In some ways, he was. In others, he held the future of the Federation in his hands.
* * *
After the drop ship’s rear ramp descended, Terry and Char walked off, hand in hand. Dokken bumped past their knees as he ran onto the station.
Terry’s leg buckled, but he caught himself. He was angry only for an instant. “Note to self, let the dog go first.”
Char chuckled. “I wonder what Felicity had to do to get Ted to join her.”
“Judging by the look on his face, it was either one inch of fingernail embedded in his arm or constipation,” Terry whispered.
Felicity tipped her head down and raised her eyebrows.
“For the record, Ted came of his own free will because that’s what first couples do when greeting their most important guests,” Felicity lied smoothly, before breaking into a wide smile. “You look radiant!”
Ted opened his mouth, but Felicity elbowed him in the ribs. He closed his mouth and resigned himself to his fate.
Terry and Char both laughed loudly. Felicity’s smile disappeared and suddenly Ted seemed interested. A blue, stalk-headed, turtle-shelled, stubby-legged alien ambled from the shuttle pod with a small, bald humanoid by his side.
“I need you to work with Smedley to figure out how to integrate a comm chip with Bundin’s neural cortex,” Terry said. “Only Joseph can talk with the Podder now, and that needs to change if he’s going to be an integral member of the Bad Company. And this little guy here is Ankh, and he’s going to work with you.”
“I work alone,” Ted said with a dismissive wave. Felicity released Ted’s arm so he could approach the Podder. Ankh’s expression didn’t change.
“He’ll warm up to you, little buddy,” Terry told the Crenellian. Ankh looked blankly at the colonel.
“It’s plenty warm in here already. Very pleasant, mind you,” he replied in a monotone.
The rest of Terry’s inner circle worked their way from the shuttle. The werewolves and weretigers waved and greeted Ted and Felicity warmly as they passed. Members of the Bad Company had permanent quarters on Keeg Station and they were heading for their bunks to change before availing themselves of the station’s nightlife.
The New Yorkers were jonesing for a good party. They’d had a small taste on Onyx Station, but had chosen to spend most of their time shopping. Shonna, Sue, and Char, the werewolf pack, had new dresses that they couldn’t wait to wear. Char would drag Terry Henry along, even though he wouldn’t want to go.
Char smiled at Felicity and started pulling Terry away. “Ted, Ankh, and Bundin, you guys better get to it. We leave tomorrow on our next mission.”
“That means we need to make the most of tonight, TH! Come on, jagoff!” Timmons yelled over his shoulder.
“He’s talking to you,” Char clarified.
“I gathered.” Terry smiled.
The debacle of Tissikinnon Four weighed heavily on his mind. He knew they needed to leave for Alchon Prime, but he didn’t want to throw the War Axe into the middle of something they couldn’t get out of. Force of will alone wouldn’t be enough to survive a space battle. The War Axe was a destroyer and the alien ships appeared to be more substantial, as well as more numerous.
He didn’t like the odds. Joseph appeared before him, brows furled as he studied the bags under Terry’s eyes.
“I’ll give them a hand, TH,” Joseph offered as he put a hand on Bundin’s shell and laughed as he and the Podder shared an inside joke. “Petricia and I aren’t up for shaking a leg in the station hotspot.”
The female vampire nodded slowly from behind Joseph.
Terry and Char’s children and their spouses stood to the side. Marcie rolled her finger, suggesting it was time to pick up the pace.
“Where’s the party, Felicity, and when?” Char asked.
“Third level at seven. We close everything down at one in the morning because I can’t have my crews handling what they handle without any sleep. Did you know, they have a hangover pill? What a great new world we live in, don’t you think?” Felicity drawled.
“Hangover pill equals great new world,” Terry repeated slowly. “I can’t disagree. If I’m to judge by the hairy eyeballs that everyone is giving me, it looks like I’ll be putting on my dancing shoes.”
As one, the group looked down at Terry’s combat boots.
“Fine. They’ll look just like these because this is what I’m wearing.”
“Shopping?” Felicity said. Ted rolled his eyes. Dokken started barking at something.
“Everybody get to work! Party starts at seven. See you at Seymour’s,” Felicity yelled with her hands cupped around her mouth. Char, Cory, Christina, and Felicity locked arms as they strolled from the hangar bay.
Ted was fully immersed in studying the stalk-headed alien. Ankh was engrossed in Ted’s seemingly disparate questions.
Kimber and Kaeden waved the others away as they waited for the inbound drop ships that would deliver the rest of the platoon. Terry ambled over, but they shooed him away.
“Fine,” he blurted. Terry tried to hold his head high as he walked from the hangar bay. Everyone had their missions because he’d done his job and properly delegated.
“Why didn’t you just go shopping?” he asked himself, before sneering his reply. “Because I proudly still carry my man-card, that’s why!”
He decided to stop by the manufacturing facility to check on the latest Jean Dukes Specials in addition to the new mech suits.
As soon as Terry had boarded the War Axe following the Tissikinnon Four operation, he told Kaeden to order suits for every member of the Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch.
Just in case they needed to deliver justice with extreme prejudice.
