“I’d suggest the Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch could fill in the gap, but we’re spent, as you well know,” Terry answered.
“I’m not going to do that to you. You went on a mission that I demanded you take, and then you lost one of your own. That was a high price to pay.”
Terry and Char looked at Nathan without saying anything. They couldn’t disagree.
“No buts. The power supply has a great value. In the end, no one will remember the price paid, only the cool toy that they’ll soon take for granted.”
Terry finally looked away. He saw a scuff on his boot. He licked his thumb and buffed it out.
“I hear that an All Guns Blazing franchise has just opened on Onyx Station,” Char said.
“Your appointment with Rivka is in ten minutes, so you had best be on your way.”
“How much money did you lose?” Terry asked. He sat up straight and listened intently.
“More than I’m willing to admit. You have defeated me, Terry Henry Walton. I thought you were completely incapable of controlling yourself. You’re a Marine, for fuck’s sake! Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. Can’t you hear those words forming in your mind, ready to explode with color and imagination from the mouth that has issued a million orders over the years? Give it to them hard and dirty, Patton said. You are this generation’s Patton, TH. You want to fuck bomb the unwashed shit-suckers out there.”
“I’m not Patton. I’d say that I’ll take that in cash, but that’s not how things work in this Star Trek universe of yours. Post the credits to my account, my friend. Tips are always appreciated.”
“Tips? Don’t bet against Terry Henry. That’s the best one I have.”
“Rivka?”
“She’s recently arrived as an intern.”
“An intern? You have got to be kidding me,” Terry said.
“I know you wanted to say ‘shitting me,’ so let it out, Terry. Let the inner you blossom before us.”
“No can do, Nathan,” Char said, stepping between the two men. “His self-control is what’s going to pay for the franchise. I don’t want to lose that now, so we’ll be off. But an intern? I hope she knows what she’s doing.”
“She’s more than meets the eye. I call her the Queen’s barrister, if that means anything.”
***
Kaeden and Marcie returned to the hangar bay. They spotted a number of sleek ships as well as a wheeled vehicle. “Spacefighters and cars? I wonder who those are for.” Kae pointed toward a cordoned area of the deck.
“It doesn’t matter. Our ride is this way.” Marcie motioned in the opposite direction.
“Clearly not one of Ted’s shuttles,” Kae lamented.
“He’s had the technology up and running for a whole week now. It’s going to take a long time to get out here.”
“But we know people. Maybe we can get the FDG moved up the priority list?”
“Is that what we’re going to call this group?”
“Do we get to name it?” Kae’s lip twitched upward to form a half-smile. “I’ll have to think on that one.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Marcie quipped. “Something like the Etheric Federation Peacekeeping Force.”
“We need something intimidating, but supportive, like Bad Guy Ass-Kicking Army.”
Marcie stopped walking so she could more effectively roll her eyes.
“How about Power Rangers?”
“Big nope.” Marcie started walking again. Kae stayed by her side as he continued to generate names in his mind.
“Army of the Etheric Federation, or Etheric Federation Peacekeeping Force.”
“That’s more like it. We’ll see what the general has to say. I suspect that he has something in mind.”
“You’re probably right. He’ll have a good reason for what he chooses as well, based on other factors within the Empire and the Federation.”
“It might be the Queen’s Army, you never know,” Marcie said when they reached the shuttle. A uniformed guard stood at the hatch.
“Colonel. Major. I’ll be your escort during your transit to Belzimus. My name is Paithoon. If you need anything at all, tell me, and I will acquire it for you.” The man saluted by thumping his chest and dropping his hand back to his side.
“We’ll need to learn your customs, so that’ll start as soon as we reach the destroyer.”
“The Candied Moon awaits.”
Marcie and Kae both stopped dead in their tracks. “Our destroyer is named the Candied Moon?” Kae stated the obvious.
“It is an honorable name.”
“Does it terrify you to hear it?”
“Of course not,” Paithoon replied.
“How about Vengeance? We need ships that people can rally around, not throw parties on.”
“We love a good party,” Paithoon said as his gaze drifted away.
“There seems to be a lot for us to talk about, Paithoon. The change starts right here, right now. The next party we throw will be when we’re planting a flag where our enemy used to be.”
“Sounds wonderful. Would you like me to start organizing that?”
“NO! I don’t want you to organize that. It’ll be a while before this group goes into combat. When that happens, we’ll know what we need to do. Are you a fighter?”
“Oh, no. I’m in the protocol office. The fighters? Those Belzonians are wired differently. Weird bunch, those.”
“Now you’re speaking my language. Let’s head over to the Vengeance and get this show on the road.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You haven’t spent much time with Earthers, have you?”
“None, sir.”
“You’ll learn.” Marcie jousted with the man briefly, trying to encourage him to go first, but gave up and entered the shuttle.
“Somebody will learn,” Kae whispered out the side of his mouth. “The Candied Moon? Holy flockenshnoogles! What in the big bone jobs did we sign up for?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alameda, Earth
The street tough sneered as his gang spread out in a circle, outnumbering Ted and the group two to one. One pulled a long knife and angled toward the German Shepherd.
