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

by Martelle, Craig

  Ted’s eyes unfocused as he communed with Smedley, and when the holographic screens came up Ted became embroiled in the advanced technology none of the others understood. Terry stood unmoving and Char joined him, seized his hand in both of hers, and watched the closed Pod-doc. Cory leaned against her father, while Marcie kept one hand on the shell.

  Kaeden was inside and something was wrong.

  Ted worked without comment as time dragged on.

  Chapter Seven

  Keeg Station

  “I feel like I’m in Heaven,” the man said. His eyes fluttered as he tried to focus on his surroundings. In addition to Timmons, three women stood around him in Keeg Station’s sickbay—Felicity, Sue, and a medical technician. Oddly, all three women had long blonde hair.

  Sue considered the man. “How do you know about Heaven?”

  The man’s eyes shot wide in panic. “It’s something we talk about where no one else can hear, but we imagine it like this. Angels looking down on us with the glory of the sun. When we get sent to space, we no longer see the sun of Home World.”

  Felicity’s expression softened at his words, and the man reached toward her.

  She slapped his hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Your hair is unique. None of the people have hair that color.” He reached toward her again, she slapped his hand away a second time.

  “Why do you think you’re here?” Felicity asked, shuffling out of arm’s reach. Sue followed her out of range.

  “Because that guy punched me in the face!” He tried to sound angry, but the Pod-doc had fixed his jaw while he was passed out. He hadn’t suffered throughout the ordeal.

  “Why do you think he punched you in the face?” Felicity pressed.

  The man looked away, shrugging and shaking his head.

  “Because of garbage like that. You’re trying to touch my hair because I’m different? How about you accept that there are differences and treat me with respect, like you would anyone else you worked with? When you sit around and talk about Heaven, are you touching each other?”

  Timmons bit his lip to keep from snickering, and Sue cast a warning glare his way since she was fighting it too.

  “I’ll be outside,” Timmons managed to say, jaw muscles working to stifle a laugh.

  “I’ll be with him.” Sue rushed after her mate, bumping into him when they tried to get through the door at the same time. Timmons patted her butt as she went through and then dodged when she took a swing at his hand.

  As the door closed behind them, Felicity rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the man on the gurney.

  He contemplated Felicity and the technician, but didn’t answer the question.

  “I’ll tell you why: because you don’t get it. What’s it going to take for you to understand?”

  “Women in our lives,” the man replied softly. As he looked at Felicity and the technician tears welled in his eyes, and one escaped and trailed down his cheek. He made no effort to wipe it away.

  “My name is Rowan.” The technician moved close, letting her hair dangle near his hand. “What’s yours?”

  He looked at her, confused for a moment, but his features softened as he smiled. “I’m Chris-bo-Runner.”

  “‘Chris Brenner.’ Is it okay if I call you Chris?”

  “Of course,” the man stammered. He nodded toward her hair, and she smiled back. He caressed it gently before rubbing a few strands between his fingers. “So soft.”

  “It’s just like yours.”

  He started to laugh. “It is not just like mine.” He removed his hand and held it up, palm open, as if to show that he didn’t take anything. “Women are not just like men, but respect for the angels that touch our lives? Yes, we should freely give that. Please accept my apologies. And I even apologize to the mean man who left.”

  “We’re far from angels, sweetie, but that’s a start,” Felicity drawled.

  “If you’d like to show him the station before he has to return to his ship, that would be okay.” Felicity waved and started walking away, but stopped and spoke as if talking to the door. “Someone will stay close.”

  Rowan offered to help Chris off the gurney, so he took her hand and hopped down. She grimaced and cried out, “Not so hard!”

  He let go and his mouth fell open. He stood perfectly still, shocked by his transgression. She took his hand.

  “Like this.”

  “I’ve never held hands with anyone before.”

  “I figured. Let me show you the wonders of Keeg Station. Will you have time for lunch before heading back?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to go back to the ship.” He hung his head. “I don’t want this moment to end.”

