The Bad Company

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The Bad Company Page 13

by Craig Martelle


  None of the Crenellians moved. Marcie swung her railgun to the front and aimed at one of the workstations. She counted down from the three to zero, but the aliens didn’t budge.

  The railgun cracked and the workstation exploded into a rain of debris that peppered the wall. The Crenellian who had been standing in front of her dropped to the floor and covered his head.

  She aimed at the next workstation. The Crenellian hurriedly got up from his seat and jumped aside. She counted down again. At zero, the railgun dart pulverized a second workstation.

  After the third workstation was destroyed, the alien on the floor before her turned his head and looked up. “There may be a way,” he offered.

  ***

  “Joseph?” Terry prodded again, but the vampire was deeply engaged in a conversation with the Podder.

  Char tapped Terry on the shoulder. “Bugging him every two seconds isn’t going to get you what you want.”

  “What do I want?” Terry asked, unhappy with how long it was taking Joseph in a conversation that Terry had no idea about the topic.

  “You want to know where the leaders are so you can storm up to them and tell them how it’s going to be.” She turned her head as he scowled.

  “Okay, that is what I want, but why is it taking so long?”

  “If I could answer that, then we would already be on our way to knock some sense into these creatures.”

  Terry’s expression softened, and then he chuckled. “Petricia?” he asked when he saw her watching him.

  “I’m with Char. Nothing would make me happier than seeing the end of this bloodbath and be back on board the War Axe on our way home,” Petricia replied.

  “Keeg Station. Our home,” Terry replied. “I like ground beneath my feet, air that hasn’t been recycled and processed, the waves of an ocean lapping at the beach. We need a planet with all that for our secret lair. We can call it Our Secret Lair.”

  “Lair?” Char looked at him. “I suppose you’re still angry that I didn’t want to go to Lake Geneva all those years ago.”

  “A little. Come on, Char, GaryCon! I missed it and you wouldn’t even let me go pay homage. And lair is a great word!” Terry tipped his head back and puffed out his chest.

  Everyone who could see was watching. The throw-downs between Terry Henry Walton and Charumati were the stuff of legends. Few had seen the real deal firsthand, but the stories were passed from one to another as if gospel.

  “Since when do you not do something you want to do?” Char reached out one finger and drew a line along Terry’s cheek, trailing down his neck where she lightly touched his skin.

  Goosebumps popped out on his arm. He looked around and found all eyes on him. He leaned close, eyes dilated as his blood rushed to his head. “Are you using sex to manipulate me?” he asked.

  She raised one eyebrow, and her purple eyes sparkled in the semi-darkness.

  “Again,” he added.

  “Have you been in touch with Marcie lately?” Char asked.

  “Your evil plot to distract me has killed two minutes that may have otherwise been spent stomping around impatiently. I thank you, my lover.”

  “Any time, my big husky hunk of man candy,” Char replied.

  Cordelia walked up to them. “Are you two done making a spectacle?” she asked.

  Terry adjusted his helmet as he looked thoughtfully at his daughter. Dokken was at Cory’s side, her hand resting on his head.

  “You little turncoat,” Terry told him. He cocked his head back and forth as he looked at the colonel.

  Marcie, do you have anything new? Terry asked using his comm chip.

  TH, I was just going to call. These knuckleheads are fighting this war remotely. They don’t have any soldiers, only technicians and computers. All the hardware we’ve been facing is of Crenellian manufacture. They sold it to the Podders. I am in the process of convincing these little bastards that they need to stop this attack that’s about to kick off. I’ll check in as soon as we’ve come to an agreement.

  “That’s different,” Terry said aloud after Marcie signed off. “Gimme comm, Auburn. I need to talk with Micky, ASAP.”

  ***

  Micky sat in the captain’s chair. He didn’t see the bridge crew or the screens showing the immensity of space before them. He only saw the damage reports scrolling across his screens.

  The Pod Doc had done its job, and the injured crewman was better and back at work with the hull repair crew.