They don’t have a clue. Dokken, if you’d like to take care of the punk leader, I’ll dispatch those closest to me. If you could handle the man with the knife, Ted, I’d appreciate it. And Petricia, my love, I think those on your right side will run when all the others are down, but just in case…
Dokken didn’t bother answering. He launched himself at the young man with all the speed in his enhanced body. The punk’s eyes shot wide just before the dog landed on his chest. As they hit the ground, Dokken’s jaws were locked on the man’s throat, canine fangs digging in.
Joseph accelerated to vampiric speed to head-punch the five on his side. One after another, they didn’t have time to move as the force of a sledgehammer drove their senses from them.
Ted lunged forward and grabbed the man with the knife. Ted snapped the man’s forearm before picking him up by the front of his shirt and slamming him on the ground.
Petricia walked casually toward those on her side. One took a clumsy swing. Petricia easily dodged it and spun to back-kick the young man. He puked as he flew backward, landing and rolling to his side to cradle his assaulted abdomen. She followed through to elbow the next street tough in the head. He didn’t have time to put his hands up to deflect any of the blow. His nose shattered, and he went down.
The last two ran. Cory frowned, anguish seized her. “Why?” she demanded. Dokken let go and hurried back to her. The punk leader struggled to take a breath through his crushed windpipe. Blood oozed from where Dokken’s fangs had punctured the skin. The man started to flop on the ground as hypoxia set in. Without a final exhale, he stilled.
Cory started to go to him, but Joseph stopped her.
“I can help him,” she pleaded.
“Not that one. I saw his mind. He was beyond help. There’s hope for that one.” Joseph pointed to t
he man with the exploded nose. Cory looked at the dead punk, nodded, and went to help the last man to fall.
Her hands glowed blue as she shared her nanocytes with their injured attacker.
“Any of the others?” she asked sadly.
“I’m afraid not,” Joseph replied. He searched the faces of the fallen. “So young. What happened where people cannot safely walk the streets of the town that we built?”
Ted rubbed his hands on his pants as if trying to remove the stench of the knife wielder. He looked to the factory nearby. “I think Kailin will have the answers,” Ted said.
Cory finished with the man, who looked at her with wide eyes. “Don’t attack people anymore. It’s a good way to get yourself killed. You’ll find there’s a greater reward in protecting those who can’t protect themselves,” Cory told him.
He ground his teeth together. When she rose to walk away, he grabbed her ankle. Petricia made a fist and reared back.
“Thank you,” the man said and let go.
Onyx Station
A young woman approached. She wore a fashionable spacesuit. Terry wasn’t sure whether it was armored or not. He resigned himself with the fact that she was new. Like her spacesuit. She approached, offering her hand.
“My name is Rivka Anoa, and I’ll be working with you on your franchise contract for All Guns Blazing. Do you have any questions before we start?”
“We’d like to see the All Guns Blazing before anything else. Are you old enough to go in there? You look pretty young,” Terry said.
“So do you,” Rivka deftly replied. She was shorter than Char by half a head, with blond hair and hazel eyes offset by swarthy skin. “I’m twenty-five, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m not twenty-five, and I’d like to see what I’m going to spend Nathan’s money on,” Char said.
“What are you, thirty-five? That’s not that big of a difference.”
“I think I’ll be…” Terry stopped and started counting, ticking off his fingers as he went. “Round it up to one ninety. You know what that means! Somebody is going to hit the big two-oh-oh this year.”
“Why?” Char rolled her eyes and groaned. “Why did you have to bring that up?”
“Because I need to throw you a surprise party,” Terry said nonchalantly.
Char turned to Rivka. “Which way to the bar? I could use a drink.”
“Follow me, please.” She winked at Char before shielding her mouth from Terry Henry. “I can get a wheelchair for the old guy, if you’d like. I know you’re not a year over twenty-nine. You look magnificent! I love your eyes.”
Char loved the infectious exuberance of youth. “Lead on, Queen’s Barrister. Wherever you go, we shall follow, as long as you’re going to All Guns Blazing. If you’re not, we’ll find our own way.”
They took an elevator to the promenade level, where Rivka held the doors for them to exit.
“This looks the same,” Char said.
“All Guns Blazing is a brand-new addition to Onyx Station. One of the signature elements is the seven-by-twenty-meter window looking into space. It is made using proprietary technology that will be part of the contract. The beer vats and brewing system must be purchased through the Bad Company. There is no proprietary technology there, it’s just beer, but the style of vats is unique and trademarked by AGB Enterprises.”
“Stop right there, Barrister.” Terry crossed his arms, puffed up his chest, and pushed out his biceps. “It’s never just beer. There’s an AGB Enterprises?”
“Of course. That’s who owns the franchise rights and who you’ll have the honor of paying a straight twenty percent of your revenue, not profit, to and who you’ll also have the pleasure of buying your stock materials from. It’s all in the contract.”
Terry deflated. “Is there any room for negotiation?”
“None, but I will remain your representative for as long as the contract remains in force.”
“What if you kill somebody and can’t be a lawyer anymore?”