  “All moments end, Chris,” Rowan whispered. “What matters is what we do with the ones we have, and then what we do when we have more.”

  The War Axe

  The holo screens dropped. Ted rubbed his hands and started to leave, but Terry blocked his path.

  “You big bully!” Ted exclaimed.

  Char forced her way between the two. “You were going to leave without telling us what is going on? As your alpha, I demand that you tell us.”

  “Fine,” Ted said, raising his head to glare at the taller Terry Henry. “His nanocytes were infected with some kind of degenerative code. In biological terms, he had the flu. Once the malicious code was removed, his nanos went back to work, but they are taking an excess of energy from his body to repair the damage that they did while in their degenerative state. Repairing that is taking all his energy and making him weak right now.”

  “So he’s going to be fine?” Marcie asked, relieved.

  “Yes.” Ted tried to push Terry aside, but the colonel wouldn’t budge.

  “You’ll leave when I say you can leave,” Char said

  Ted leaned back and crossed his arms. “All these years, and I may have been wrong. I always assumed he was the bully first, but it appears that you may have been out-bullying him all along, Charumati.”

  Char’s eyes were starting to glow purple, which was an indicator of her anger.

  “Ted, if we’ve ever bullied you, we apologize. That being said, I as the alpha give direction to the pack. Period. If you were the alpha you’d give direction, and we’d listen and obey. It is our way. Maybe you think you’ve been bullied because we have gone farther and farther from the usual arrangement. I concede that you have your own life now and wish you the best with it, but there are still times—like now—where pack business takes precedent. If you would be so kind as to answer my questions, I would appreciate it. Will anyone else catch this nano disease?”

  Char spoke calmly, but clenched and unclenched her fists. She didn’t see how Kaeden had become afflicted in the first place, and she was afraid that the others would be susceptible.

  Ted uncrossed his arms. “I don’t know the answer to that. I thought you wanted me to deal with what was bothering Kaeden.”

  “Yes, of course, but now that he’s supposedly cured…” Char looked at the still-closed Pod-doc before continuing, “we need to make sure we’re not responding to another emergency like this later today or tomorrow for many of us at once. Imagine if this happened while we were on Benitus Seven, everyone with nanos going down? Do you know how many that is?”

  Ted nodded unemotionally. He knew exactly how many that was.

  “All of us,” Marcie whispered before finding her voice. “All of us! Please, Uncle Ted, fix this so it doesn’t happen again,” she pleaded.

  Ted shook his head. He didn’t want to take the time, but knew that he had to because he was Ted—the only one who could solve the problem. They needed him. Ted lifted his chin high and gruffly replied, “Okay.”

  He returned to his position, opened a holographic matrix, and got to work.

  “Have you notified Nathan?” Char asked.

  “Yes. He said his AI was linked with Smedley to get the raw data. I’ll update him with Kae
’s condition when we know more.”

  “With good news. We’ll update him with good news,” Char clarified.

  * * *

  The Pod-doc opened and Marcie hurried in. Kae’s eyes were clear, but he sat up slowly.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Your nanos got sick. You’ll need some rack time to recover,” Marcie told him as she held his head in her hands and peered deeply into his eyes. He winked at her and looked over her shoulder at his parents.

  “Hey, Mom!” he said weakly. “I’m naked.”

  Char and Terry both smiled and turned away so he could get dressed. The werewolves had never worried about anyone seeing them naked. It was a part of who they were, since the clothes didn’t transition with them to their Were forms. Kaeden had never fully embraced nakedness, even though he’d seen the pack, including his mother, without their clothes more times than he could count.

  With Marcie’s help, Kae dressed and then left what passed for the ship’s sickbay. Ted continued working.

  “We can’t start the mission until we know this thing isn’t going to bite us,” Terry said. “I want to see his suit. Maybe there’s something in it that can give us a hint where this thing came from. And where the hell is Ankh?”

