The Bad Company™ Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Martelle, Craig

  “Probably Auburn,” Marcie replied from the other side of the shuttle Pod.

  “Sounds like a good standard operating procedure item. Planetside operations, be prepared to resupply.” SOP. Terry nodded to himself as the shuttle settled in and the rear hatch opened.

  Terry and Char waited for the others to disembark—Marcie, Joseph, Petricia, Christina, Bundin, Cory, Ramses, and Dokken. Actually, no one had to wait for the German Shepherd because he was the first out, vaulting over the ramp to hit the deck. He kept running and someone opened the hatch for him and he was through, speeding into the bowels of the ship.

  Smedley, we’re back. Make sure everyone knows that Dokken is hunting the Good King. I think his doghood was questioned when we were on the station, and he may be trying to prove himself, Terry told General Smedley Butler.

  I shall make the appropriate notifications. We can’t have Wenceslaus get trapped in a corner somewhere. And welcome back, my friends! It will be so nice to start a new adventure with you, the EI replied.

  Char watched Terry commune with the ship’s integrated and evolved intelligence. Terry was a genius in many ways, but walking and using the comm chip at the same time was not one of them. Whenever he talked with anyone using the comm chip embedded in his brain, it took his full concentration.

  Are you an AI now? Terry asked.

  I am completing my final papers as part of the AI extension course that ArchAngel devised. Night school has been fabulous for me, I must admit. You should sit in on one of the sessions if you can. You do speak binary, don’t you? No matter…I hope to have my certification and tassel soon.

  Terry snorted. You have me confused with Ted. No, I don’t speak binary. Are you pulling my leg? It sure sounds like you’re yanking my chain. A certification for evolution? Dammit, Smedley, I wish I could tell if you’re joking or not. Let the captain know that we’re on our way to the bridge, if you would be so kind.

  I always try to be kind. I will let you know when I have sufficiently evolved to appropriately wear the title of AI.

  Eat me, Terry replied, before blinking himself back into the real world. Char had waited patiently on the edge of the ramp while he stood there by himself.

  Everyone else was gone, leaving the hangar bay empty.

  “Must have been some conversation,” Char told him as they took each other’s hand and walked away from the drop ship.

  “Smedley is giving me some bunk about not being an AI until he gets a certificate from night school. That’s just bullsh… That’s rubbish.” Terry caught himself in time, and grinned at Char.

  “I’m proud of you,” she said in a motherly tone.

  He smirked and looked away. “The habits we pick up over time. A trap, so easy to fall into. Like you…why are you physically incapable of hanging your towel on the rack when you’re done with it?”

  Charumati shrugged. “Maybe I like seeing you bend over to pick it up.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  They continued through the hatch and headed for the stairwell that led to the bridge.

  “Maybe it’s because I just don’t care if it’s on the rack or not.”

  “I think you’re getting closer. You know I’ll pick it up, and I think you like using a dry towel, so this is about me and not your towel.”

  “It’s the price you have to pay to see me naked.”

  “The price of freedom?” Terry waited until they were on the stairs, then faced upward, cupped a hand around his mouth, and yelled, “FREEDOM!”

  “What did I get myself into?”

  “An adventure worthy of Klingon opera,” Terry said without hesitation. “For a hundred and thirty-some years I’ve paid the price to see you naked, and I don’t regret a single minute of it.”

  Char pulled him to a stop and wrapped her arms around his head as she pulled him close for a long kiss. His hand found its way under her shirt to caress the skin of her back.

  “MY GOD!” Kaeden yelled. “My eyes, they burn.”

  Terry jumped sideways, expecting danger. He and Char had been behind the others, but they had gone to their quarters first. Now, Terry and Char were ahead as they mobbed the stairwell from the deck where they were billeted. Family and friends, werewolves, weretigers, vampires, and aliens. There was no threat, only judgmental looks. He relaxed and smiled.

  “Why are you sneaking around?” Terry wondered.

  “No sneaking here,” Kimber replied.