“That is a most bizarre question. Although barristers are often able to mete out justice under the Yollin Accord, we don’t kill people. Should I be unable to continue my duties, for whatever reason, you will be provided comparable counsel from the firm. It’s in the contract.”
“We mete out some justice, too,” Terry started, “but I expect it’s a little different from what you do.”
“I’ve heard about what you do. I’m not sure I’d be bragging about it.”
“So what do you think we do?”
“Assassins. You remove people the Federation perceives as a threat to their power. You come in the dark of night. I’ll tell you what, buddy, my door is locked and I can defend myself!” She pointed a finger at the two.
Terry and Char both stepped back, looking at each other in confusion. “That’s not what we do. We’ve had exactly three missions so far. We ended a civil war on Poddern; we broke a blockade at Alchon Prime; and we closed an interdimensional rift and eliminated the Skrima, a race of demon-like aliens who had come through it.”
“Oh. Okay!” she replied happily.
“Aren’t lawyers supposed to take their clients without judging them, but more importantly, aren’t lawyers supposed to research stuff, you know, get to the truth?”
“I am still new at this, but there are rumors about you and your Direct Action Branch. They’re not pretty.”
“What the hell?” Terry turned to Char. She shrugged and turned her head. “Is Nathan fu…messing with us?”
“I hope not,” Char declared before her expression softened. “You look like you could use a beer.”
Terry’s ears perked up. “Could I ever. A nice and dark one. Cold. Big. And then another one that looks just like it.”
“I think you’re going to like All Guns Blazing. It’s the most popular place on Onyx Station.” They turned a corner and Rivka waved her hands as if making the bar magically appear.
There was a fight going on at the entrance. Rivka held her hand up, signaling for them to stop.
“Wait a minute,” Char said. She and Terry pushed past the barrister and ran for the entrance. Half the Bad Company warriors who had arrived with Terry and Char were inside the bar, playing a drinking game. The other half were already drunk and trying to get in. The bouncers were having none of it.
“We’ve been here thirty minutes. How can they be drunk already? How can they be in a fight? How does crap like this happen?”
Terry grabbed the closest warrior and hauled him backward. The man tried to throw a haymaker as he swung around. TH dodged it and slammed the man on his face. Char rabbit-punched the next man. Terry kicked the third in the back of the knee. When the man started to stumble, Terry punched him in the top of his head.
The fight ended quickly after that. The bouncers were unscathed, standing with their arms crossed, watching Terry and Char with wary eyes.
“Form up, you knotheads,” Terry growled at them. Six men and three women. All drunk and bruised. “You lasted a grand total of thirty minutes. That’s not a record, so while you’re confined to the War Axe, be comfortable in your knowledge that there are people in this universe who are stupider than you. How in the hell did you get drunk in thirty minutes?”
“A killer drink in one of the sub-level bars. The Supernova Hellspawn something or other,” one of them mumbled.
“Get back to the War Axe. I will have Smedley track you and if any of you geniuses get lost, you won’t be confined to the ship, you’ll be in the brig. Don’t pass go, don’t collect two hundred dollars, and don’t ever enjoy one minute of liberty for the rest of your natural-born days.”
The group looked contrite until one of the women started puking. She remained at attention throughout the affair, leaving a splatter on the deck before her and a trail down the front of her shirt. The others started to giggle.
“You had best get back to the ship. Right. Now.” Terry waved at them angrily. They turned and started to run, but they had turned in
different directions. Two fell down, while all avoided the spew. They helped each other up, decided on a way to go, and dashed away.
“Isn’t the hangar deck the other way?” Char asked.
“Yup.”
Rivka stood to the side, covering her face to avoid the smell. Terry grinned at her. “Not our finest moment, Counselor. If you wondered about any night sneaking by steely-eyed ghosts, what you saw here today should put those rumors to rest. And you’re probably thinking that we can’t fight our way out of a wet paper bag. To the untrained eye, it may seem that way, but these people have been in combat for a long time. They’re blowing off steam. That’s all.”
Continuing to cover her face while turning her body so she didn’t have to look at the mess by Terry and Char, Rivka asked, “Maybe you can teach me a move or two? That was pretty good how you disarmed three of them in three seconds.”
“But they weren’t armed,” Terry countered.
“You know what I mean,” she huffed. She nodded to the bouncers, who waved them in. “After you.”
Terry opted for seats at the bar, with his back to the window. He would look at space later. He needed to see the bar and understand the potential.
Rivka waited patiently as he inspected everything he could see, methodically looking from one point of the bar to the next.
“He’s memorizing all of it.”
“I’ll transmit a complete portfolio of pictures. They come with the franchisee license.”
“Sure, but he already has the whole bar committed to his eidetic memory. After one hundred and ninety years, you’d think his brain would be full, but it’s not. Maybe when he gets to be my age…”
“I heard that,” Terry said. “Nothing you can say will get a rise out of me, not while I’m here with this in hand.”
The bartender handed over a perfectly-pulled pint, so dark, no light passed through the glass. Terry looked at it as if he were in love. He closed his eyes as he sipped it, keeping the glass close while he licked his lips and took another long, slow drink.
“I may never swear again,” Terry suggested after he finished the beer and called for a second.
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