Marcie stopped walking so she could more effectively roll her eyes.
“How about Power Rangers?”
“Big nope.” Marcie started walking again. Kae stayed by her side as he continued to generate names in his mind.
“Army of the Etheric Federation, or Etheric Federation Peacekeeping Force.”
“That’s more like it. We’ll see what the general has to say. I suspect that he has something in mind.”
“You’re probably right. He’ll have a good reason for what he chooses as well, based on other factors within the Empire and the Federation.”
“It might be the Queen’s Army, you never know,” Marcie said when they reached the shuttle. A uniformed guard stood at the hatch.
“Colonel. Major. I’ll be your escort during your transit to Belzimus. My name is Paithoon. If you need anything at all, tell me, and I will acquire it for you.” The man saluted by thumping his chest and dropping his hand back to his side.
“We’ll need to learn your customs, so that’ll start as soon as we reach the destroyer.”
“The Candied Moon awaits.”
Marcie and Kae both stopped dead in their tracks. “Our destroyer is named the Candied Moon?” Kae stated the obvious.
“It is an honorable name.”
“Does it terrify you to hear it?”
“Of course not,” Paithoon replied.
“How about Vengeance? We need ships that people can rally around, not throw parties on.”
“We love a good party,” Paithoon said as his gaze drifted away.
“There seems to be a lot for us to talk about, Paithoon. The change starts right here, right now. The next party we throw will be when we’re planting a flag where our enemy used to be.”
“Sounds wonderful. Would you like me to start organizing that?”
“NO! I don’t want you to organize that. It’ll be a while before this group goes into combat. When that happens, we’ll know what we need to do. Are you a fighter?”
“Oh, no. I’m in the protocol office. The fighters? Those Belzonians are wired differently. Weird bunch, those.”
“Now you’re speaking my language. Let’s head over to the Vengeance and get this show on the road.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You haven’t spent much time with Earthers, have you?”
“None, sir.”
“You’ll learn.” Marcie jousted with the man briefly, trying to encourage him to go first, but gave up and entered the shuttle.
“Somebody will learn,” Kae whispered out the side of his mouth. “The Candied Moon? Holy flockenshnoogles! What in the big bone jobs did we sign up for?”
Chapter Eleven
Alameda, Earth
The street tough sneered as his gang spread out in a circle, outnumbering Ted and the group two to one. One pulled a long knife and angled toward the German Shepherd.
They don’t have a clue. Dokken, if you’d like to take care of the punk leader, I’ll dispatch those closest to me. If you could handle the man with the knife, Ted, I’d appreciate it. And Petricia, my love, I think those on your right side will run when all the others are down, but just in case...
Dokken didn’t bother answering. He launched himself at the young man with all the speed in his enhanced body. The punk’s eyes shot wide just before the dog landed on his chest. As they hit the ground, Dokken’s jaws were locked on the man’s throat, canine fangs digging in.
Joseph accelerated to vampiric speed to head-punch the five on his side. One after another, they didn’t have time to move as the force of a sledgehammer drove their senses from them.
Ted lunged forward and grabbed the man with the knife. Ted snapped the man’s forearm before picking him up by the front of his shirt and slamming him on the ground.
Petricia walked casually toward those on her side. One took a clumsy swing. Petricia easily dodged it and spun to back-kick the young man. He puked as he flew backward, landing and rolling to his side to cradle his assaulted abdomen. She followed through to elbow the next street tough in the head. He didn’t have time to put his hands up to deflect any of the blow. His nose shattered, and he went down.
The last two ran. Cory frowned, anguish seized her. “Why?” she demanded. Dokken let go and hurried back to her. The punk leader struggled to take a breath through his crushed windpipe. Blood oozed from where Dokken’s fangs had punctured the skin. The man started to flop on the ground as hypoxia set in. Without a final exhale, he stilled.
Cory started to go to him, but Joseph stopped her.
“I can help him,” she pleaded.
