“If you do that, you’ll be fighting two Weretigers, the colonel, and Major Char all at the same time. It wouldn’t end well for you.”
“Another challenge, huh, Garcia? You’re going to owe me your soul before we get off this ship.”
Yol Space
The Singlaxian Grandeur glided gracefully behind a moon and slipped into a tight orbit, where the ship powered down most systems and made believe that it was a hole in the expanse of space.
P’tok sat in the captain’s chair, glancing at the displays lining the walls surrounding the bridge’s consoles. Passive systems provided his only source of information.
A rough-looking Yollin entered the bridge. Scorch marks across his carapace suggested he’d recently been in a firefight. He smelled of ozone and melted steel.
“What was the haul?” P’tok asked softly, as if the sound of his voice would carry outside the hull and give away their position.
“They had nothing, my captain, except weapons and the desire to fight. That’s why we blew the ship.”
“So they might have had something, but you weren’t willing to fight for it? That’s what I hear from your excuses.”
“My captain. We would have died and gained nothing except the information on our ship sent to the entirety of the pan and loop galaxies. We would have been pariahs for the remainder of our days. This way, we can continue to ply the routes. Those expecting that ship will believe it was an engine failure. Because of my actions, we live to fight another day,” the soldier said boldly.
“You cut and ran. Get out of my sight while I think on what to do with you.” The captain’s mandible stubs worked back and forth in his agitation. He spun his chair around and looked back at the screens, watching for a telltale moving spot of light indicating a ship was searching.
P’tok believed their prey had transmitted a distress signal. Regardless of blowing the ship, he believed the Singlaxian Grandeur had been compromised.
One big score and I’ll buy a new ship, replace the crew, and find a new route with new, choice targets. Yes. That’s what I’ll do. One big score, he thought.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The War Axe
Terry and Char stood on the bridge watching the enormity of space on the screens designed to look like clear windows. They gave a nearly three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view from the bridge that stood above the aft section of the ship. Like an island, it commanded a view of the warship before and beneath it. Weapons bristled from its hull, side to side and front to rear.
The variety of weapons represented the latest and greatest that the Federation had to offer. Just like the gate drive. Few ships were big enough or important enough to have the wormhole technology.
Captain San Marino embraced the magnitude of his position, and Terry knew a professional when he saw one. Micky looked at the ship like Terry looked at the FDG. A capability versus a problem to be solved.
“A problem not yet defined, nestled within a strategic direction guided by a moral compass,” Terry said in a low voice.
Char couldn’t read his thoughts, but she knew him as well as he knew himself. “The frailty of mankind is its strength. Those seeking a legacy beyond their mortal selves will carry us to the future.”
Terry searched his mind and couldn’t find where that quote had come from. “I haven’t read that, but it sounds like something I would like.”
“It’s not written down. Maybe I should write a book.” Char smiled and her purple eyes sparkled.
“There are those who say they want to write a book, and then there are those who actually do,” Terry prompted.
“I know you’ve been keeping a journal, and Cory, too. I missed having a computer, because if I write, that’s where I’d do it. What was the point of complaining? But now, there’s no excuse. You are on, Terry Henry Walton!” Char stuck out her hand, which TH took and shook firmly.
They turned their heads at the same time and caught the captain watching them with a strange expression. Terry looked at the man and asked, “Are you married?”
Char shook her head.
“I call my wife the Battle Axe,” Micky replied.
“And you say that out loud?” Terry asked in surprise.
“You know her as the War Axe.”
“A demanding mistress, indeed,” Terry exclaimed when he caught on. “I shall protect your fair partner with my life!”
Terry bowed.
“As will I!” the man at the helm declared.
“I won’t,” the Yollin grumbled.
“Heathen!” someone cried from the group near the engineering displays.
“Okay, maybe I will,” the Yollin continued to grumble.
Micky grinned. “I’ve been on other ships where the embarked force was at odds with the crew from day one. But not you guys, and that is refreshing.”
“One team, one fight, right?” Terry said.
Char gazed at the screens, turning as she looked from one to the next, getting a view of the entire solar system that they would soon leave behind.
“When are we gating away?” she asked.
“Jumping into new space requires the crew to be ready. Say the word that your people will be manning their stations, fully capable of entering strange and possibly hostile space.”
“Hostile space? Aren’t we jumping to Yol?”
“The gate links between here and very specific coordinates. But, those coordinates are the weak spots in space’s fabric. I’m afraid in known space, they are well defined, as in, everyone knows where they are. There will usually be a ship of one sort or another that is waiting near the target coordinates in every system we go to. Mostly merchants wanting to sell us something. We once were accosted by a ship full of dancing girls and guys. It took us a week to shake them off because the night crew kept letting them dock with us.”
“You weren’t the night crew,” Char accused.
The captain smirked.
“I was, but we were unanimous in our decision.”
“My people can get a little wound up. If you bring dancing dandies on board, I will have to cancel training until we can get them off.”
The captain chortled, and the bridge crew started to laugh.
“Let me rephrase that…” Terry stammered. Char put a hand on his arm and shook her head. Too late.
