It made them wonder how the others were fairing on the Harborian frigate...
Chapter Twelve
Keeg Station
The two men looked at the computer screen. A three-dimensional model of a cryo-drone rotated slowly on the longitudinal axis before spinning on the lateral axis.
“Each of the drop ships can carry one of these?”
“Or a canister can carry a number of them. Once within a planet’s atmosphere, with the Etheric power supply, they can stay airborne indefinitely.”
“Micro-gravitic engines, but most power is in the cryogenic storage unit. What if they are in a suit or are an alien?”
Mardigan grumbled to himself. “We need to make it bigger. This one won’t fit half of our people.”
Auburn looked at the recruit. Our people. He wasn’t the only one taking ownership of the unit.
“We’ll turn it over to Dionysus to expand the frame and cryo-pod within. Time to get back to training. Good work, Mardigan.” Auburn slapped the man on the shoulder.
“I can stay here and work with the AI on the redesign,” he suggested.
“In the future, you’ll have that option, but getting through recruit training is a rite of passage. Every member of the Direct Action Branch has to be able to fight, while knowing what the other warriors are doing. To get there, you have to train and train hard. Sorry, but it’s time to rejoin the others. Take your lumps and wear them as badges of distinction.”
“Yes, sir,” Mardigan conceded, clearly unhappy with the choice. Auburn showed him the door. “Right.” The recruit jumped up and raced out.
Auburn followed, thinking as he traversed the corridors of Keeg Station’s lower levels. “How will you change when we open you up to civilians?” he asked the metal behemoth.
The soft hum of the ventilation and climate control system that kept the air fresh and at a constant temperature was his only reply. It would continue to serve the station as directed by Dionysus and the station’s small maintenance team.
“I know. You’ll go with the flow,” he answered his own question.
Auburn didn’t have to see the cargo bay to know what was going on. He heard the shouts and energetic engagement of hand-to-hand training.
Tim, formerly a mechanic turned Harborian guard turned Bad Company recruit, was circling the ring. His opponent was a teal-skinned Malatian called Bon Tap. His flowing silver mane swung from side to side as he labored to keep Tim centered.
The human worked his way forward, closing the distance. The Malatian saw an opening and charged.
Right into the trap that Tim had set. He sidestepped, grabbed a handful of the man’s hair, and swung him around in a circle, slamming him head-first into the mat. Tim straddled Bon Tap from behind, wrapping an arm under his opponent’s throat and pulling backward, twisting his head and straining his back.
“Enough!” Kim shouted. Tim released his grip, stood, and backed away. The Malatian slowly came to his feet.
“You need to cut that hair.” Kim pointed and sneered.
“What? No. NO!” Bon Tap exclaimed.
Kim jerked back as if struck. “It’s a liability in combat! We are warriors before all things. Because of that mop, you’re vulnerable. Cut it or get the fuck out.”
The Malatian’s shoulders slumped and his head hung to his chest. He ran his hand through his long, silver hair as tears dripped onto to the mat. Kim wanted to punch him.
Christina stepped into the ring. “What’s the issue?” she asked softly.
“In my species, only females have short hair. If I’m unable to keep my hair, I will forever be alone.”
“Welcome to the Bad Company,” someone said from the side.
Kimber was with her husband. She didn’t know what it was like to be alone, but her sister had been shocked into that reality. She didn’t wish it on anyone.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What if there’s an alternative?” the female recruit who’d spent the first night naked in front of her fellows suggested. All eyes turned to her. “We braid that shit tight. It’ll be a like a second helmet. He can let his hair down when he goes on liberty, which at this rate is what, sometime next year?”
Christina chuckled. The Malatian lifted his head. “I like you,” he said.
“Fuck off, buddy! I’m just going to braid that metal shit you call hair.”
He laughed and nodded. “Deal, but it’s not metal.”
“Shut your fucking pie hole and get over here,” the female recruit ordered.
Christina slapped him on the ass so hard that he stumbled face-first into his fellow recruits. “Next!”
Onyx Station
Adina Choudhury stretched her neck from side to side as she led the way out of the White Orchid Spa tucked behind a promenade shop and sighed happily.
“Oh, I feel much better after that!” she proclaimed to the figure catching up with her. “Didn’t I tell you a little bit of pampering would do us all some good?”
Captain Jack Marber pressed his hands against the small of his back and nodded. “You did indeed,” he said. “They’re very good in there. Months of backache from sitting in the Fortitude’s crappy pilot seat—gone. We have to do this more often. I feel great!”
“Speak for yourself,” moaned the Yollin following them through the door. “I still feel like I’ve gone ten rounds with a Ixtali kick-boxer.”
He rolled his shoulders, the joints popping noisily, causing the blood red raal hawk perched beside his right ear to let out an irritated squawk.
Jack offered Adina a sly wink. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” he commented. “Lifeforms with exoskeletons shouldn’t get massages.”
“That poor guy,” added Adina, her expression becoming serious. “I hope the damage to his wrists doesn’t keep him off work for too long.”
“I doubt it,” said Jack. “Once the medic had finished bandaging the cuts and bruises on his hands, he reckoned the masseuse would be fine after a little physiotherapy.”