  “He is working on the interstellar communication problem. Ted said he couldn’t let it languish at this critical juncture,” Smedley informed them.

  Char nodded darkly and followed Terry out.

  * * *

  Fitzroy circled Bundin. The Podder waved his tentacles, but didn’t need to rotate to keep the human where he could see him.

  The sergeant jumped forward, hopped off Bundin’s shell, and drove a solid front kick into his stalk. Two of the Podder’s tentacles whipped out and grabbed Fitzroy’s leg. They twisted and then spun, whipping Fitzroy in a spiral that ended when he landed in a pile on the floor.

  Bundin leaned forward to protect his soft underbelly before Fitzroy got back into the match.

  But Fitzroy wasn’t getting up. Joseph and Petricia stepped onto the mat and pulled the sergeant to his feet.

  “Hand-to-hand combat with aliens isn’t ever going to be straightforward,” Joseph said, looking at the warriors’ faces around the ring. “You have to find their vulnerabilities during the fight, and can have no preconceived notions. Did you see at the end how Bundin bent over when Fitzroy was on the ground?”

  Some heads nodded, but others hadn’t noticed Bundin’s subtle move.

  “Tell them why you did that.”

  “To protect my soft undershell. Had Fitzroy been able to get beneath me, I would not have been able to see him or protect my ears and brain from an attack. We have a very soft spot under there where our auditory sensor is located.”

  “And there you have it. Creatures instinctively protect their vulnerabilities, so you should look for it and exploit it.”

  “All while getting the snot kicked out of you,” Fitzroy added.

  “Yes, if you’re taking on an enemy one to one. I recommend you hunt in teams.”

  “Hunt?” someone said from the audience.

  “Yes. You all know my proclivity for using precise language. It’s a gift and a curse. In this case, I believe you’ll be hunting the interdimensional interlopers, since they are not armed like us. Our mechs could very well wreak havoc, and if so I would expect them to run. In that case they’ll have to be hunted, but what is the most dangerous thing you can face?”

  “A cornered and wounded enemy,” Fitzroy answered.

  Kimber stepped onto the mat.

  “These creatures look like bipeds, and they have two arms. They could fight just like us, or completely different. They have horns on their heads, so their skulls may be inordinately thick and well-protected. One advantage is our comm chips.” Kim tapped her head. “Whoever is first to fight one of these, share how you defeated it. There is no sense in each of us learning the same lesson. Smedley?”

  “Yes, Major Kimber? I standby to serve.”

  “How about if you consolidate the input from the platoon as they engage the enemy—assuming we’ll be conducting a search and destroy mission as the colonel believes.”

  “I will consolidate and disseminate, demonstrate my ability to concentrate, never equate that which we can dominate!” Smedley rapped.

  Kimber looked at Joseph and Petricia, who shook their heads. Aaron and Yanmei shrugged, and Christina pursed her lips and whistled, then said, “Smedley? Are you okay, buddy? All kinds of weird shit is coming out of your virtual mouth.”

  “I’m sorry, but Major Kaeden has been listening to some interesting Earth music from before the fall. I don’t think I have the hang of it,” Smedley replied.

  “No, and don’t do that again. It makes me think you’re going to have a seizure.” Christina twisted her mouth as if she was eating a lemon.

  “I’m not sure I can have a seizure,” General Smedley Butler replied.

  “I didn’t think my brother could get sick, either, but that happened,” Kim interjected.

  “Yes, and Ted has been magnificent as usual in tracking down and eliminating the virus. I will be scheduling everyone for time in the Pod-doc to upgrade their nanocytes when Ted gives me the go-ahead. It will be an inoculation.”

  “We’re getting a shot, people!” Kim called. Most had no idea what she was talking about. She only knew because of the stories that her adoptive parents Terry and Char used to tell.

  “A shot at what, the red devils? Just tell me where to aim!” a bold warrior said.

  “It may be as simple as that, or it may be orders of magnitude more complex,” Smedley replied.