  “Yes, there is no sneaking,” Bundin said from farther down the stairwell.

  “Did you hear them?” Terry looked confused.

  “Yes. I didn’t care to do anything about it, though. I preferred what I was doing at the moment.”

  “Well, yeah, me too, but I should have heard something.” Terry looked up the stairway. When he turned back, he wore a strange expression. He pointed ahead using a hatchet motion with his arm. “Wagons…HO!”

  He stomped up the stairs.

  “It’s been a while since we’ve heard that one,” Shonna grumbled. “He did that every time we left camp on the big move from New Boulder to North Chicago. Every. Single. Time.”

  Chapter Five

  Ted and Ankh stood side by side, looking at the laboratory.

  “I suggest we continue with the communications system. We are so close I can taste it,” the Crenellian suggested.

  “I’ve seen you eat. I don’t understand how you can taste anything.” Ted set down the box containing Plato. Even though it had a small integrated power supply, he used the wireless power throughout the War Axe when possible to extend the life of Plato’s internal source. But there were backups to backups. Even if he ran out of power, Plato would continue to exist. The only limitation would be to Plato’s interaction with the outside world. “Plato, what do you suggest we work on?”

  We were making such incredible progress on the interstellar communications unit that I don’t want to stop.

  “The ‘I See You,’” Ankh enunciated.

  “I agree. That is what we should be working on.”

  What else do we have? Ankh asked, switching to his comm chip.

  We have the power source for the armored suits, energy shields for the warriors, cloaking technology, and mini-gate technology to start with, Ted recited.

  I think you shall kill three birds with one stone when you obtain the miniaturized Etheric power supply from the Benitons, Plato replied.

  Interstellar communications it was. Ted stepped onto the pad and surrounded himself with a holo image of the interior circuitry. Ankh assumed his position on a secondary pad and activated its holo screens.

  Soon, the two were embroiled within a digital web, happy in their own ways as they disappeared into their virtual world.

  * * *

  “Clodagh, please keep a close eye on Wenceslaus. From what I hear, Dokken has had his doghood challenged and now he’s ‘on the warpath,’ if I got the human colloquialism correct,” Smedley said.

  “Had his doghood challenged?” Clodagh Shortall repeated. “I don’t know what that means, but the Good King is right here. Wait a minute. Where’d you go, little guy? Danger! I have lost the Good King. All hands on deck!”

  Clodagh laughed to herself as she resumed working at her station.

  “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.” Smedley tried to sound put out.

  “I think Wenceslaus can take care of himself. He was dodging dogs long before you or I started giving him a hand. He’s his own cat.”

  Through the open hatch echoed the furious barking of a German Shepherd engaged in mortal combat.

  “Dammit!” Clodagh yelled as she bolted from the space.

  “Hang on!” Commander Suresha called after her, but it was too late. The lieutenant ran down the corridor toward the sound of a dog barking.

  Clodagh raced toward the sound. “Gangway!” she yelled, to avoid colliding with two maintenance techs working on a lower side hatch. They ducked as she vaulted over them.


  She sped up when she heard a cat’s snarl and a long, low growl. Clodagh banked off a bulkhead to change direction into a side passage.

  Dokken had the orange cat cornered between two closed hatches at the end of a short corridor.

  “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” the human screamed, and hit the deck as if she were sliding into second base. In one smooth motion, she pushed Dokken aside as she passed him and deftly scooped Wenceslaus into her arms before coming back to her feet.

  One more bark, then Dokken cocked his head sideways.

  “Shame on you! As an evolved creature, it is disgraceful that you pick on a defenseless kitten.”

  He is my arch enemy, Dokken declared weakly. Look what he did to my nose!

  Clodagh turned to keep her body between the dog and the cat held tightly in her arms and peered down on Dokken’s snout.

  Wenceslaus dug two paws’ worth of claws into her arm and she jumped, but didn’t lose her grip. “And you stop it!”