Chapter Two
“Come on,” Terry whined. “These look like something a gigolo would wear!”
“How many gigolos have you ever known?” Char shot back, holding out a pair of stylish leather shoes she’d purchased. She shook the shoes, expecting Terry to take them.
“None!” he replied, thrusting his chin in the air. “I avoided them because they were wearing shoes like that.”
She looked at him from under her brow. “That’s your logic?” she asked, although it wasn’t a question. “Just put them on.”
Terry ripped off his uniform shirt and flexed for his wife. He started to gyrate his hips, dipping his shoulders to a discordant beat that only he could hear.
“If you go dancing with me, we can get naked later because dancing does it for me,” Char explained, watching him with one eyebrow raised.
“This dancing doesn’t?” Terry said as he resumed his syncopated rhythm.
“It only worked on me because I would do anything to get you to stop,” she said, standing, putting the shoes on the table in front of TH, and slowly unbuttoning her blouse.
“All these years and the truth finally comes out,” Terry said, smiling as he watched his wife undress. His mouth salivated uncontrollably, forcing him to swallow often.
“You’ve always said you were a horrible dancer. I thought my agreement wasn’t needed. The sky is black and filled with stars. Statements of fact don’t need corroboration, do they, lover? What will it take to get you to dress up and go dancing with me?” Char asked as piece after piece of clothing fell to the floor.
Terry tried not to leer, settling for closing his eyes and sighing. “You win, which means that in the end, I win,” he said softly, opening his eyes in time to see a naked Charumati preparing to press against him.
* * *
“We have a chip, a Pod Doc, a willing subject, and one of the best computer systems in the galaxy,” Ted narrated matter-of-factly. He wasn’t prone to hyperbole. In his mind, everything he stated was factual.
“I would be more than happy to assist you in this endeavor,” a pleasant sounding artificial intelligence offered. The sound filled the room. On one screen, there was an image of a man wearing a white robe, clasped at the shoulder with a gold device beari
ng the logo of the Bad Company. His black, curly hair framed a distinctly Greek face.
“I knew you would, Plato,” Ted answered without taking his eyes from his data screen.
“You named your AI Plato?” Joseph asked.
“He was looking for a name. Those people at R2D2 had no imagination,” Ted replied.
“Aren’t those people here now?” Joseph asked.
“Only a few. The rest will be along in another month,” Ted replied, still studying the data. “We’re changing some of the parameters, but without seeing the neural patterns, everything is a guess. Can you tell him to get into the Pod Doc?”
Joseph communed with Bundin, and the Podder climbed into the modified device. It didn’t have a bed like they normally did.
“It has an extension to accommodate all manner of creatures,” Ted answered the unasked question.
Bundin settled in, but shuffled nervously as the hatch closed around him. He had to duck his stalk-head sideways to fit. Joseph winced as the door compressed his friend, sealing him inside.
“Can you hurry it up, Ted?” Joseph pleaded. “I’m not sure what an angry Podder can do inside one of those things.”
Ted made two adjustments. “There. That should put him to sleep for the procedure.”
“I am extracting a DNA sample,” Plato reported. “Analysis complete. Building a profile. Profile complete. Programming the nanocytes. Injecting the nanocytes. Tracking progress…”
Joseph turned to Petricia.
“That fast?” she asked.
“Fascinating,” Ankh said as he watched over Ted’s shoulder. He pointed to a series of code as it scrolled down the screen. “What is this string here for?”
“Nice catch,” Ted said, watching it scroll. He grabbed the series of instructions and copied them over to a second screen. “This is to align the nanos. The DNA is different from a human’s, but that’s not a problem. Each non-human will have this as part of the nano-programming that converts the brainwaves into something that can then be interpreted by the established translation program.”
“So the nanos translate all languages into a single standard and shares that into the individual’s preferred language as well as takes the individual’s language and turns it into the one standard for dissemination to others.” Ankh didn’t nod. That wasn’t a Crenellian mannerism. To the casual observer, the alien remained stoic.
Ankh studied the line of code intently. Ted approved.
Joseph tapped his foot impatiently, while Petricia tried to keep him calm.
Ted continued working the computer, talking with Plato as if collaborating with an old friend. The AI continued to adjust the system in accordance with what he and Ted agreed to. They talked fast and in code, not using spoken English to communicate. It worked for them, and it made Ted feel at home.
The War Axe
Captain Micky San Marino looked from one department head to the next. The four of them and Micky occupied the captain’s briefing room. None of them had been allowed to go ashore for leave.
At least not right away. They had a main weapon that needed to be fixed, along with structural repairs that couldn’t be done overnight. Next to Keeg Station was the lattice skeleton for what would become a major shipyard, but that was it.
The War Axe would have to make do with the best repairs that Keeg Station was capable of in its current fledgling state.
“Highest priority is the weapon, correct?” Commander Blagun Lagunov asked.
“We know we can fly with our current structural repairs, but do we want to take the Axe into combat? Do we want to do it lacking fifty percent of our firepower?” the captain asked.
“Engines are operating nominally,” Commander Suresha reported and leaned back. She had nothing further to say.
