“Aish! Never could let a fight go,” In Sook said, helping me out of the Mecha as Monk watched over us.
“You know me,” I said with a winning smile, feeling the scar across my face from the pirate’s blade become tight. I turned on the representatives. Their eyes went wide as I uncompressed my battle suit, folding it and handing it to In Sook.
“Joo Mi,” she said in a sad tone as I gave it to her. She looked over the scars that dotted my body from small nicks from mono-molecular and plasmid weaponry to the ragged hole in my stomach, a hole in my shoulder and lower left leg where rounds had made it through my Mecha’s armor.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get them removed when I have an opportunity.”
I rolled my arms, limbering up as I looked at the giant of a man. He sported his own scars, faint marks of fingernails and one from what must’ve been an improvised shiv.
I nodded appreciatively. “Ready to go, pretty boy.” I grinned as I rolled my neck. The scar across my face turned my grin into something savage.
He growled, throwing his own battle suit at a representative as he smashed his fists together, his muscles bulging.
“Monk?”
“I would say to fight according to Salchar’s Rules, but I don’t believe that you will,” Monk said. Sadness crept into his voice. “Don’t kill him, please.”
“Don’t kill him? I’ll string him up as a trophy to show what happens when someone challenges Bregend.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Bregend.”
“Bregend, seriously? Your parents called you Bregend?” I said, unable to hold it in. I looked at the man again, now with pity. That had to have been an interesting upbringing.
Monk shrugged and raised his staff. “Let the duel begin!” He slammed his staff into the ground.
Bregend came at me, charging. Before, this would’ve left me stunned as what had to be near three hundred pounds of muscle charged at me. Now I ran at him, a smile on my face. He opened his arms to wrap me up as he got closer; I jumped, planting my foot in his face and turning as I landed a savage elbow on the back of his neck. I hit the ground rolling and turned to face him again. He shook his head, dazed from my elbow. I rushed back in, clapping one of his ears as I forgot about my missing hand. I realized too late when his fist caught me on the chin, lifting me off my feet. My reflexes took over as I rolled and turned to face him. It felt as if I’d been in a car accident. I spat blood and a chipped tooth slipped out as I pulled back my hair, which had come loose.
Bregend slowed, taking up a brawler’s stance. This worried me as people who thought about attacking before they did so were vastly more effective.
“Are we dancing or fighting?” I asked as his eyes flashed. His strike could not be more predictable as he lined up his body, moving his foot into position as his shoulder rotated before he drove his fist forward.
I swerved under his grip, holding the muscle of his triceps and a few nerve points. He yelled out as I turned my back to him and planted my foot in his knee, causing him to buckle.
He punched with his free hand, catching a rib. I felt it snap. My left side started to burn as if it were on fire. I needed to put him down and fast. I could feel my ribs grating against each other; each movement elicited pain. I released his arm and punched him in the face before jumping out of his reach.
He picked himself up slowly, a satisfied grin on his face. My vision went red as I launched at him, ignoring the pain in my side. I punched and kicked, using my half-arm to defend. My fist and feet snapped out, each hitting a pressure point as he cried out in agony, his muscle not providing the protection a good layer of fat would’ve.
I used everything from sleep training on how to make the other feel pain. He was feeling it as I moved around him, searching out for nice dense groupings of nerves. He howled as I kept hitting. He fell to the ground and I paused, seeing whether he would give up. His foot lashed out. I only had time to take the impact in my gut instead of my side as I fell back. It felt nearly as bad as it would’ve been to take Hellfire.
I’d been organizing a take-over in my dressing gown just a bare four hours ago and now I was fighting a human gorilla in my birthday suit. The universe sure is a strange thing. When you’re fighting there are a lot of strange thoughts you have—well, I do at least.
He’d learned his lesson from before. He rushed to his feet and I swung a foot at his head. He hardly flinched; his hands grabbed my foot. He grinned as I wrapped my other leg around his arms. I pulled myself in, bringing my elbow down viciously on his head. He released, punching my hips before he grabbed my sides. I screamed as I felt my ribs puncture something.
I needed to end this fight, now, I knew as I felt myself coughing. I grabbed his fingers, breaking them as I twisted him away from me. I released them as he looked to me, cradling his hand.
I pivoted on my left foot, snapping out my right, connecting with his head that snapped back like a door slamming. He fell to the floor bonelessly, his mouth opening in confusion.
I picked myself up, breathing heavily and coughing up blood with my breaths.
“Shit, looks like I punctured the lung,” I said lightly as Monk was already stabbing a needle into my arm. I held in the curses, barely, as I went rigid. All of the bones grated back in place. A few seconds later, I let out a shaky breath. I took the syringe from Monk and stabbed it into Bregend.
“Now sit down,” I growled to the other human representatives. “Or I’ll beat you senseless, too, with only one damned arm.”
The one who had been talking took a seat first. Another looked to be taking the one beside him but hit the talker in the chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Leaving him on the ground gasping, he took his seat, a sneer on his face as he looked at me challengingly.
