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

by Martelle, Craig

  Chapter Eighteen

  Timmons looked at a screenful of specifications.

  A million metric tons of steel hung stationary in space, anchored by a gravity device that kept the random bits from floating away.

  All Keeg Station needed was rhyme, reason, and a driven workforce to turn the raw material into a space dock.

  “I don’t see why it won’t work.” Timmons continued to study the numbers.

  “It will if we can keep them going in the same direction,” Sue replied, watching her mate and not his project plan. They’d co-managed hundreds of projects that brought San Francisco back to life as a thriving center of commerce in the world after the fall, so she didn’t need to see his plan to know that it was sound. The only unknown was the workforce.

  “Have they changed? Will they work for us without causing any problems? Last thing we need to do is entrust a starship to them and have them sabotage it—not because they’re terrorists, but because—heaven forbid—they saw a woman!”

  Sue gently pulled on his chin so he’d look at her and not the screen. “Once they start on this and see the possibilities freedom gives them, I think they’ll blend into society rather quickly.”

  “The love of women is the root of all evil,” Timmons intoned.

  “I think that’s the love of money, dear.”

  “I heard a homeless guy on the boardwalk in Atlantic City say my version. I think he was onto something.”

  Sue straddled Timmons’ lap, but the chair protested the additional weight. He leaned back as her lips sought his, then flailed as the chair gave way and they tumbled to the floor.

  They weren’t bothered by the change of position, but their ears perked up when the hatch opened and someone walked in. They could see stylish shoes and shapely legs.

  Felicity peered down at them. “Don’t we have a shipyard to build?” she drawled, shaking a finger in their direction. “Werewolves and their libidos, God love ‘em.”

  Timmons winked at Sue and they climbed to their feet. “We have a plan,” he said, grinning.

  The War Axe in Orbit over Benitus Seven

  “What the hell? You bring your stinkfest to the chow hall?”

  Terry heard the voices from down the corridor. With idle curiosity, he looked for the speaker when the hatch opened and revealed that most of Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch was already there and eating.

  It wasn’t difficult to pick out the offended and the offender. One man had his arm raised and was using his hand to wave air from his armpit toward a second man, who was shaking a fist. One second later, the offended launched himself over the table. He sent trays flying as he landed, and the two fighters rolled to the deck.

  “STOP!” Terry snarled, and forced his way between the tables. He grabbed the man on top with both hands and picked him up, then kept lifting and turned as he bodily threw the warrior toward the hatch. The second man was wedged under the table, but Terry made quick work of him too. They both scrambled out the hatch, nodding to Kim and Kae as they bolted.

  Terry looked angrily at Kimber, but softened at the look on her face.

  Morale was fraying, hers included. That was why she’d gone to see Ted. All eyes were on Terry Henry as he turned back and surveyed the warriors and crew.

  “Well?” Ted demanded from the corridor. “Are we going to eat or not? I have work to do.”

  Terry held his hands up, although the mess deck was already silent. “Ted is going to bring the space station to life, then we’re going there on a liberty call! You might think that space station tried to kill us—and you’d be right—but it didn’t win, because we’re the Bad Company. We don’t take that kind of crap. This place will blow your mind with its three-hundred-and-sixty-degree holographic projections. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. I’ll even send my personal stock of beer with you. Treat it well!

  “While you’re there, we’ll be planning how to kick some demon ass. We’ll recover from the party, and then go planetside. We’ll hunt those bastards down and send them back to the hell from which they came. While we’re out here, we’re going to see what Ten has in store for us at Home World.

  “And then we’ll go home—to our new home, Keeg Station—where we’ll take some time off. We’ll take anyone who wants to travel the universe as a civilian to Onyx Station, where you can jump a transport and go on a real vacation. If you get arrested, you’re on your own. If you don’t, you’re not trying hard enough!”

  Get Ted and Ankh some damn chow and get him to work fixing the space station. I want that done today, Terry ordered over his comm chip. Marcie invited Ted and the Crenellian past the group and ushered them to the front of the line.

  “Libo! Libo! Libo!” Fitzroy started to chant and forty other voices joined him, including Terry and the pack. The colonel walked between the tables, high-fiving the warriors as he continued the chant. When he reached Fitzroy they grasped hands and shook, slapping each other on the shoulder.

  “What’s for lunch? I’m starving,” Terry declared. The chant turned into a cheer when Kaeden brought one of his old movies up on the screen—Patton. The crowd quieted as George C. Scott delivered his speech.

  Jenelope waved and Terry worked his way to the kitchen.

  “Yoga,” she said.

  TH looked down his nose at the ship’s therapist and didn’t answer.

  “You heard me.” Jenelope tapped a wooden spoon against her palm.

  “Sunsets and palm trees,” Terry replied.

  “Get them into yoga.”

  “We’re not doing yoga.”

  “Yoga.”

  “No.”

  Jenelope shook her spoon in TH’s face.

  “Maybe. But why?”

  “Your people are on edge—it’s been one death-defying act after another. You don’t think your exploits on the station were shared with everyone? What about the planet? Did you hear how much blood was inside Kaeden’s suit?”