“Not that one. I saw his mind. He was beyond help. There’s hope for that one.” Joseph pointed to the man with the exploded nose. Cory looked at the dead punk, nodded, and went to help the last man to fall.
Her hands glowed blue as she shared her nanocytes with their injured attacker.
“Any of the others?” she asked sadly.
“I’m afraid not,” Joseph replied. He searched the faces of the fallen. “So young. What happened where people cannot safely walk the streets of the town that we built?”
Ted rubbed his hands on his pants as if trying to remove the stench of the knife wielder. He looked to the factory nearby. “I think Kailin will have the answers,” Ted said.
Cory finished with the man, who looked at her with wide eyes. “Don’t attack people anymore. It’s a good way to get yourself killed. You’ll find there’s a greater reward in protecting those who can’t protect themselves,” Cory told him.
He ground his teeth together. When she rose to walk away, he grabbed her ankle. Petricia made a fist and reared back.
“Thank you,” the man said and let go.
Onyx Station
A young woman approached. She wore a fashionable spacesuit. Terry wasn’t sure whether it was armored or not. He resigned himself with the fact that she was new. Like her spacesuit. She approached, offering her hand.
“My name is Rivka Anoa, and I’ll be working with you on your franchise contract for All Guns Blazing. Do you have any questions before we start?”
“We’d like to see the All Guns Blazing before anything else. Are you old enough to go in there? You look pretty young,” Terry said.
“So do you,” Rivka deftly replied. She was shorter than Char by half a head, with blond hair and hazel eyes offset by swarthy skin. “I’m twenty-five, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m not twenty-five, and I’d like to see what I’m going to spend Nathan’s money on,” Char said.
“What are you, thirty-five? That’s not that big of a difference.”
“I think I’ll be...” Terry stopped and started counting, ticking off his fingers as he went. “Round it up to one ninety. You know what that means! Somebody is going to hit the big two-oh-oh this year.”
“Why?” Char rolled her eyes and groaned. “Why did you have to bring that up?”
“Because I need to throw you a surprise party,” Terry said nonchalantly.
Char turned to Rivka. “Which way to the bar? I could use a drink.”
“Follow me, please.” She winked at Char before shielding her mouth from Terry Henry. “I can get a wheelchair for the old guy, if you’d like. I know you’re not a year over twenty-nine. You look magnificent! I love your eyes.”
Char loved the infectious exuberance of youth. “Lead on, Queen’s Barrister. Wherever you go, we shall follow, as long as you’re going to All Guns Blazing. If you’re not, we’ll find our own way.”
They took an elevator to the promenade level, where Rivka held the doors for them to exit.
“This looks the same,” Char said.
“All Guns Blazing is a brand-new addition to Onyx Station. One of the signature elements is the seven-by-twenty-meter window looking into space. It is made using proprietary technology that will be part of the contract. The beer vats and brewing system must be purchased through the Bad Company. There is no proprietary technology there, it’s just beer, but the style of vats is un
ique and trademarked by AGB Enterprises.”
“Stop right there, Barrister.” Terry crossed his arms, puffed up his chest, and pushed out his biceps. “It’s never just beer. There’s an AGB Enterprises?”
“Of course. That’s who owns the franchise rights and who you’ll have the honor of paying a straight twenty percent of your revenue, not profit, to and who you’ll also have the pleasure of buying your stock materials from. It’s all in the contract.”
Terry deflated. “Is there any room for negotiation?”
“None, but I will remain your representative for as long as the contract remains in force.”
“What if you kill somebody and can’t be a lawyer anymore?”
“That is a most bizarre question. Although barristers are often able to mete out justice under the Yollin Accord, we don’t kill people. Should I be unable to continue my duties, for whatever reason, you will be provided comparable counsel from the firm. It’s in the contract.”
“We mete out some justice, too,” Terry started, “but I expect it’s a little different from what you do.”
“I’ve heard about what you do. I’m not sure I’d be bragging about it.”