I grabbed my communicator I had stored in my Mecha before entering the room and put it in my ear as it formed to me.
“He’s not fit to serve with the Armored Marine Commandos,” I said into it.
“Yes, sir.” Two battle-scarred Mechas like mine—Monk’s and Cheerleader’s—entered the room, their weapons slung as they moved with purpose.
“What the hell is this?” the man who had struck the other demanded as they walked to the table.
“I told you, anyone who does not follow the code of the Free Fleet can expect to be punished to the full extent. You will have a trial to determine the length of your service term. Though you will never step inside a Mecha or be a commando. Instead, you will work with the Syndicate scum who owned your ship and this station to serve hard labor.”
“What!”
“For the rest of you, it might be a good idea to think of this: striking another Mecha of the same rank and lower without prior permission or under extreme circumstances will result in one term of service.”
“How long is a service term?”
“One Earth year.”
The assaulter threw his chair at the first Mecha. The chair smashed against the Mecha’s arm that blocked it. Another Mecha’s rail pistol barked at the assaulter and dropped him to the floor.
“You killed him!” one yelled accusingly, a woman, it looked like, under the lack of hygiene.
“Those are stun rounds; we won’t waste a worker out here. He will have a fair trial which will bring into account every act he has committed, both past and present. If we find he assaulted any other Mechas or people previously, he will have the assaults added to his service term.” At this, a few of them gulped.
“Henry, get another representative from that representative’s ship.”
“Yes, Commander,” Henry said, still outside the room with his people ready. The two Mechas in the room grabbed the stunned man and carried him out of the room none too gently.
In Sook gave me my battle suit, which I quickly put on, pressing the compressing tab. It pulled my ribs into a better position as the Hellfire did its work.
Bregend made a noise from the floor but I disregarded it as I took a seat at the table.
“Now, sit.” I looked at them, letting my anger show on my face as they did so.
Monk and Cheerleader took up positions on either side of me, watching the other occupants in the room like hawks. Close enough to smell them, quite literally and unfortunately.
“This is what is going to happen. You will be trained to be Armored Marine Commandos, to work together and to have some damned hygiene.” I raised my hand at the complaints. “This is non-negotiable. While becoming a commando is a great honor, you need it to get some damned organization and to pull yourselves together. The Syndicate may have pulled you apart but we will put you back together. Questions?”
“Will there be exemptions?”
“Yes, the ones who will be exempt are those who have committed a crime under the code of the Free Fleet. They will be awarded service terms as crimes are found; they will learn skills that benefit the good of the fleet, mainly hard labor. The shortest term is a year and each offense adds a multiplying factor, determined by the crime. So say, one has four assaults, they can be given up to twelve years instead of four.”
“You want us to serve you after being trained into commandos?”
“No, no one serves me. One chooses to serve the Free Fleet and its codes and regulations. We do not stand for a person. We stand for the people under our protection who wish to remain free, and to crush those who prevent that freedom.”
“What if we don’t choose to join the commandos?”
“You will be treated fairly; you will have quarters, food, and medical and be trained in technical jobs. To stay on the station, you will need to earn your keep. There is no such thing as free air in space. You will be paid on a scale we are figuring out now. When we are able to, those who desire to return to Earth will be allowed to do so.”
They nodded acceptance, most of them staring at the table.
“I know most of you have been without rules. This will be taken into account with anyone who has committed terrible acts. Here we will allow you to get back to your old self without worrying about getting stabbed by the people who should be looking after your back.”
“If we get a service term, could we change it to become an Armored Marine Commando, like the marines back on Earth?” a faintly tanned man said, his features of Spanish descent.
“Yes, that is possible for the assault charges and the less severe ones,” I said. A few faces lit up. “Those who complete their service as a commando will be able to apply for other positions, such as the fleet or station. There are jobs from cooks to wormhole navigators and ship gunners needed on all ships. Commando training comes first. Everyone needs to be able to defend themselves if we come under attack.” I looked at them. Most of them leaned forward in genuine interest.
“I know most of you want to go back to Earth and that you were put in an impossible situation, but we will get this sorted out and we will get home.” They finally looked up from the table, looking at my eyes. Their eyes reminded me of a lost child looking for security, shelter, and above all—hope. Most of them still are children, I thought sadly. I looked at the table, clearing my throat abruptly.
“Inform your people what I’ve told you. We will call out ships in random order. The first order of business will be getting all of you showered.” I allowed myself a grin, which they responded to with varying degrees.
“Then we’ll get you quartered. Those who are clear of all charges will have a quick one-month course with the commandos and given the option to move on after a short period of time. Those who have performed questionable acts will be held back for the next training rota or until a sentence has been passed on their actions.”
Bregend picked himself up off the floor behind me.
I turned to him, letting Monk and Cheerleader watch my front. “Are you willing to follow my commands, Bregend?”
“Yes, Commander,” he said sourly.
“Don’t worry; we have an actual gym in the works on every ship. You’ll like it.”