“Well, he’d better not blame any of that on me,” grunted Tc’aarlat. “I offered to go get the toolbox from the ship so he could really go to town on me, but he refused, saying he had a few dicks up his sleeve.”
“I think you mean he had a ‘few tricks’ up his sleeve,” corrected an amused voice from behind the group.
The trio turned to find a familiar figure approaching, arm outstretched.
“Nathan,” cried Jack, covering his mouth to keep his voice down but taking the proffered hand and shaking it firmly. “Didn’t expect to bump into you on this station.”
“I’m here to drop off TH and Char,” Nathan replied, gesturing to the two people with him. Both were laden with more than a few shopping bags. “They’re due some vacation time, and I suggested they spend it here on Onyx Station.”
There was a small buzz, and Nathan pulled his tablet from his pocket. “Excuse me, folks, I have to take this,” he said, stepping away as his fingers danced across the screen.
TH nodded. “If I'd known ‘vacation’ was code word for shopping, I’d have gone on a mission instead,” he said. “Give me suicidal aliens and blowing up enemy ships over emptying my account for the privilege of sore feet and a dry mouth any day.”
Charumati stuck out her tongue and narrowed her striking purple eyes. “Not my fault you’re slow on the uptake!” she teased. “Only three more stores, then I’ll let you go for a beer, or should I say, another beer.”
“I’ll need more than one if this is how you plan to spend the entire vacation,” her partner chuckled. He turned to Jack, Adina, and Tc’aarlat, holding out his hand. “Terry Henry Walton, but my friends call me TH.”
“Jack Marber,” replied Jack as they shook, “and this is Adina and Tc’aarlat.”
“I’m Char.” The woman smiled, setting down her purchases to join in with the handshakes. “I’ll be standing here all day if I leave it to my husband to introduce me.”
“I love your h
air!” offered Adina, gazing appreciatively at the silver stripe running down the length of the woman’s glossy, dark locks.
“Thanks!” responded Char, running her fingers through the thick tresses. “TH says it’s my way of making a statement. But I’ve no idea what that statement might be.”
“It’s your frequently stated commitment to never knowingly pass an open store without purchasing their entire stock,” TH groaned. “You guys want to come and grab that beer with me while the ladies share shopping tips?”
“Beer sounds good,” said Tc’aarlat. “And Mist never says no to a dish of muri meat, do you, girl?”
The scarlet-feathered raal hawk shrieked her agreement.
SKAWWWWW!
“Unfortunately, we can’t,” Jack said. “We have an appointment to keep on Damkin Prime. A few bad guys need fucking up due to their ongoing interest in buying and selling child slaves.”
“That sounds even more fun than shopping.” Char beamed. “Do you want a couple of extra fucker-uppers? TH is good with that cannon of his, and it might be useful to have a werewolf on your side of the equation.”
“You’re a werewolf?” croaked Adina, taking a small step back.
“As dangerous as she is beautiful!” TH said with pride.
“Looks like you two have more in common than just hair and shopping,” Tc’aarlat pointed out to Adina. “If we go for that beer, you could learn more about— OW!”
The Yollin bent to his right, rubbing the spot where Adina’s elbow had made contact with his ribs. “Gott Verdammt!” he cried. “How come a trained masseuse can’t make a dent in my exoskeleton, but you can jab me like the horn of a charging bistok?”
“Practice makes perfect—and pain!” Adina snarled, readying her elbow once more.
“I think that’s our cue to take our leave,” Jack said. He shook TH’s and Char’s hands again. “Say good-bye to Nathan for us once he’s finished his call.”
“Sure will.” TH smiled at the group.
“And good luck with your slave traders,” added Char.
Jack glanced at Adina and Tc’aarlat as they glared angrily at each other. “Judging by the mood these guys are in, I suspect it will be the bad guys who need the luck!”
Keeg Station, Dren Cluster
Felicity looked at the monitor on her desk. The system throughout the station was tied in with the IICS and since she was married to the man delivering the first batch to remote corners of the universe, she had exclusive access to the communication pathway.
Last time they used it, Ted had hung up on her. She wasn’t amused, but it wasn’t out of character for him. He had finished updating her and had already mentally shifted to the next task. She was surprised he closed out the link when he could have simply ignored her.
He didn’t do it to be abrasive or to get under her skin. Being focused on the task at hand was at the core of his being. If he didn’t consider it important, he didn’t expend the mental energy.
Sometimes that could be frustrating. Felicity recalled the innumerable times during their marriage where something was important to her but not to him.
This time, he was taking an IICS to their children so she could talk with them. He had invented the technology, made it into something that mattered. It made up for all of the times he seemed distracted. Felicity was certain he had built it just for her, so she could talk with her children while also building an empire. Both were important to her.
And now Marcie was gone, too, but she could call her, depending on where they went, which she didn’t know.
That chapped her ass. She was supposed to know everything.
“Where are you, Ted, and what are you doing? Our Terry, Char, and Billy will be the medicine I need,” Felicity drawled. She looked to the monitor and then back out the window. Today wasn’t a day to get any work done.