  Terry shook his head.

  “Yoga.”

  “Fine.” Neither Terry nor Jenelope moved.

  “You’ll start with a session this afternoon, then?”

  Terry didn’t answer, and Cory appeared behind him. “I would love to lead a session this afternoon. Put it on the schedule, Dad. Thanks, J! You’re the best.”

  “You heard her. Put it on the schedule.” Jenelope returned to tapping her spoon.

  “Where did you find wood for your spoon?”

  Jenelope raised one eyebrow. Tap. Tap. Tap. The spoon continued its rhythm.

  Terry leaned over his shoulder and yelled, “FITZROY!”

  * * *

  “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else?” Micky asked.

  “We have a mission to plan,” Terry replied as he continued to drill into the imagery of the terrain around the Rift.

  Terry, Marcie, Kaeden, Christina, Merrit, and Dokken were the only others present in the captain’s briefing room.

  “Not into yoga?” Micky asked. The rest of the Bad Company were in the recreation room on their yoga mats.

  Terry closed his eyes and turned toward the captain. “Everything has its time and place. Right now, the best thing I can do with my time is plan this next operation. Based on what Kae and Merrit saw at the Rift, these things are coming through with great frequency. There could be hundreds of thousands of them already on Benitus Seven. How in the holy hell are we going to send them back? Can we kill that many? Can we line them up and shove them through? How are we going to resolve this?”

  Micky looked down at his lap. Despite the success of the negotiations with the Benitons Terry had returned carrying the burden of an injured son and an insurmountable task, and it weighed on him. For Terry Henry Walton, yoga wasn’t the answer.

  The captain wasn’t sure what the answer was, though.

  “My apologies, TH, for my ill-advised attempt at humor. I can’t fathom the task before you, but if there is anything the War Axe can do, build it into the plan and we’ll suppo
rt you.”

  “I can’t ask for better than that.” Terry sniffed. He smelled something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Dokken was lying on the deck at his feet, softly snoring. “Kae, what do you think about engaging them directly? Is that a fight we can win?”

  “No fucking way,” Kae answered, rubbing his ribs where the Skrima’s claws had penetrated. His subconscious rose to the surface, and he shivered as he remembered how close it had been. He had trusted his armor to protect him. The Bad Company wasn’t going to beat up little kids on the playground. The enemy had teeth and a way to use them.

  TH had expected an abrupt answer. “Merrit?”

  “The Etheric. They are obvious and vulnerable there, but so are we.”

  “Explain more about how they are vulnerable? We only need to convince them that staying in this dimension is hazardous to their health. Getting them to leave of their own accord would be optimal, it sounds like,” Terry replied.

  Marcie looked like she wanted to talk, so Merrit offered her the floor.

  “Working within the Etheric isn’t something we can do. Our biggest link is pulling power from the dimension into our own. The Benitons have mastered that technology, and I think we need their help to send the Skrima a message. Imagine if we were able to send an ear-piercing whistle through the Etheric straight into the brains of these creatures! Either they’d go on a murderous bender, or they find a way to make the ugly noise stop by going back through the Rift.”

  “Could they stay in our dimension as an escape from the sound or whatever we project?”

  “Yes, but then they’d be easy to kill.” Marcie leaned back.

  “There are too many of them,” Christina started. Terry leaned back as she took a breath to continue. “In your doctrine, the force multiplier was essential in overcoming a numerically superior enemy. Whether a bigger bomb or blowing a dam or using weapons of mass destruction, the military does what it has to in order to achieve its stated objective.”

  “Of course,” Terry replied, but Christina wasn’t finished.

  “Lines of communication. Logistics centers. Command and Control. These are an enemy’s innate vulnerabilities, yet with the Skrima we haven’t seen any signs of these potential targets.”

  “You’re starting to sound like me,” Terry said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Just because we don’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there, though. If we assume these creatures aren’t intelligent, we should be able to herd them using fear once they see that they can be easily killed. But if they are intelligent, we should be able to appeal to their higher reasoning. The logic of being killed once they realize their natural defenses are gone. In the latter case, we don’t have to create fear in every creature anew, only the ones who can tell the others that they need to run.”

  Terry nodded and smiled at Christina.

  “We need to have a conversation with the Benitons again,” Terry stated as he stood and started to pace. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I see a plan coming together. Everyone get to yoga. I’m going to talk with the general.”

  “Smedley?” Micky asked.

  “Ted.” Terry shook his head, but a deal was a deal. He had to beg Ted to build the weapon, because Terry had no faith that the Benitons would do anything outside what they already agreed to.

  “Why don’t you come, too, TH?” Marcie asked softly.

  He headed for the corridor and without looking back, he said, “Maybe some other time. There’s stuff I need to do, and not doing it wouldn’t be very relaxing.” Dokken followed Terry down the corridor as the others watched them go.

  “Heavy is the burden of command,” Micky intoned before excusing himself to return to the bridge.

  “It’s our job to make it easier on him, but he seemed content when he left,” Marcie suggested.

  “I know that look. It means he has a plan, but he needs to confirm a few details. In the interim, I’m looking forward to corpse pose,” Kae said.

