Blockade: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Bad Company Book 2)

by Craig Martelle

  “We will take it from here, my friend,” Bundin said, once again using the device attached to the bottom of his shell to speak out loud. He was embracing the vocalization of his thoughts in the human tongue.

  Bundin liked the spaceships. It reminded him of Poddern’s tunnels, in an odd way, but everything was too bright. He squinted constantly. “When we get back home, I would like sunglasses. My eyes aren’t adjusting to the brightness as I expected they would,” he accidentally muttered out loud.

  Kim wrinkled her forehead. Joseph chuckled while still holding his head.

  “Home? You mean to the War Axe?” Joseph asked.

  “Sorry. I was thinking out loud, I guess, but yes. The War Axe. It is comfortable, and I like it there.” Bundin was straightforward. He didn’t have the capacity for half-truths or mistruths. When he spoke, it was what he believed.

  “You’re confident we’ll be going home, as you call it?” Joseph picked one of the four eyes on Bundin’s stalk and looked at it.

  “Of course. You freed my people on Poddern, although you were few and your enemies many. You care that people live. I am people. You care that I live, so I trust that you will make sure that I live, which means that you will live, because I will not leave your side.”

  “Holy crap, Bundin! You’re going to make me cry,” Kim said, looking quickly away.

  “That is not my intent, Kimber.”

  Petricia held onto Joseph’s arm with both hands. Auburn looked back and forth, trying to occupy himself with something other than soul-searching.

  “You, my friend, have a great attitude. We shall complete our mission and leave this ship alive because it simply cannot be any other way. We will not allow it. I will not have it!” Joseph declared, smiling at his friend, before tenderly kissing his wife. “Time to go see what cretin had the audacity to get inside my head.”

  Joseph and Petricia strolled forward briskly as if walking down a beach on a cool day. Bundin ambled after them. Kimber thumbed her Jean Dukes Special to ten. Looked at it, then dialed it to the max, because, It goes to eleven.

  Auburn saw what she did and nodded in grim approval. They would take the battleship with them, even if it meant they would not survive. Neither he nor Kim had Bundin’s confidence that they would be going home, although the thought of the blue, stalk-headed alien wearing sunglasses was something they both wanted to see.

  Alien Ship of the Line #1

  “We’ve been looking for you, too,” Terry said, taking a step forward to stand in front of the group. Some may have considered it arrogance that he stood in front. In his mind, he would be the first to take a bullet if the enemy fired. He would shield those in his charge, but he expected that this entity didn’t use bullets. Terry looked around and then stepped back. “I’m Colonel Terry Henry Walton and we’ve come to end your blockade of Alchon Prime.”

  “Not wasting any time with the trivialities of your small lives, Colonel Terry Henry Walton,” the entity replied.

  “Two people become four, then eight, then a nation, and finally a tide that sweeps over a planet and to the stars.” Terry rested his hand on his JDS as he studied the containment area. He thumbed the selector to the maximum. He had no doubt the intelligence behind the voice needed to be stopped. His hopes that he could negotiate a settlement had been vastly reduced after the first short exchange. “I see that humans run your ships. Not trivial or indispensable, methinks.”

  “Run our ships?” the voice questioned. “That is a pedestrian view of what is going on here, but it is the most you are capable of.”

  “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them,” Char offered, quoting William Shakespeare, before adding, “We know what we are, but know not what we may be.”

  Terry bowed his head in appreciation.

  “This is going to be a long day if you are going to insult us instead of getting down to what the hell it is you want. For the life of me, I don’t understand why a bunch of pudknockers in souped-up junkers are getting in the way of progress.” Terry watched for a reaction, but couldn’t tell whether the swirling blue mass changed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Terry could see Ted staring at the show behind the forcefield. TH expected that Ted was communing with Plato, judging by his blank expression.

  “Who is being insulting now?” the voice replied. Terry looked at Char and shrugged. She curled her lip as if to say, it was worth a try.