  The hangar bay door still wouldn’t open, but Blagun had not reported any changes to his original repair timeline, which said that he needed two more days to get one door operational.

  Terry’s face appeared on Micky’s screen. “Thanks for the warning, Smedley,” Micky grumbled before turning on the charm. “Why, Terry Henry, calling me back so soon?”

  “I wanted to let you know that the weaponry in orbit is of Crenellian manufacture. They sold it to the Podders as part of the mining contract,” Terry said.

  “So the War Axe got pummeled by gear from the people who hired us, but they failed to tell us that we would be fighting their equipment. I am not pleased by this.” Micky clenched his jaw.

  “That is an understatement,” Terry said. “You want to let Nathan know? I feel like we’re going to be moving pretty soon and I need to get ready. Walton out.”

  Micky watched his screen go blank. “Smedley, please connect me with Nathan Lowell.”

  Poddern

  Terry watched Auburn put the comm gear away, almost feeling guilty for lying to Micky San Marino. Terry didn’t want to call Nathan because he was spitting mad. He didn’t want to talk with the boss while he was that angry.

  Call it professional pride.

  Marcie, I’m on my way over there. I’ll have Dokken track the weretigers. Is there any tricks to finding you? Terry asked.

  None. I’ll let the door guards know that you’re on your way, Marcie replied.

  “Fancy a walk?” Terry asked Char.

  “With you?” she said. “Always.”

  “Come on, Dokken, we’ve got some cats to track. You, too, and bring him.” Terry nodded toward Ramses, Auburn, Cory, and the freed Crenellian. “Kimber! Hold the fort. You’re in charge until we get back.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kimber replied, immediately heading for Timmons to get his help with the Etheric.

  “Joseph, keep working with Bundin and see what other surprises we can find in the minefield that is Tissikinnon Four.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “You’re in deep shit now,” Marcie told the aliens. “Christina. It’s about time you let him up.”

  Christina stepped back, and the alien got to his feet, furiously wiping at his face. The werewolf chuckled.

  The weretigers paced. The two warriors were relaxed with their weapons aimed at the aliens. Marcie stood in the middle of them, glaring from face to face.

  “I answered honestly. You should leave. We have a mess to clean up and work to do,” the cooperative alien told her.

  “And you said there may be a way to stop your attack. Spill it, buddy.”

  “Spill what?” the alien asked.

  “Just tell me, no, better yet, tell me as you are making it happen.” Marcie loomed over the small alien.

  The Crenellian moved to an open terminal, one that had not yet been destroyed, and started tapping buttons. “There.”

  “There, what? The attack is stopped?”

  “Temporarily, yes. All units are actively engaged in solar charging. When they hit one hundred percent, they’ll resume the attack.”

  “That doesn’t work for me, you little fuck,” Marcie told him. “Think harder and halt the attack.”

  “Once the attack is launched, nearly all commands are locked out. We have no control. The units will fight, mercilessly, until victory has been achieved.”

  “How do you define victory?” Marcie asked.

  “The complete and unconditional surrender of the enemy!” the alien declared.


  “Fine. Tell your units that the Podders have surrendered unconditionally and that you need them to stand the fuck down.” The logic made sense to Marcie.

  The Crenellian asked the leader of the group. The second alien replied. The two engaged in a short conversation. The first one returned to the computer terminal and started mashing buttons.

  Marcie watched, knowing that she wouldn’t understand if he was giving the attack units the command to stand down or destroy the planet.

  “When they wake up from recharging,” the alien started, “they will receive the updated information that the enemy has surrendered.”

  “And then what?” Marcie asked, unsure that the alien was being completely honest.

  “The units will check. If they find any Tiskers with weapons, they will attack and destroy them. We have a saying on the Crenellian home world—trust but verify. It is instrumental in all our programming.”

  “The Podders haven’t surrendered, so you’ve actually accomplished nothing,” Marcie snarled, reaching for the man. “I ought to wring your neck.”