“What do you think, Mac? Any systems issues that we need to build into the work plan besides getting the gravitic shields back online?” Micky stroked his chin as he looked at the group. A holographic projection of the repair schedule had appeared above the conference table. It was already integrated with concurrent and sequential tasks.
It wasn’t lost on any of them that the repairs would take four times as long without an operational shipyard.
Micky nodded, putting words to what everyone was thinking. “At least we can make the repairs.”
“We’ll need to run the mains through a series of operation and alignment tests once the starboard system is repaired,” Commander MacEachthighearna replied. “And the gravitic shields are hosed. They have been since we left dock. They keep phasing out, making them useless.”
“Can we align the mains while we’re underway?” the captain asked. He knew the answer, but wasn’t sure that the others did.
“Yes and no. We need confirmed firing and target points in order to best calibrate the ones and zeros. There’s a firing range in the asteroid belt. I strongly recommend we use it. We don’t want our targeting system to send a mass of super-heated plasma where we don’t want it to go.”
Commander Oscar Wirth, the ship’s logistician, reclined in his chair, swiveling back and forth as he watched the others vie for more time.
“A gravitic genius is on that station right now, maybe we can get his help to fix the shields. They would come in handy. Smedley, get me Colonel Walton, please.”
There was a short delay before the screen came up showing Terry Henry Walton toweling himself dry after a shower. Micky cleared his throat. Terry was vigorously drying his shock of dark brown hair before he stopped and turned.
“Hey, Micky, how’s it hanging?” Terry asked nonchalantly.
“Great, TH. You know that we’re all here, right? Watching you. All of you,” Micky said slowly, enunciating each word.
“Shit! Smedley, you sandy little butthole! Why did you connect us when you knew I just finished my shower?” Terry wrapped the towel around his waist as he turned and yelled off-screen. “Don’t come out here, Char! The captain and his voyeurs are all eyes.”
Micky shook his head and started to rub his temples. “The only reason I called was to tell you that it looks like we’re going to be here for a week. We need to make repairs, much better than we can do in just one day if we’re going into space combat. We’ll get blown to the stars if we try it in the condition we’re in. The main weapon is three days and then another half day to calibrate it. Structural repairs are five full days concurrent with the working on the main. And we need your man Ted to help with the gravitic shields. We’ll tap the station’s manpower. The station director has already confirmed that all assets will be diverted until the Axe is back up to speed.”
Terry sat in front of the comm system. “That puts Alchon Prime one day beyond when they start running out of food. I doubt we’ll be able to resolve the situation the instant we arrive, so we better load up with extra food and maybe requisition a few transports loaded to the gills.”
Terry rolled his head on his shoulders. He caught the leather shoes out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t much feel like dancing, but worrying about everything outside of his control wouldn’t help either.
“Thanks for the update, Micky. Anything else you need from me?”
“When can Ted report to the War Axe to fix our gravitic shields?”
“I’ll check with his boss, and see what we can do. He’s working with Bundin, Joseph, and Ankh to install a communications chip. I have no idea how they’re coming, but if I know Ted, he won’t rest until it is done.”
“I’ll let you know if there are any changes, but this blockade has me worried, TH. I think we may need to unleash the full capability of the War Axe. I’m done fighting with one hand tied behind my back.” Micky signed off before Terry could stand up.
Terry looked at the blank screen. “Smedley, please give me a warning next time before turning on the video.”
There was no reply. Terry repeated his directive using his comm chip.
>>Of course, Colonel Walton. Please accept my most sincere apologies. I thin
k the captain will be scarred for life.<<
Terry cocked his head sideways as he continued to look at the blank screen.
You are such an ass monkey, General. You fit right in. Next time, let us know. If we’re going to have a peep show, we need to figure a way to charge people for it. I don’t work for free.
>>But you would, if anyone asked.<<
I would. You know me so well. You can be my business manager so I’m not giving this away for free. Terry dropped his towel and struck a variety of poses.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” Char asked, elegantly adorned in a slinky black dress.
“Getting dressed,” Terry replied without hesitation. He picked up his towel to hang it in the bathroom. He never liked a messy home. Char was less bothered by a few things laying around and almost seemed to prefer it.
She admired her husband’s physique as he strolled casually past, the towel thrown over his shoulder.
“When’s the last time you worked out?” she asked.
Terry laughed. It had been that morning.
But it wasn’t. He couldn’t remember. Yesterday? The day before that? “Goddammit!” he retorted as he checked himself over. “We should be hitting the gym and not the club.”
Char’s expression cooled. “Dancing is exactly what you need. You’ll find that it can be quite the workout,” she offered. He hesitated. “Stop thinking about it. You’re going because I’m not going alone, and I’m going.”
Terry nodded reluctantly.
“For Pete’s sake, you’d think I was taking the dog to the vet as miserable as you’re acting. You will have fun, Terry Henry, or by all that’s holy, you will sleep on the floor tonight.”
Terry perked up. “Where’s Dokken?”
* * *
Cory held out another piece of bistok jerky. Dokken took it gently from her hand before pulling it into his mouth and chewing slowly.
The Bad Company™ Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 22