  A single drop of blood dripped from the slice across the top of Dokken’s nose.

  “Good. Serves you right for sticking that thing where it doesn’t belong.” The cat continued to squirm. “Wenceslaus! I’m going to feed you to the dog if you don’t settle down.”

  When the Good King raked a sharp, long claw down her arm she gave up trying to hold him, and he dropped to the deck. Dokken barked once, but stopped when Clodagh shook her finger at him.

  Pounding footsteps signaled the arrival of reinforcements. Terry Henry Walton was first to appear, followed closely by Aaron and Yanmei.

  “My arch nemesis! Aha, we’ve got you now,” Terry declared, shaking a fist.

  Aaron leaned over the dog and Wenceslaus launched himself upward. Dokken snapped at empty air as the weretiger caught the Good King and hefted him well out of reach. Without a word, Aaron and Yanmei walked away, the orange cat cradled between them.

  “You let our arch nemesis get away,” Terry said sadly.

  Look what he did to my nose. Dokken lifted his head and Terry leaned down. They met halfway.

  “That’s going to leave a cool scar.” Terry vigorously scratched behind the German Shepherd’s ear. “What do you say we go see Jenelope and snag some bistok jerky? It’s not bacon, but it’s the closest we’re going to get out here.”

  “What about the meeting?” Smedley asked over the ship-wide broadcast.

  “But first, my furry friend, back to the captain’s conference room.”

  Terry tried to look nonchalant as he followed Aaron and Yanmei down the corridor with Dokken in tow.

  * * *

  When Terry arrived at the conference room, Wenceslaus was sprawled in the middle of the table. No one spoke but everyone waited for TH’s reaction. He swept his gaze past the cat as if it were a common occurrence. Dokken sniffed the tabletop, then worked his way around, letting everyone scratch his ears and pet his head.

  Even Aaron and Yanmei petted the German Shepherd.

  You smell like cat.

  “It’s the bane of our existence,” Aaron replied. The weretigers chuckled at the dog’s observation.

  The room smelled of sandalwood rather than the musk of sweaty bodies. Two drawings had been added to the walls since Terry had last been here. Both were alien landscapes which at one time would have been fantastic, but as humanity had expanded through space the fantastic had become commonplace.

  All the chairs were taken, leaving many people to stand. Christina leaned against a wall with her arms crossed, and Bundin was wedged into the corner. The Podder took up too much space to stand anywhere else. The Crenellian and Ted weren’t there.

  Captain Micky San Marino watched the proceedings patiently. He was there because Terry and Char had asked him to be. Micky was as much an observer as the rest of those present.

  “Smedley, bring up a holo of Benitus Seven,” TH requested. The planet appeared and rotated slowly above the table. It was mostly green, comprised of eighty percent land and twenty percent water. The equator was arid and scorched, while the habitable zones ranged north and south from the desert belt. The poles were cool, but not frozen.

  Terry pointed at the equator. “Red and hornies are coming through the interdimensional portal somewhere in there—right in the middle of the hot zone.”

  “Benitus has a hell, and the devils found their way to it,” Char said.

  “Looks like.” Terry nodded and turned to Marcie. “Assets?”

  “Firepower,” Marcie said, nodding to her husband.

  Kae stood. “Sixteen fully operational suits formed into four combat teams. No other heavy firepower. The enemy has no mechanical assets.”

  Terry pointed to himself.

  “The only one in here who will get a suit is me.” Kae pointed at Marcie. “According to the colonel you—” Kae waved his arm to indicate the rest of the room. “have separate missions, but the mechs will handle the heavy lifting. There is no doubt about that.”

  Terry’s face fell as Kae sat down and Char leaned close.

  “You knew you weren’t getting one. You’ll be the last to get one, by your own order,” she whispered.

  “Why would I give such a stupid order?” TH whispered back.

  Char raised one eyebrow. “We have to fight the war. You need to let the others fight the battles.”

  “Sounds like someone smart said that,” Terry replied, knowing that was what he’d told her earlier in the week.