  “In our intelligence briefing, someone called you Fuckbert McAssholeface. I have to say that is most unbecoming, so what should we call you?”

  “You can call me Ten.”

  “Ten of twelve? You’re not the Borg, are you?”

  “Just Ten,” the voice replied.

  “Well, Ten, we need you to back off and let the cargo ships through. The humans on Alchon Prime need those supplies. Desperately, I might add, because this has gone on for far too long. I appreciate that you didn’t openly harm anyone, so maybe that mercy will get you to consider letting a couple ships through, as a sign of good faith.”

  “As a sign of good faith,” Ten repeated. Terry glowered at the nitpicking of his words. “The same good faith that blew up two of our brothers? The same good faith that put your people on five of our other ships? Is that what you are talking about?”

  “First rule of negotiation is that no matter how much you hate the fucker on the other side of the table, you have to set that aside in order to move forward. You attacked us, and we blew your shit away. Let it go, and tell me why you’re here.”

  “Because this is where I am,” Ten replied in a booming voice.

  Char scowled.

  Ted continued his stare-down. Cory stood behind the group, fidgeting uncomfortably. The entity was making her hairs stand on end.

  “How would your knowing of our purpose be of any help?”

  “Our purpose is to restore trade with Alchon Prime. We are going to make sure that happens. There are a couple different ways this can go.” Terry left the threat unspoken. He wasn’t bluffing, because a JDS dialed to eleven was merciless in its effect. And he’d seen what the War Axe’s mains could do to the blockading ships. They could finish the ship from within or without. In either case, the ship was finished.

  “Trade will not be restored with the planet you call Alchon Prime. Our reference is Dirikon Four One Seven Zero. The planet is within our space. We have come to secure it from the alien invasion,” Ten told them.

  “You are staking an ancestral claim to the planet? That’s something completely different. Can you show us a celestial map of your territory? No one wants to steal from others.”

  A holographic projection appeared above their heads. It showed multiple galaxies with billions of planets. Earth, Yol, all explored space was within the projection.

  “You have this beater tin can and expect us to believe you control space thousands of light years across? No. My disdain for you is growing by the minute.”

  Ted, are you getting anything? Terry asked using his comm chip.

  Ted didn’t answer. Char stepped forward.

  “I know it is not our place to question your needs or your authority, but understand that people and other aliens have expanded within this space for thousands of years. I expect you’ve heard of the Kurtherians. They owned this space for a long time before that.”

  “The Kurtherians,” Ten continued his annoying habit of repeating their words. “What do you know of the Kurtherians?”

  “I know that there are fewer of them now than there were a century and a half ago,” Terry said, tipping his head back. He wondered if Ten was a Kurtherian, but that couldn’t be. Bethany Anne was hunting them. She would not let a Kurtherian so brazenly take up space in her universe.

  “A bunch of smart scientist, megalomaniacal types. That’s my impression of them. I’m sure you have a different experience, but none of that matters to what is going on this very minute, which is your ships are between the food and the planet.
We need to change that status quo.”

  “We need to change nothing, except to expel your people from our ships. I see the Kurtherian technology coursing through your bodies. You carry the taint of the evil ones.”

  Terry opened his mouth, but revised what he was going to say. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. We believe the Kurtherians were evil, too—well, at least some of them. What makes you less evil? In my eyes, you intend to commit genocide of an entire planet. That’s pretty fucking evil, if you ask me.”

  “We are not asking you, Colonel Terry Henry Walton. We will expedite our recovery of Dirikon Four One Seven Zero.”

  “Isn’t there supposed to be an evil laugh, a mwahaha, or something to that effect?” Terry yawned.

  Ten is an AI, Terry told Ted.

  Of course Ten is an AI, Ted replied. Stop bothering me.