“So what do you think we do?”
“Assassins. You remove people the Federation perceives as a threat to their power. You come in the dark of night. I’ll tell you what, buddy, my door is locked and I can defend myself!” She pointed a finger at the two.
Terry and Char both stepped back, looking at each other in confusion. “That’s not what we do. We’ve had exactly three missions so far. We ended a civil war on Poddern; we broke a blockade at Alchon Prime; and we closed an interdimensional rift and eliminated the Skrima, a race of demon-like aliens who had come through it.”
“Oh. Okay!” she replied happily.
“Aren’t lawyers supposed to take their clients without judging them, but more importantly, aren’t lawyers supposed to research stuff, you know, get to the truth?”
“I am still new at this, but there are rumors about you and your Direct Action Branch. They’re not pretty.”
“What the hell?” Terry turned to Char. She shrugged and turned her head. “Is Nathan fu...messing with us?”
“I hope not,” Char declared before her expression softened. “You look like you could use a beer.”
Terry’s ears perked up. “Could I ever. A nice and dark one. Cold. Big. And then another one that looks just like it.”
“I think you’re going to like All Guns Blazing. It’s the most popular place on Onyx Station.” They turned a corner and Rivka waved her hands as if making the bar magically appear.
There was a fight going on at the entrance. Rivka held her hand up, signaling for them to stop.
“Wait a minute,” Char said. She and Terry pushed past the barrister and ran for the entrance. Half the Bad Company warriors who had arrived with Terry and Char were inside the bar, playing a drinking game. The other half were already drunk and trying to get in. The bouncers were having none of it.
“We’ve been here thirty minutes. How can they be drunk already? How can they be in a fight? How does crap like this happen?”
Terry grabbed the closest warrior and hauled him backward. The man tried to throw a haymaker as he swung around. TH dodged it and slammed the man on his face. Char rabbit-punched the next man. Terry kicked the third in the back of the knee. When the man started to stumble, Terry punched him in the top of his head.
The fight ended quickly after that. The bouncers were unscathed, standing with their arms crossed, watching Terry and Char with wary eyes.
“Form up, you knotheads,” Terry growled at them. Six men and three women. All drunk and bruised. “You lasted a grand total of thirty minutes. That’s not a record, so while you’re confined to the War Axe, be comfortable in your knowledge that there are people in this universe who are stupider than you. How in the hell did you get drunk in thirty minutes?”
“A killer drink in one of the sub-level bars. The Supernova Hellspawn something or other,” one of them mumbled.
“Get back to the War Axe. I will have Smedley track you and if any of you geniuses get lost, you won’t be confined to the ship, you’ll be in the brig. Don’t pass go, don’t collect two hundred dollars, and don’t ever enjoy one minute of liberty for the rest of your natural-born days.”
The group looked contrite until one of the women started puking. She remained at attention throughout the affair, leaving a splatter on the deck before her and a trail down the front of her shirt. The others started to giggle.
“You had best get back to the ship. Right. Now.” Terry waved at them angrily. They turned and started to run, but they had turned in different directions. Two fell down, while all avoided the spew. They helped each other up, decided on a way to go, and dashed away.
“Isn’t the hangar deck the other way?” Char asked.
“Yup.”
Rivka stood to the side, covering her face to avoid the smell. Terry grinned at her. “Not our finest moment, Counselor. If you wondered about any night sneaking by steely-eyed ghosts, what you saw here today should put those rumors to rest. And you’re probably thinking that we can’t fight our way out of a wet paper bag. To the untrained eye, it may seem that way, but these people have been in combat for a long time. They’re blowing off steam. That’s all.”
Continuing to cover her face while turning her body so she didn’t have to look at the mess by Terry and Char, Rivka asked, “Maybe you can teach me a move or two? That was pretty good how you disarmed three of them in three seconds.”
“But they weren’t armed,” Terry countered.
