

A Saki Deal

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

About the Author

Also by Richard Parry

Glossary

Acknowledgments

EXCERPT: TYCHE'S GRACE

A War of the Mind

TYCHE’S FURY copyright © 2018 Richard Parry.

Cover design copyright © 2018 Mondegreen.

---

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9951090-3-2

---

First edition.

Future Forfeit Reading Order

No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission. Piracy, much as it sounds like a cool thing done at sea with a lot of, Me hearties! commentary, is a dick move. It gives nothing back to the people who made this book, so don’t do it. Support original works: purchase only authorized editions.

---

While we’re here, what you’re holding is a work of fiction created by a professional liar. It is not done in an edgy documentary style with recovered footage. Pretty much everything in here was made up by the author so you could enjoy a story about the world being saved through action scenes and clever dialog. No people were used as templates, serial numbers filed off for anonymity: let’s be honest, October Kohl couldn’t be based on anyone real. Any resemblance to humans you know (alive) or have known (dead) is coincidental.

Published by Mondegreen, New Zealand.

Get On The List

Want updates from Richard Parry? Sign-up and get a welcome bundle at https://www.mondegreen.co/get-on-the-list/.

Welcome Bundle Titles Banner

Find out more about Richard Parry at mondegreen.co

For Matt. Of course.

A Saki Deal

"You’re saying some asshole wants to hire me," said Kohl. It came out as more of a shout than a whisper, drawing a few eyes. Kohl ignored those eyes. No law against self-expression, not here in the glorious new Republic. If they were keeping score, the people around him should be arrested for their clothing choices. Neon green jackets. Neon pink hair. Neon everywhere. Some fool was even drinking saki the color of coral not two tables back.

Shig looked at him over saki, eyes focusing about as well as expected on account of the bottle between them being two-thirds empty. No, he said. Kohl? You threw your net. This is what you dragged in. Shig had dressed down a little this evening, his usual five-thousand coin suit replaced by a silk shirt over white pants. The shirt was long enough to cover the tattoos on Shig’s arms. The man was covered in ‘em, but Kohl figured that was just par for the course when dealing with Yakuza. Kohl himself was dressed in relaxed cargo pants and a jacket that would take kinetic rounds as easy as rain. Wouldn’t do shit against blaster fire though, but they were drinking saki, not starting a gang war. Hell, Shig hadn’t even brought a weapon with him, which Kohl figured on being careless in his line of work, but whatever. His funeral.

The bar was about three meters wide and about twenty long. It was full of people drinking saki, it being a saki bar and all. Lavadome. Hell of a name, but Shig had said it was the second best bar on Trypso Beta, and with the best bar on the other side of the planet, here they were. Kohl didn’t much like saki, but it served a purpose, in this instance getting Shig drunk enough to share a detail or two that might help Kohl land a contract to get off this rock. Also, Shig was paying, and in Kohl’s short set of rules for navigating the clouded waters of his life, turning down free booze was up in the top five of shit not to do.

Kohl sighed, dropped another shot of saki back like it was free, and refilled his glass. The problem with drinking saki with Shig was that he wanted to go to asshole bars with asshole glasses the size of a thimble. It was like they wanted to set an additional expert-level challenge: get drunk a mouthful at a time! Fine. Challenge accepted. I know I threw my net. I hate this fucking planet. He pointed at Shig with his glass. It’s got people like you on it.

Shig blinked, like he was trying to work out whether that was an insult. What?

So, anyway, said Kohl. He pushed dreads out of his face. I need a ride out of here, and it so happens your boss wants to hire me. Your gang lord boss.

"Hayashi-san is an independent businessman," said Shig.

Independent businessmen need hired muscle? said Kohl.

I work in acquisitions, said Shig, slurring the last word. Aquisishionsss. The Demon Crocodile Company—

The what now?

Demon Crocodile Company, said Shig.

You work for an asshole who named his gang the Demon Crocodile Company? said Kohl. "I thought you worked for the Yak. Hell, you are the Yak."

New branding. Renamed, but yeah. Shig frowned. "I mean, I think they left things out of the recruitment briefing. They’re not real Yakuza. They’re back on Earth. But you make do with what you’ve got, right?"

You want to get off this rock too?

A little bit, admitted Shig. I’ve been having doubts about my life choices.

You meet a girl? Kohl figured you didn’t leave the Yakuza, fake or not, on a whim. It had to be serious, which meant girls or liquor. Standard distribution suggested girls.

No girl, said Shig. Just, you know. Assholes.

Kohl had worked for a few assholes in his time, and he felt the stirrings of something that might be empathy. What’s the job? he said.

Easy money, said Shig.

Kohl held up a hand. I’m gonna stop you right there. Anytime someone says, ‘Kohl, this job is easy money,’ my price goes up.

We haven’t set a price, said Shig.

Whatever we agree on, it’s going up, said Kohl. Principle of the thing, you get me?

Shig sighed. It’s better if you meet the boss. Decide for yourself.

How long we known each other, Shig?

Shig thought that one through, lips moving. He blinked owlishly, saki at the helm. I figure about three years.

I figure that too, said Kohl. In all that time, you’ve played a straight game with me. It’s why you’re not in a recycler. He slugged his saki back, winced, and tapped on the table’s surface to bring up a menu. Saki, saki, and more saki. Didn’t these fuckers sell beer? Ah. There. He keyed an order in for Trypso East Lager while Shig scowled at him. What?

We ever cross swords—

Nah, said Kohl.

But—

No, not that either, said Kohl. He rolled his shoulders. "Remember who it was who