  “Never mind. I’ll pick my own targets, and those bastards can stand-the-fuck-by. Say hello to my little friend! And the last word we’ll hear from them will be ‘Incoming.’” The man crossed his arms and looked smug.

  Kim slapped him on the arm as she walked past on her way to size up the platoon.

  “What did you hard-chargers learn today?” she shouted.

  “If you watch your enemy closely, he’ll show you where his vulnerabilities are.”

  Kim looked at Joseph, who smiled and nodded. She gave him the thumbs up.

  “What else?” she asked, turning slowly to see if anyone wanted to answer. She kept her hand on Bundin’s shell. The blue stalk-headed alien was becoming a friend to them all.

  “I suggest that we have gained a taste for winning,” the Podder offered.

  “What do you mean by that?” Kim asked, looking into the closest of Bundin’s four eyes.

  “An army that is worried about losing takes more care in the fight, doing what must be done to improve its chances. An army that expects to win may fail to take necessary risks.” Bundin waved two of his four tentacle-arms to add emphasis to his statement. The other two crossed, with hands folded in front.

  “Most profound, Master Podder,” Joseph said.

  “Are we resting on our laurels?” Kimber demanded, hammering a fist into her hand. “Are we taking the enemy for granted? I hope not, or you’ll feel the sting of my wrath!”

  The room was silent. “Have you been watching too much television lately?” Joseph asked as he stepped forward, held Kimber by her shoulders, and stared deep into her eyes. “They say that stuff will pollute your mind!”

  Kimber shrugged Joseph off. “Pollute my mind? Living with Auburn has polluted my sinuses, but that’s something completely different.”

  “I heard that!” Auburn yelled from the back of the room. He knew what she meant. Their first ten years together had been spent raising cattle, and the smell of the stockyards had been overwhelming at times.

  Christina snickered.

  “I never questioned my choices,” she called back.

  “No more TV for you!” he countered.

  “Good session, Joseph,” Kimber said quickly before they lost the attention span of the group for good. “Aaron and Yanmei, anything to add?”

  Aaron nodded and stepped forward. “Lao
Tzu taught that to become learned, each day one should add something. To become enlightened, each day one should drop something. He means you should rid yourself of the baggage that is weighing you down; the extra notions that are holding you back. If you approach this coming battle with an open mind you’ll flex more quickly. As Terry Henry Walton has taught us, the one who can decide what to do quickest is the one who wins the fight.” The weretiger bowed deeply to the platoon and returned to his place behind the ranks.

  Kimber contemplated what he had said, unsure if any of the platoon understood even though he had explained.

  “Bad Company, exporting justice. Platoon, dismissed.” Kimber patted Bundin’s shell as she watched the platoon break into smaller groups. Many continued their workout with free weights and weight machines, and others started stretching in preparation for running laps on the hangar deck. To make it interesting, they always increased the deck’s gravity to one hundred and fifty percent of normal.

  Fitzroy and one other worked their way to Aaron and Yanmei.

  “How does one clear clutter from the mind? Teach me, sensei.” Fitzroy had his hands together as if praying.

  The weretigers looked at each other. The Chinese didn’t say ‘sensei,’ but they knew what he meant. The edges of Yanmei’s mouth twitched upward and she nodded once.

  “We shall, padawan,” Aaron replied, choosing the word for student from the Star Wars lexicon.

  Everything was relative.

  “Meet us at nine tonight for your first lesson in meditation,” Yanmei instructed.

  Fitzroy almost argued, since showtime for morning calisthenics was at four, but caught himself and bowed slightly instead. “See you then.”

  Fitzroy and the second man strolled away, moving from warrior to warrior and providing encouragement as a platoon sergeant was supposed to do.

  Kimber joined the weretigers. “You have a disciple?”

  “It appears we do,” Aaron agreed. He wrapped an arm around Yanmei’s shoulders. “And now if you’ll excuse us, we need to figure out exactly what we’re going to do with him.”