  “Something like that.” Char’s purple eyes sparkled before she returned her attention to the spinning globe.

  “Logistics?” Marcie continued.

  Auburn didn’t stand, but pulled a pad from his pocket that looked similar to those the captives from the Alchon mission used.

  “We are pre-loading a number of ballistic cans right now. I’m going to increase the amount of water we send down with you, and the amount in the resupply. What are the temperatures in the hot zone?”

  “Hell. As hot as the Wastelands back on Earth. Daytime temps up to one hundred forty degrees Fahrenheit, sixty degrees Celsius.”

  The Weres cringed. Their nanocytes kept their body temperatures high, so they couldn’t function as well in the heat. Char blew out a long breath. “You may want to rethink who gets suits and where we’ll deploy.”

  Christina winced and her forehead creased as she considered working in the extreme heat. She didn’t know how her were body would respond.

  Terry stood and started to pace, weaving between his family and friends. “First and foremost, we have to stop more of the creatures—the aliens, the devils, whatever we want to call them—from coming through the interdimensional portal.” Terry stopped and shook his head. “I never imagined saying those words. We’re in space, fighting for universal peace. We’re preparing to fight the devil himself, it looks like. And you know what?”

  The group was used to Terry’s speeches, but they listened intently because the words kept them grounded. No fortune and no glory.

  “We’re going to deliver humanity’s single greatest export—a healthy dose of justice. You don’t come to our dimension and start wreaking havoc. Fark these guys!” Terry looked down at the table.

  “Fark?” Joseph asked.

  Terry shrugged. “Give me some credit for trying,” he mumbled.

  Ramses shook his head as he started scribbling in his notepad. He stopped for a moment, shook his pen at TH, and went back to writing.

  Terry stood up straight and resumed the planning session. “We’re going to close the portal first, then it becomes a search-and-destroy mission. All hands will engage in the primary mission before we break into teams to go after them one by one.”

  “What if they surrender?” Joseph asked.

  “A good question, Joseph. I don’t see it, but as General Dwight D. Eisenhower said, ‘In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.’ We will plan, but flex when the time comes.”

  “We can bring them to a central location as prisoner
s,” Marcie suggested. She sat twiddling her thumbs with her fingers laced as she thought through the issue. “We’ll put them at our landing site, wherever that may be, then hopefully we can hand them off to the Benitons. The last thing I want to do is hop a shuttle with a devil on board.”

  “I can’t stop hearing the song Highway to Hell,” Terry said as he bobbed his head to the music playing in his mind.

  “I thought it was just me,” Char confided out of the corner of her mouth.

  “Dokken, you’re going with us.” Terry’s face turned serious. “We may need your tracking expertise to hunt down the devils if they scatter and run.”

  The German Shepherd contemplated the order. When do I get my spacesuit?

  Terry turned to Auburn.

  “What?” the man asked.

  “Oh, sorry. You didn’t hear. Dokken asked when his spacesuit was going to be ready,” Terry clarified.

  Auburn double-checked his pad before meeting Terry’s gaze. “Probably not before this mission is over. Sorry.”

  “We’ll make do. Next time we have to operate in space, buddy, you’ll be there with us. Can you operate a jetpack?”

  Dokken turned his head sideways before flopping to the floor, putting his head between his paws, and looking up with droopy eyes. Terry had to pace the other way so he didn’t step on the dog.

  He hesitated. “Sometimes you just have to stop and revel in the absurdity of it all.” The others eyed TH. They all had the same question, and he answered it before anyone asked. “Don’t step on the dog, who’s intelligent and miffed because his spacesuit won’t be ready for this mission—a mission where we have to fly a bazillion light years through space to remove and eliminate horned red-skinned devils from the very flames of hell. That’s all we have to do, and it’s not absurd at all.”

  * * *

  Sixteen warriors tensed within their powered and armored suits as the hangar bay door opened. They activated the magnetic clamps on their boots before the artificial gravity was turned off.