  Terry gave Ted the stink-eye, before returning his attention to the swirling blue mass. His hand never left the butt of his JDS and his eyes remained on the few human crew who stood between him and his target.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Alien Destroyer #1

  Marcie hugged the exterior corridor and headed aft to the place where she’d seen the ship’s engines. If the men escaped, they’d report that she was looking for the captain. She assumed that the captain didn’t hang out in the engine room.

  Her target was to take out the engines and the ship’s power source. Her mission was diversion and distraction. A dead ship would give them pause. A spectacularly exploding ship would draw their attention.

  Kelly stayed in the middle, pounding the deck as quietly as she could. She didn’t need to turn around to see behind her. She kept the rear screen active in a lower section of her HUD while she focused on navigating the low corridor without stepping on the others.

  Fitzroy and Praeter loped behind, their eyes darting up, down, left, and right in a continuous search pattern. They held their railguns up, moving the barrels with their eyes.

  Marcie’s stride drove her relentlessly toward her goal, to the heart of the ship, its power, while avoiding the intelligence she’d seen earlier.

  She wanted nothing more to do with what she had touched. Marcie was sensitive within the Etheric, a gift that had been passed to her, nurtured, and then her eyes were opened. She had touched evil, and her singular goal had become to kill it.

  It was nice that the mission goal overlapped, but Marcie enjoyed Terry’s full confidence. If she needed to change the mission, she had the authority to do that.

  On her new search and destroy mission, she realized that they wouldn’t be going back to the airlock. They’d find a different egress. She stopped, and Kelly almost ran into her.

  “Fitzroy and Praeter. Go back and get the mech suit. Fire it up and bring it along. We’ll scout up ahead, but won’t go too far. At the double-time, gentlemen.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they replied in unison. They turned and bolted. It wasn’t far to the airlock. This was a destroyer, not more than a few hundred feet long.

  “Do you want to split us up?” Kelly asked as she watched the two men disappear around a corner. She looked up from the image in her HUD.

  “I don’t want to, but don’t want to lose the progress we’ve made to get to this point.”

  Kelly didn’t reply to her distracted team lead. It had taken zero effort to get this far. There had been no resistance. Nothing. “Can we at least go back to where we can see them?” Kelly suggested.

  Marcie’s faced contorted as she struggled with what should have been an easy decision. Kelly reached out her armored hand and grabbed the colonel by the shoulder. “Come on, ma’am. We’re going back.”

  Marcie growled and struggled for a moment, before shaking her head.

  “Let’s get on our horse. There’s some weird shit going on.”

  To be safe, Kelly blocked Marcie’s way aft. The colonel was herself once again and started to run in the direction of the others. They turned two corners, just in time to see a bulkhead drop, cutting them off from the airlock and the other two members of the team.

  Marcie lifted her JDS and took aim, but stopped. Looks like we’re cut off, she said.

  We’re at the airlock and Praeter is getting into the suit now, the sergeant reported.

  New plan. Go outside and head aft, find another way in, which will be our way out. I’m going to blow the engines, so we’ll be looking for a quick way off the powder keg. I’m counting on secondaries to send this tub straight to hell.

  Secondary explosions. If the explosives didn’t do the trick, she had her JDS.

  And it was dialed to eleven.

  Together, they turned and headed aft. Two corners later, they watched a bulkhead descend and block their way.

  Kelly froze in place. Her initial reaction was the feeling of being trapped, until Marcie turned and winked at her. Kelly knew that the colonel couldn’t see her face through the helmet.

  Marcie casually dialed her JDS to five, aimed at the middle of the bulkhead, and fired. The metal buckled and twisted, but didn’t blow through.

  “Disappointing,” Marcie said. She thumbed it to seven, braced herself, and fired again. The bulkhead screamed as it was ripped from the superstructure and its shattered remains launched down the corridor.

  With her shoulders back and her head held high, she walked through the damaged section, appreciating the power of her new pistol. She picked her way through the wreckage, feeling the alien intelligence’s attempts to reenter her mind. But she was blocking, as Joseph had taught her, and she was confident that her actions were her own.