  Marcie took his hand and they tried to psyche themselves up for yoga. Christina trailed them, shaking her head.

  Merrit stayed behind. He didn’t want to go. Two hundred years old, and he felt guilty about skipping school? “Goddammit!” He pushed himself away from the table. “Smedley, tell Shonna I’m on my way.”

  “She’s expecting you,” Smedley replied instantly.

  “Of course she is.” Merrit jogged after Christina, Marcie, and Kaeden. “Dammit.”

  * * *

  Smedley? Terry asked as he watched Ted and Ankh put one of the Etheric power supplies back together. It was the one they had taken apart to reverse-engineer, but no longer needed. It was one of the four they would reinstall in the space station, and with the codes provided by the Benitons bring the station back to life with its full and complex holographic interfaces.

  Yes, Colonel Walton?

  When can I interrupt them?

  I wouldn’t advise that. I don’t think any time is a good time to interrupt Ted when he’s working, Smedley cautioned.

  When is he going to finish?

  When he is done.

  Smedley, I remember the good ol’ days when you didn’t give me a ration every time I ask a question.

  I think these are the best of days right now.

  Finally we agree on something! Terry crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, settling in to wait as long as it took. He put his mind to work on the deployment details, and how to manage a planet full of creatures with a shuttle’s worth of warriors.

  All he needed was a force multiplier. All hail Ted.

  Sonofabitch! he thought. Here I am, hat in hand. I wish Felicity was here. This would be so much easier.

  Ted and Ankh finished putting the power supply together and started to leave. When they saw Terry, Ted pointed at Ankh. “Carry those for him.”

  TH trembled for only a millisecond before smiling and relieving the Crenellian of his burden. He didn’t bother to ask where they were going, since it would be obvious soon enough.

  Ted hesitated. “Grab the toolkit, too. We’ll make this in one trip!”

  Ankh stepped aside to give Terry room, since the toolkit was a large case.

  At least it had handles. He put the power supplies on top before bending at the waist to better balance himself. He gripped the handles and stood, but the box resisted. He pushed with his legs until the toolkit rose from the deck, and Terry grunted with the effort. “What the hell is in this?”

  Ted shook his head in exasperation. “Tools.” Ankh was first into the corridor, and held the hatch open as Ted walked through. Terry struggled to follow as he balanced the tool chest with the power supplies on top.

  “Hurry up! We haven’t got all day,” Ted called back. Terry couldn’t see him around the huge chest.

  “Are we going to the hangar bay, Ankh?” Terry asked between grunts.

  “Yes. We are on our way to the space station to make the repairs.”

  “I’m taking the elevator,” Terry said as he turned and headed the other way. “Come on, Dokken. I know you’re down there somewhere.”

  I am. Don’t tread on me, human.

  Terry started to laugh. He couldn’t control himself, and had to lean against the bulkhead. His chest heaved with the effort to stay upright.

  “When all else fails, revel in the absurdity.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Smedley flew the shuttle, as he always did. The docking was smooth, and the access through the airlock uneventful. They followed the access tube to where they’d burned through the emergency bulkhead, and passed the power supplies across the threshold one by one.

  Ted and Ankh walked away before Terry could work the tool chest through, and he watched them go without saying a word. They weren’t going to be much help.

  “And keep it upright. Those are sensitive instruments in there,” Ted said over his shoulder. He carried three of the power supplies, and Ankh carried one. Terry almost felt sorry for the
Crenellian…until he looked at the tool chest.

  Then the only one he felt sorry for was himself. Terry finally took a good look at the chest. It was four separate units latched together, but the latches were recessed. He popped the releases and broke the unit down. In moments, he had it through the hole in the bulkhead. He reassembled it into two sections and then made two trips to the lowest deck of the station, where an impatient Ted and a stoic Ankh waited.

  The first section of the tool chest Terry had brought wasn’t the one they wanted, so Terry ran up the stairs and returned shortly with the second chest. Arguing with Ted was useless, so Terry didn’t bother.

  Once the second half of the chest arrived, Ted got to work without a word of thanks to Terry for carrying it. TH stayed out of the way and thought back to the thousands of times he’d asked Ted for something. He remembered saying thank you after each exchange. Char always expressed her appreciation. Ted couldn’t be bothered.

  I don’t need you to thank me, but I do need you to make a weapon.

  Terry waited while they did their thing. The first hour passed, then the second, and it was well into the third before Ted looked at the work and grudgingly deemed it satisfactory.

  He opened the box that contained Plato, and the two started talking mind to mind. The lights flashed throughout the station as it came online. The stale air was quickly rejuvenated, and the emergency bulkheads retracted. Even with only the three of them on board, the entire station came to life.

  “That’s it. Time to go back to the ship,” Ted declared.

  “Ted. I have a request.”

  “No. I won’t help you carry the tools. That’s work for minions like yourself.”

  Terry ignored the jibe. “We need a weapon to use against the Skrima, to flush them out of their partial existence in the Etheric dimension and solely into ours.”

  “We already have one of those.” Ted threw up his hands and started walking away. “Bring the tools.”