“Give us another week,” Terry told the captain. “We have our Bloodsport contest going on. We’ll finish that in a couple days. Give the people a chance to heal while we gear up and conduct a little more practice with the railguns and plasma rifles. You have some nice toys on here that we are more than happy to take off your hands.”
“Have you seen the mechs?” Micky asked.
“I’m sorry… Mechs?” Terry started to grin. He had always loved tanks. He would have had an Abrams after the WWDE if Char hadn’t talked him out of it by using sound reasoning.
“One-person mech suits. Armor for the discerning ground pounder. We don’t have a great number of them, but we can make more. We have the production capability, but we’ll need more raw materials. We should be able to get that when we get to Onyx Station.”
“Where are the suits?”
“Forward armory.”
“There’s a forward armory?” TH asked unnecessarily.
“I’ll ask Smedley to show you the way.”
“I live to serve,” the EI said over the bridge speakers.
“Or Dokken could show us,” Char offered.
“Dokken will be available shortly as Jenelope is currently chasing him from the mess deck.”
“Works for me. If you’ll excuse us, Skipper, we’ve got places to go and mechs to see. We’ll speed up the timeline in getting our people ready to staff the drop ships. I think it’s about time we gate to a new galaxy.”
“I think so, too, TH,” Micky replied.
***
“This looks like a maintenance bay. No wonder we missed it.” Terry and Char looked at the large roll-up door that Dokken was pointi
ng to.
They were waiting for the enhanced senior staff of the FDG to arrive. Terry wanted the opinions of his most trusted people--Kim, Kae, Marcie, Auburn, Cory, and Ramses.
Terry and Char leaned heavily on their family. They relied on the pack too, but Weres wouldn’t be operating the mechs. They’d probably be driven by enhanced humans, as all the FDG was becoming. Most of the warriors had completed a third trip to the Pod Doc and were stronger and faster.
They would also live much longer lives.
As Terry and Char’s family members arrived, Terry accessed the panel and the door opened. His jaw dropped as he saw a workshop with a number of armored suits. They were completely enclosed.
He hadn’t realized that he was expecting an exoskeleton type setup. These were sleek, about half again as tall as him, a rocket launcher mounted on the shoulder and various connectors for other weapons that were neatly stacked in a wall rack. Plasma rifles, railguns, sonic disruptors. Similar to the standard weapons, but much bigger.
“I love this universe!” Terry was first to hurry in, followed closely by Kae and Marcie. Auburn walked to the assembly line to look at the construction process, but he was thinking about recovery and repair. He’d seen what Terry Henry Walton did to his equipment.
Ramses smiled as he looked at the suits while Cordelia frowned. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What kind of battles are you expecting to fight where such weapons are needed?” she replied.
“Battles like every other. We wouldn’t go into combat with the intent to lose. Weapons like these can help us to intimidate an enemy into talking as opposed to fighting. You know us. That’s always our goal,” Ramses explained.
She knew it was true. “But the other people don’t know that. The aliens don’t know that. We’re going to take the drop ships and invade alien planets. They are going to fight back when they see weapons like these. And how am I supposed to heal anyone when they’re buttoned up in one of those?”
Cory pointed an accusing finger at the mech suits.
“That’s why we bring you along, my dear Cordelia,” Terry said, ignoring the suits and giving one hundred percent of his attention to his daughter. “You help us to see what we can’t. Of course we want to talk first, so we will probably need to keep the mechs hidden. If the shooting starts, we’ll do everything in our power to finish it as quickly as possible.”
She nodded because she trusted her father. Her real worry was that Ramses would don the armor and disappear into battle. She kept that to herself.
Kaeden opened one of the suits and climbed in. With Smedley’s help, he powered it up. The rear access sealed and the suit looked seamless. He took a few tentative steps, making the others dodge out of the way. He worked the arms for a few seconds then faced a second suit. Kae used his arms to pick it up, almost fell over, adjusted, and lifted the suit to the ceiling. He moved to the weapons rack and delicately removed one of the plasma rifles.
He aimed it, and that was when the others ducked and ran for cover.
“STOP!” Terry Henry bellowed. Kae froze, then slowly lifted the weapon.
“Damn, Dad. You didn’t have to yell so loud,” Kae said, using the suit’s external amplifiers. “You should see the information you get on the displays. It’s like I’m not wearing a helmet at all, but I can see three hundred and sixty degrees without looking over my shoulder. There’s a map of what’s in front of me right over here, and then there’s a full inventory of weapons and load out. You won’t believe what this thing can do.”
They picked themselves up and dusted themselves off as Kae put the rifle back in its rack, parked the suit, and climbed out.
“We can do some serious damage with one of those,” Kae said, bubbling with joy.
“Or six of those,” Marcie said, joining him in his adoration of the mechs.
“What about our normal folks? Can they operate those things?” Terry asked as he peeked inside the suit.
“With ease,” Kae replied firmly. “It was no effort at all to drive that beast.”
Terry looked at Char. “You know you want to,” she said.
He did.