Chapter Thirteen
Alameda, Earth
“Kailin? I don’t know where he is. No one knows. He took off four months ago. The guy in charge is called Timmons.”
“No, his name is Thompson. That’s what it is. We don’t see him much either. He mostly stays in the office.”
The man tried to point, but Ted was already headed for the stairs. He knew the way.
The others nodded as they passed. Dokken forced his way between the man and Cory, watching him the whole time. The dog lagged back, making sure no one came at them from behind.
“Now I know something is wrong,” Joseph said over the noise of the factory.
They plowed up the stairs, forced their way past a secretary, and burst into the office. Ted was furious. The others weren’t happy either.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” the man yelled before seeing who it was. “Ted?”
“Where is Kailin?” Ted demanded.
“Gone. He resigned and left,” the man replied. Ted walked around the desk. The man called Thompson backpedaled until he hit a seam in the carpet and fell over. Ted grabbed him by the lapels of his cheap suit jacket and pulled him upright.
“Why would he resign?”
“I don’t know. Too much pressure, maybe.”
Joseph looked over Ted’s shoulder and reached into Thompson’s mind.
“Pressure from you and your cronies. You threatened to destroy the plant if he didn’t leave,” Joseph said.
Ted picked the man up and flung him across the room. He hit an I-beam with a sickening crunch and slid to the floor, a growing pool of blood surrounding his head.
“I’m not sure it rated that,” Joseph said. Ted didn’t give Thompson a second look.
“We need to call Kim and Auburn and see where their son might have gone. In the meantime, we’re going to Chicago. We’ll land wherever the hell we want. They need to know that we’re back.”
“They don’t need to know that we’re not staying,” Joseph replied.
“No. They don’t need to know that. I will get answers. We won’t leave until Cory finds Sylvia and Sarah and I find Terry, Char, and Billy and give them an IICS so they can call their mother.”
Ted stormed from the office. The wide-eyed secretary dove out of his way. Joseph, Petricia, and Cory walked past, sullen and lost in their own thoughts. Dokken sniffed the body before carefully pulling a piece of beef jerky from the man’s pocket and trotting after the others.
Ted never slowed. He took the steps two at a time on his way down. He walked through the factory like he owned it, which he still did. The rest never apologized as Ted pushed people out of his way. The workers decided it wasn’t worth trying to detain the man like security was requesting.
Security! They never needed such people when he was running things. The thought of it galled him.
Ted stopped once he reached the parking lot. Ramses’ Chariot descended, getting close to the vehicles, but not touching them before the stairs descended to the pavement. Ted climbed up and went inside. The rest never hesitated.
“Saves us a hell of a walk,” Joseph said as Petricia entered in front of him. Cory followed with Dokken running up the stairs last. The German Shepherd could still taste the jerky. He wanted more, but he wanted to find Cory’s daughters first. If they smelled anything like her, he could lead Cory to them. They only had to get close.
And then he would ask for more jerky.
Keeg Station, Dren Cluster
In space, day and night had no meaning beyond what was created artificially. Humans built Keeg Station, and it ran full-time operations, but personnel worked according to the human clock, twenty-four hours with a set eight hours of so-called night.
Although it was foreign to many alien cultures, they quickly adapted. Being spacefaring meant never-ending change. It was the only constant in the universe.
The lights had been turned down in the cargo bay and the recruits were in their racks. It had been a long, hard day. The leadership team expected them to sleep well.
“Should we hit them with a significant emotional event?” Christina asked.
&n
bsp; “Tonight?” Auburn asked. His face said ‘no.’
“Let them get their beauty sleep. Maybe tomorrow morning, rock their world an hour early.”
“To what end?” Auburn wondered. With the shift in training styles, they would have to explain. It required more effort than yelling at the recruits to see how high they could jump.
“To tighten them up as a team. Give them another challenge,” Christina explained. “I want them to face an enemy, see if they rise to the occasion.”
“Do we have an enemy handy that doesn’t mind getting killed?” Kimber wondered aloud.
“A rampaging bistok.”
“Not one of your better ideas,” Auburn stated.
“We don’t have time for subtleties.”
“Didn’t Terry tell a story about something like that in New Boulder?” Auburn suggested.
“Timmons went after a buffalo herd when he was missing a hand to show that he could contribute to the pack,” Kimber clarified.
“That was it.”
“I don’t like it.” Auburn crossed his arms. Kimber leaned forward
“No one has to know.” Christina was digging her heels in.
“Everyone will know, but to squeeze three months of training into one month without having a real training area, we have to get creative. Where do you propose we acquire a live bistok?” Kim asked.
“I have one already. It came in on a supply shipment. It was going to get butchered for that Seppukarian place. I diverted one. It’s in the next cargo hold over. Do you think I can expense it? I hope so, because I charged it to the Direct Action Branch tab.”
Auburn didn’t respond. The look on his face resembled that of a stunned mullet.
Kimber’s comm device buzzed. She stepped further into the corridor away from the cargo bay hatch. “Major Kimber,” she answered the unknown caller.
“Ted here, calling from Earth. Kailin left the plant. Where would he have gone?”
“Is this a loaded question? He would have gone home.”
The Bad Company™ Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 67