  The alien stood his ground. Marcie stopped herself, because they didn’t seem to respond to physical threats. The only action that received a response was the destruction of the equipment, and that was only marginally successful.

  “Who’s in charge of this mob?” Marcie asked.

  “He is,” the man said, pointing to the Crenellian who finished wiping werewolf drool off his bald head.

  Marcie grabbed the leader. “What’s your name?” she demanded.

  “Tik’Po’Rout,” he said without inflection, standing up straight. The top of his head was even with Marcie’s chest. He looked at her ballistic vest where Podder slugs had impacted. She let him study the damage. He reached out a hand to examine the material. “What is this vest made of?”

  “I don’t know. Kevlar maybe?” Marcie didn’t expect they knew what Kevlar was.

  “Is there any way we could get a sample of this?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so. We need to wear these, thanks to you spinning up the natives.”

  “Spinning the natives? Can you imagine that?” he asked his fellow Crenellians. “Us. In the amusement ride industry.”

  The aliens shook as if shivering.

  “That is why he is the leader. He sees the bright side of every situation,” the first alien said.

  The warriors looked at each other and chuckled. Marcie joined them. The aliens stopped shivering. Their facial expressions never changed throughout.

  A greeting and a short exchange at the entrance to the underground signaled Colonel Terry Henry Walton’s arrival.

  ***

  “What do you think, Kel?” Kaeden asked over the suit-to-suit communication.

  “I think I love this suit,” she replied quickly. “Will I get to keep it?”

  “Judging from what we’ve run into down here, I think the mech unit has arrived. We will always need this kind of heavy firepower,” Kaeden said as he reviewed the status indicators on his HUD.

  Kelly sidestepped and then raised up on her tippy toes, lifting an armored hand to the ceiling. She scraped out a small section and then held it in her hand. “Sixty-four percent granite, silica, traces of gold… Did you know it could do this?”

  Kae turned his head to look at the other armored warrior. He could have skewed the HUD to look anywhere as the suit had eyes in the back of its head, but Kaeden found it disconcerting to see one image while looking in a different direction. Maybe in the future, they’d call him old-school for doing it that way.

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “It analyzes whatever is inside the glove.”

  “Holy shit!” Kae had studied the suit exhaustively, but only as it related to combat. He scraped some stone off the wall and held it in his hand. Nothing happened.

  “You have to crunch it up and hold it in your closed fist,” Kelly advised.

  Kae ground the rocks to dust using the suit’s power. A small window appeared in his HUD that started listing the elements within the sample.

  “This is really cool,” he added. A red light started blinking before his face. “Dammit!”

  Low power.

  “What’s wrong?” Kelly asked.

  “I need to go topside and recharge,” Kae answered.

  “Why don’t you use the power supply that arrived in the canister?”

  “They sent the recharging unit? I love those guys!”

  ***

  Dokken was first down the tunnel and ran into the room that had been carved from the rock of Tissikinnon Four. When he saw the weretigers, his lip quivered as he wanted to growl at them. He knew they were Aaron and Yanmei, but they were also friends of his arch enemy. He swung wide, rubbing his body against Christina as he passed, and stopped by Marcie, wagging his tail.

  Terry appeared and waved, then looked at the Crenellians. Marcie pointed to the one in charge. Terry approached and took a knee so he could look eye to eye with the alien.

  “Your bullshit in orbit scratched the paint on my new ride. I’ll need you to shut that all down so when the Axe returns, they don’t have to play mumbly peg.”

  Marcie shook her head, motioning for Terry to stop. He looked up to her. “They are very literal. This one’s name is Tik’Po’Rout,” she advised.

  Terry nodded and looked back to the Crenellian.

  “Tik’Po’Rout. Please disable the orbital security system. Right now would be good. And any of your remote combat systems down here, disable them too,” Terry said, ice dripping from his words.