TH climbed in. The suit sealed behind him without Terry having to do anything. He tested the arms and legs as Kae had done. It was as easy as walking. Picking up the other suit only required balance. If he fell over, he assumed it would be easy to get up since the suit mirrored his motions.
He asked the others to clear the way and he walked into the corridor, took a left, and then a right on his way to the hangar bay.
Kae and Marcie each climbed in a suit of their own and followed the colonel. Ramses and Kimber each took a suit.
“What the hell,” Char said. She climbed in and tested the suit by getting into a couple yoga positions.
“Is that how you’re going to use the suit?” Cory asked. Char heard her clearly.
“Just seeing how it all works,” Char explained as she studied her displays. Dots were overlaid on a map. Each dot was clearly labeled with who was inside the suit. She expected the EI had something to do with individual identification based on the chips in their heads. “It looks like the others are in the hangar bay.”
Char walked slowly with Cory as they made the short walk to the hangar bay through the over-sized corridors that were unique to that section of the ship.
***
Garcia moved easily through the rounds until there were only four left to battle it out for the top spot from the initial group. They’d started out as unenhanced, but thanks to the Pod Doc, they were all stronger and faster.
It presented a unique challenge.
Garcia flexed and stretched as he prepared for a bout against a wiry woman. He was remiss in that he’d discounted her and hadn’t watch her dispatch her opponents.
When the bell rang, he moved forward a step, then two as part of a feint. She stood straight up as if surprised he would try such a tactic. He turned his feint into an attack, which she blocked and counterpunched, connecting the heel of her hand to his mouth and nose. Garcia stumbled backward while defending with a flurry of punches and kicks to hold her at bay while his senses came back to him.
When he shook off the cobwebs, he set himself anew and moved sideways, offering openings for her to attack.
She did and he dodged, but not quickly enough. He grunted when her foot impacted his exposed chest. Garcia wondered if she’d been enhanced more than the rest of them.
He watched and waited, successfully blocking a number of attacks. She had a tell, giving away her next move, which came so fast that he could barely see it coming, let alone stop it, but it left her right side vulnerable.
Garcia opened himself and started his counterattack before he saw her move. His boot impacted her ribs hard enough to double her over, and he followed with a driving jab to her temple, which finished her. No one cheered as the blood dripped down Garcia’s face, as he bent in half with his hands on his knees, gasping for air, happy that the match was over.
He almost fell over as he took a knee next to the woman. Her eyes rolled around as he helped her to a sitting position. She tried to focus on him, but couldn’t. “Nice one,” she muttered.
Garcia looked around, but couldn’t find Cordelia or any of the senior leadership. But the Vampires were there. Valerie nodded to him in recognition of his victory as she approached and took her position in the ring. There were four left from the UnknownWorld. Yanmei squared off against Robin while Joseph faced Valerie.
“Let’s watch that one first, before I kick your ass into next week.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time my ass has been kicked thusly, my dear,” Joseph said with a slight bow of his head. Valerie looked at him oddly.
“You almost sound like you enjoy it,” Valerie replied. When he shrugged, she chuckled. “Then you’re gonna love me.”
Yanmei didn’t bother with ceremony. She entered the ring as a Weretiger, yellow eyes narrowed and watching the Vampire closely as she padded in
a wide circle. Her muscles rippled beneath her orange and black pelt.
Robin sized up her opponent. Valerie had wanted to fight the Weretiger. She was disappointed that Robin had drawn that bout.
The Vampire chose the tactics that would end the bout the quickest. She ran straight at the Weretiger, hitting Yanmei with a shoulder block, lifting up and throwing her into the air.
Robin caught Yanmei by the neck, twisted and slammed her head-first into the mat. The Vampire dropped to a knee and side-kicked the Weretiger out of the ring. Yanmei crashed into the first row of bystanders, wheezing from the broken ribs. The referee called the match, victory to Robin.
The Weretiger’s claws and fangs were free of Vampire blood. Yanmei had not landed a single blow. Robin nodded to Yanmei and walked out of the ring.
Joseph frowned. “I had hoped for a longer reprieve from my ass-kicking,” he said softly. “No matter. Master referee, on your mark.”
Joseph stepped aside and bowed deeply to his opponent. He returned to his stance, knees flexed and arms out, hands ready as the Marine martial arts had taught him. He’d learned more as he had been taught by Akio, as had the entire pack, but he didn’t want to show his hand too early. Petricia, fully healed, cheered him on.
Valerie didn’t pull any punches. She moved close and squared off, and they wailed on each other at vampiric speed.
Since all of those watching were enhanced, they were able to follow the action, but would have been helpless had they been in the ring. They would have only seen the first blow coming. After that, stars and darkness.
Apropos, considering they were in space.
Joseph dipped slightly. Valerie didn’t go for it, she hesitated, just long enough for Joseph to miss a block. She jabbed, tagging him on the chin, followed by an uppercut that he blocked, but found himself outplayed when Valerie’s roundhouse landed on his temple, staggering him.
She sent a second, harder swing his way. He went down in a heap, then immediately rolled to his back, but his hands were up and he was laughing.
Gateway To The Universe: In Bad Company Page 14