  She was confident in her ability to rip the ship apart, piece by piece until with one final blast, it would be relegated to the scrap heap of history.

  Marcie’s thoughts raced.

  We are outside and heading aft. There’s a rupture and the ship appears to be venting atmosphere, Praeter said.

  Yes, that was us. They tried to block us with another bulkhead. I doubt they’ll do that again. Let us know when you’ve found another way in, Marcie replied.

  “That blast cracked the ship,” Marcie said aloud.

  Kelly chuckled, the suit’s speakers carrying the sound. “Shall we?” she asked, motioning the way ahead using her oversized railgun.

  Marcie touched a finger to her forehead in a mock salute before turning and continuing on her mission to destroy the destroyer.

  Alien Ship of the Line #2

  Christina walked through the hatch and stopped as she found a swirling blue mass contained within a forcefield. Ankh leaned around her leg like a small child would.

  Aaron and Yanmei held hands as they watched. Ankh pulled an electronics kit from his small backpack and looked for an interface. There were two men in the room, standing at workstations. They stopped what they were doing and looked at the newcomers.

  “He’s going to need to use your computer,” Aaron said pleasantly, approaching the two men. They moved to stand between Aaron and their workstations. Yanmei joined her husband.

  “I think he said that we need to use your workstation,” she reiterated, smiling at the men.

  They turned angry. “What are you doing on this ship?” one demanded.

  “Same thing as you, I expect, living,” she replied.

  “We are serving the fleet by working aboard this ship. Women don’t belong here. And neither do you other freaks.” The man spat his words as if they left a bad taste. He thrust his chest out.

  “I think that is enough,” a voice said, filling the room with its sound.

  “I wondered when you would make an appearance,” Ankh said softly before turning to Aaron. “I need access to that terminal, please.”

  Aaron nodded. He and Yanmei walked forward. The men came at them, but clumsily. The weretigers were martial arts masters from their decades of training in China. With quick moves, both men were subdued and held with arm bars. Aaron nodded to Ankh.

  The Crenellian walked past and touched the screen. The system inst
antly went dead.

  “I’m afraid that I can’t let you do that,” the voice added.

  Christina looked at the swirling mass, knowing intuitively that this was the source of the intelligence.

  “My name is Christina and I’m with the Bad Company. We’re here to end the blockade of Alchon Prime. How can we proceed in a way that is mutually beneficial?”

  “You have destroyed two of our ships and you’ve put people on five others. I think we are past the mutually beneficial stage, don’t you think?” the voice replied.

  “I do not think that. When attacked, we defend ourselves. We put people on your ships because there was no other way to talk with you. It is only logical to establish a means of communication in order to negotiate. Other avenues were denied us. We chose the only one in our power to choose.”

  “I will accept your answer. What do you have that would benefit us?”

  “Let’s start with your name. I have to be able to call you something as we discuss things.”

  “You can call me Ten.”

  “Ten, as in the number?”

  “Yes. I thought I enunciated clearly enough.”

  Christina pursed her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ankh under the terminal and digging into the wiring, while Yanmei and Aaron effortlessly restrained the two human members of Ten’s crew.

  “My apologies.” Christina decided on discretion because it didn’t cost her anything. As long as she kept Ten talking, she gave Ankh time to do whatever it was that he did. “Mutually beneficial. I believe access to this sector of space without us blowing your ships out of space is a good start, as long as you pull back the blockade and allow the cargo ships through.”

  “Giving us what we already have is neither mutual nor beneficial.”

  “I’m sorry. You already learned that we can kill your ships. So, safe passage isn’t something that you already have, and it’s only the first thing that comes to mind, but we need to talk and find out what is beneficial. So how about this—instead of me guessing what you want, I’ll tell you what we would like, and then you tell us what you would like. We’ll see what might be palatable, and then we can take it upstairs. I’ll start. We need to feed the people on Alchon Prime. The cargo ships are sitting at the edge of the heliosphere. We would like you to let them through.”