“Really? I haven’t been to a real gym in—”Excitement filled his face before he schooled his features in front of the other representatives.
“Yes. Now, get the information from your other representatives. A replacement for the assaulter will be here momentarily, I am told. Inform them what is going on and have your people ready. If they do not comply, we will come in and stun anyone who resists. All these ships are now property of the Free Fleet. If your people damage them, they will be fixing it.” I looked over all of them again before I stood. In Sook helped me into my Mecha.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Sarenmentis I need to talk to.” I paused before leaving.
“Make sure no one is assaulted, human or alien. If it’s in self-defense that’s fine, but I will not have dead people on my decks because you wanted to take your rage out on someone who may or may not deserve it. If you do so, then I have no use for you and you’ll be taking a long walk in space without a suit or a lifetime of mining rock with no one for company other than a pickaxe,” I said, making sure they got the message.
With that, I stomped out of the room.
“All right, Rick, link me to the Sarenmenti’s conference room.”
“Should be on your HUD now. Are you sure you don’t want to pause, sir? Your ribs have only just pulled back together. With the scar on your face and your missing arm—”
“Better to get it done as fast as possible instead of waiting and garner doubts,” I said as Monk received the map data and began navigating the station toward the next meeting.
I breathed as I reached the new door in front of me. Henry had appeared along the way, walking with me silently with a squad of Mechas, the others already in position. I knew without me having to say a word.
“Just don’t get into a fight this time.” In Sook put a gauntleted hand on my shoulder.
“I’ll try.” I tapped her hand with a clang before moving through the door; both she and Monk took their positions on either side. I stared at the fifty-two Sarenmentis, whose clicking and grating noises of their native language died away as they, in turn, studied me.
I scanned the table, finding Officer Turek at the table instead of the Resilient’s overall Sarenmenti officer.
I noticed that there were four squad officers who sat at one end of the table; the officers of their ships pointedly ignored them.
It was hard for someone to hide something from me. Even as all of the Sarenmenti looked at me as if they didn’t care who I was, they were all nervous, except for the four squad officers, who looked at me solidly.
I let my gaze settle on them as they returned it unflinchingly.
I grinned, turning my seat to face them, gaining me a few raised scales. “What are your names?”
One of the Sarenmenti officers in front of me whispered to his neighbor. “Damned coward scum.”
My servos hissed as I leveled a finger at the speaker with blinding speed without looking. “Not you.”
He quickly looked at the floor, giving up talking.
“I am Kareesh.”
“Kreum.”
“Dreckt.”
“Shminkt.”
“Lovely names. As you know, I am Salchar and that dagger you brought with you won’t work on me, Kreum,” I said in a light tone. I leaned back, pulling out a data pad, and looked up as Kreum grinned.
He took the dagger, a flick of his wrist burying it into a bulkhead behind him to the hilt.
“Neat trick. I never got the whole throwing thing down—you’ll have to teach me.”
He nodded, a grin now showing on the other three’s faces.
After a few seconds of looking at their information, a grin spread across my face as I put the data pad away. “I guess you’re what my people would call special ops?” I asked, again lightly.
Kareesh nodded fractionally.
“Well then, you’re going to be damned busy,” I said with a happy grin. “That is, if you want to repay the bastards who kept and treated you as slaves?”
&nb
sp; “We would be most pleased to bring about their destruction,” Kareesh said, his tone as cold as space. They bared their razor-sharp teeth in anger, which sent an electric chill down my spine as my own mouth was a thin, merciless white line.
There’s something in the soldier’s code: They will do everything for their country, even if they are spit on, blamed, and yelled at. They will take on these burdens and continue on as long as they are fighting a fight that is worth fighting.
Though, if a soldier finds out they are fighting a fight for no more reason than for someone’s gain in power, they will try to put it in a light that they are doing well by the people. Until evidence is given to them that their country has made them do acts that are for the benefit of no one. Then you have a highly trained individual who will no longer fight for their country. They will do everything in their power to reveal the truth to their comrades and people. Effectively taking away the military from a country until they can sort themselves out. It had happened before with Rome, again with England, and through human history.
I was giving them a chance to regain the honor their previous leaders had thrown away, giving them the ability to protect the people they’d harmed and try to do good. If their only skills were to kill, then I was going to damned well use that skill to the fullest and deliver them to the throat of the enemy, sword in hand.
“What about the regular Sarenmenti forces?”
“There are still those who deny your claims, roughly twenty percent,” Shminkt said.
“That’s normal; I will give them access to the archives of the ships and this station. Hopefully that will show more of them. I am, however, doubtful that all of them will. Such is any species’ mind, I’m finding. We’re all stubborn bastards, even when we’re given the truth.” I sighed and shrugged. “All right, well, there will be a choice for your people: join the Free Fleet or become a civilian. If they become a civilian, they will be expected to work in some way. They will be given access to leisure activities until such time we can return them to your planet or to a destination they desire.”
Free Fleet Box Set 1 Page 35