  Char joined them, then Ramses, Cory, and Auburn. Auburn was carrying the Crenellian who had no chance of keeping up with the enhanced group as they ran from the cavern to the outpost.

  Two of the aliens who had not spoken hurried to meet Auburn and help their fellow. His mood changed entirely as they held his hands and led him to a seat.

  Marcie watched closely, and Terry watched, too. The sum total of his experience with the aliens was lugging the nearly catatonic Crenellian around. He vowed to study the alien cultures more before conducting future interdictions. His assumption that they would figure it out was costing the company time and resources. The cultures were so different that projecting humanity’s strengths and weaknesses onto them was counterproductive.

  Char saw Terry struggling with his perceptions of the aliens. He wanted to hate them because of the president’s seeming duplicity. But the humanity that they were showing for their fellow suggested that they deserved consideration at a different level.

  She knelt next to TH, her purple eyes sparkling. The alien leader reached out a hand and touched the silver streak of hair that trailed down one side of her face.

  “Why is this silver and the rest brown?” he asked.

  “It’s my belly fur. You see, I’m a werewolf, like her.” Char pointed to Christina.

  Tik’Po’Rout’s eyes followed where she was pointing and rested on the werewolf. He turned back to Char.

  “Like her, but not like her.”

  Marcie wondered where the alien had gotten his insight, because he was spot on. She looked at Terry and he looked back to his daughter-in-law. They both nodded slightly.

  “Exactly,” Char replied. “We want to end this war for two reasons. First, we were hired to end it by your president. Second, we’ve had about enough of Poddern. You can help us, which in turn, helps you. Tell us what we need to know to finish this war.”

  “Then let us continue our attacks for the final solution,” the alien said firmly.

  Char closed her eyes and controlled her breathing. Terry’s nostrils flared.

  “That’s not going to work for us. The people of this planet are the best ones to determine what they can share with the universe,” Char said in a low voice. “The Federation can’t support genocide or plundering a planet of its natural resources. It simply won’t work, so the solution that we must arrive at will involve as many people as possible surviving, people on both sides of thi
s war.”

  Terry clenched his teeth so hard that his face vibrated.

  “We had a contract, and they broke it. There must be repercussions,” the alien countered.

  “There have already been repercussions. How many Podders have died in this war?”

  “I don’t have an accurate count.”

  “Guess,” Terry growled.

  “We don’t like to guess.”

  “Do it for me. I won’t tell. Ten thousand? Twenty thousand?” Terry prodded.

  The alien hesitated before looking to his fellows. Terry and Char couldn’t tell if any of the humanoids moved, but finally the leader conceded. “More like a million.”

  Terry’s heart sank. The Bad Company had done their share of damage, but nothing on the scale of the Crenellians and their automated war machines.

  “Tell us where this force is that will be conducting the attack. We can wait no longer,” Terry insisted.

  The first alien who had helped accessed the screen behind him and pulled up a map. He pointed. Terry and Marcie studied it while Char stared at Tik’Po’Rout.

  Kaeden, I need you to take your mechs southwest from the cave-in. There’s an automated Crenellian force that will be attacking the Podders shortly. This weaponry must be obliterated. If it takes every rocket your mechs have, do it, Terry ordered.

  On our way, came Kae’s simple reply.

  “Where is the main Crenellian headquarters?” Terry asked.

  None of the Crenellians spoke.

  “Auburn, set up the comm and let’s see if Smedley can get into their system.” Terry motioned to the warriors. “Get them out of here.”

  With a snarl from the weretigers, a growl from the werewolf, and helping hands from the Bad Company, the aliens were removed from their outpost.

  “My president will hear about this!” the alien leader cried.

  “Yes, he will, and he’ll hear it from me,” Terry called after them. He looked at Char. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That you miss the days when the enemy was evil Forsaken who trembled at the sound of your name?” she offered.

  “Your radar must be off. I was wondering if these guys are the galaxy’s douchebags. I want to put my fist through their smug little dickheads.”

 

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