“You know what I mean,” she huffed. She nodded to the bouncers, who waved them in. “After you.”
Terry opted for seats at the bar, with his back to the window. He would look at space later. He needed to see the bar and understand the potential.
Rivka waited patiently as he inspected everything he could see, methodically looking from one point of the bar to the next.
“He’s memorizing all of it.”
“I’ll transmit a complete portfolio of pictures. They come with the franchisee license.”
“Sure, but he already has the whole bar committed to his eidetic memory. After one hundred and ninety years, you’d think his brain would be full, but it’s not. Maybe when he gets to be my age...”
“I heard that,” Terry said. “Nothing you can say will get a rise out of me, not while I’m here with this in hand.”
The bartender handed over a perfectly-pulled pint, so dark, no light passed through the glass. Terry looked at it as if he were in love. He closed his eyes as he sipped it, keeping the glass close while he licked his lips and took another long, slow drink.
“I may never swear again,” Terry suggested after he finished the beer and called for a second.
“Bullshit!” Char declared. “Once the bar is up and running, you’ll be your old self. If you’re going to drink the profits, I’ll cut you off!”
“What?”
“Our bar. It’s our bar. Not Terry Henry Walton’s private watering hole.”
“Ooh,” Rivka said, pursing her lips and bringing up the contract on her pad. “I’ll need to make some changes.”
“Charumati Walton, co-owner, equally, if you please,” Char said. Terry took a big gulp and coughed before smiling.
“It’s every man’s dream. I get to own a bar with my woman!” Terry declared loudly.
“For fuck’s sake! What kind of barbarian is this turning you into?” Char leaned back on her barstool to glare at Terry.
“There’s the woman I love. Co-owners in a wildly successful business enterprise, bringing entertainment, food, and drink to those who want to enjoy themselves for a brief period of time.”
“You two are weird,” Rivka said without looking up.
Char stood and motioned for Terry to finish his beer, which he dutifully accomplished with little fanfare. “We’re going shopping. Buzz us when you hav
e the documents ready. I think All Guns Blazing is exactly what we need. And a new pair of shoes. Maybe an outfit to go with them. A purse, too. I almost never carry one, but who knows, especially if it’s a good match for the outfit.”
Iracitus, Dren Cluster
Shonna and Merrit stood on the bridge of the modified warship that they’d named after the AI that operated it. Iracitus expertly guided the ship away from Spires Harbor.
“Well done, Iracitus.” The AI appeared as a human image on the monitor.
“Thank you. It’s what I do.”
“I expect there’s a lot that you do,” Merrit replied. He watched the stars fill the screen as the ship smoothly accelerated toward the asteroid field.
“Phase one is underway,” Merrit stated.
“Phase two,” Shonna corrected.
He looked askance at her and rolled his finger, signaling for a more in-depth explanation.
“Phase one was the unmanned ships and rough mining.”
“I stand corrected. Phase two is where we build a processing facility in the asteroid belt, and then we’ll reduce our need for long-haul cargo shipping by only sending refined ore between the belt and the shipyard.”
“Exactly. Machines to build machines. A couple humans. A few dozen Harborians. And that’s it. I see watching a lot of movies.”
“The important question is, did we bring enough popcorn?” Merrit asked. “First order of business, Iracitus.”
“We will search for and select an optimal location for the processing facility.”
“You already have some ideas, don’t you?”
“I do. Let me show you what I have in mind.” Asteroid maps appeared as flashes on the screen as the AI rapidly reviewed them.
“I’m lucky that I’m not prone to seizures,” Shonna complained.
“Take care of it, Iracitus. We’re going to our quarters.”
“Sir?”
“We’ll check in later,” Merrit said firmly. They’d taken a small cargo bay and turned it into a luxury suite. Until they reached the field and deployed some of the equipment, they were forced to share their space with a small fleet of mining drones. The alternative was unacceptable. Standard quarters with bunkbeds.
The Bad Company™ Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 66
