Terry took one step and found Char next to him. She carried a pistol in each hand. Her eyes were puffy and glistening, and more tears threatened to fall. She clenched her teeth as she looked around TH for the next target.
“Where did it go, Smedley?” Terry asked.
“Bundin’s fire was effective and eliminated both targets,” Smedley reported.
Terry took one last look at the fallen tree before turning on his heel. Bundin slopped through a puddle, then backed up and went through it a second time.
Charumati stopped to watch him, tilting her head as the Podder splashed in the water. He turned completely around to put each of his stumpy legs in. Dripping, he continued to the drop ship.
“Why?” Char asked softly.
“We don’t have water like this on my planet, nor on the ship, nor on the space station.”
“It’s the little things,” Terry whispered into his wife’s hair. “The little things that make life worth living. Let’s finish this and go home. It’s time to mourn. It’s time to talk with our family back on Earth. It’s time for a lot of things that don’t include getting people killed.”
“What about Ten?”
“We’ll get to him, but not now. We need to go home. We need more mech suits. I won’t go into combat again without everyone armored up.”
He didn’t have to say that he’d never contemplated that the nanocytes would be rendered nonfunctional and make the warriors too vulnerable.
“We won’t face a superior enemy on Home World, but we will face humans. We saw too many humans meet their end on Earth. I’m okay never seeing another human die.” The group climbed aboard, and the rear deck rose and locked into place.
“Smedley?”
“Mop-up operations are underway,” the general reported.
“Let’s pick up our people and get the hell off this godforsaken planet.”
***
Marcie ran as fast as the suit would allow as she hunted down the last two Skrima. She was tired from not having her nanocytes active, but she was willing to overlook that to ensure that the Skrima would be solid when she finally cornered them.
They were running—the first she’d seen or heard of that—but they were slow too. In the short sprints they were speed-of-thought fast, but over the distance they were running out of energy.
Marcie caught them in the open and didn’t waste any time before firing a long stream of hypervelocity darts. The projectiles raked across the Skrima and they turned and howled in their anguish at her, then thrust their heads back to rage at the sky.
“I never liked shooting an enemy in the back. Thanks for being so accommodating,” Marcie told them as she sent a final burst their way. The creatures blew apart, as was usual when a stream of hypervelocity darts impacted living flesh.
She shouldered her oversized weapon, verified no further targets on her HUD, and activated her comm system.
“Colonel Walton reporting sector is clear.”
“The planet is clear. Picking you up in five, Marcie,” Terry replied tiredly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The War Axe
Char rushed across the hangar bay and waited impatiently for the rear deck of her daughter’s drop ship to open. The warriors in the mechs moved to the side, parked their units, and started to climb out.
No one talked. Many were injured, but they had started to heal once the final Skrima had been eliminated and Ted shut off his satellite weapon for the last time.
Ted and Ankh stood near the hatch leading to the interior of the War Axe. They looked impassive, but the fact that they were there and not in Ted’s lab spoke to their feelings.
Terry moved through the warriors, checking on the injured and shaking hands with the teams. Marcie followed him. He turned to her as if to ask her to take care of it, but he couldn’t. Every member of Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch was his family.
“Join Char. I’ll be along shortly,” he told her.
She didn’t move. “No.”
Terry had given an order. He didn’t understand.
“You join your wife and daughter. I’ll be along shortly.” Marcie hugged TH and gently brushed him out of the way so she could carry on with the post-combat leadership engagement.
Christina appeared, and Marcie nodded to her to come over.
Terry excused himself and strode briskly across the Axe’s hangar bay. Never run. It upsets the troops.
Char was holding a nearly catatonic Cordelia as four warriors carried out the body bag. From all the engagements, all the blood shed on Benitus Seven, only one body bag.
Once up a time Terry Henry would have considered that a blessing—to fight such an enemy and only lose one of his people—but not anymore. He looked across the hangar bay. The entirety of his combat force was there. If he lost a person a week, they would all be gone within a year.
He felt guilty for thinking he needed to recruit more warriors. Train them and then put them onto foreign shores. The Marines’ Hymn played in his mind.
From the Halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land, and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title
Of United States Marine.
Exporting justice to the universe, Terry thought. First to fight for right and freedom. Of course, but the freedom of others, and it comes at a price that we are willing to pay. Glory to those who stand between the oppressors and the oppressed, for they will know both honor and death. They will know freedom through the eyes of the free.
When Terry reached his family, Kim, Kae, and Auburn were already standing close to Char and Cory. Kae looked for Marcie, frowning when he saw her at the other end of the bay, then looked at his dad and knew she was there so Terry could do the right thing and be with his wife and daughter. Kae nodded in understanding.
Terry wrapped his arms around Char and Cory, but the only thing he could think of to say was, “I don’t have the words.” They cried as the Bad Company stood in silence and watched.
***
Micky breathed softly. The mood around the table was sullen. Terry looked at his wife, who looked down at the table. Christina stood up.
“I got this.” The others in the room—Joseph, Petricia, Shonna, Merrit, Kae, Kim, Marcie, Auburn, Fitzroy, Dokken, Bundin, Ankh, and Ted—looked up at her. “Smedley, patch me through to my father.”
After a short delay, Nathan’s face appeared as a holographic projection above the center of the table. He smiled when he saw Christina, but then he panned his view around the room. “What happened?”
Christina spoke. “Cory’s husband Ramses was killed on Benitus Seven. The Rift has been closed, and the Skrima have been eliminated. We have the schematics to build the Etheric power supplies, and we have unlimited access to the space station as long as we stay off the planet.”
“Mission success,” Nathan replied dryly. “Son of a bitch. Please accept Ecaterina’s and my sincere condolences. It’s my fault for sending you out there.”
Terry pounded a fist on the table and glared at the projection. “It’s not your fault, Nathan! We set out on this path a long, long time ago when we first formed the Force de Guerre. All of us have suffered. Just tell us that it’s worth it, Nathan…that our sacrifices matter.”
“More than you can ever know, TH, and that’s on me. We’ll set up an honorarium as a testament to what Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch has done—a museum in the heart of the Federation, and we’ll call it the Price of Freedom. Everyone who dies in service to the Bad Company will have a place. Every system liberated will get a dedication.” Nathan stopped, but no one filled the void with their voice. “Unfortunately, both lists are growing.”
“That they are,” Terry said as he leaned back in his chair, his energy spent.
“I’d like to say some
thing,” Ted said.
All eyes turned to him, and he looked down as he spoke. “I’ve known Ramses a long time, but I didn’t know him. I don’t know anyone really, besides Felicity, and she says I should make an effort to know the others. Believe me, I have expended a great deal of energy on that endeavor, but to no avail. I concede that I will never understand people, but I accept that that’s okay because of people like Cordelia and Ramses. Even Terry Henry and Charumati.
“We have all committed of our own free will to this ideal that Bethany Anne has for a greater universe where people can live free. It started on Earth and continues right here, nine thousand, seven hundred and fourteen light years away. No matter what, I’m in. We’re doing the right thing, and Felicity thinks so, too.”
Ted stopped talking. Ankh glanced at him, face impassive.
Christina remained standing. “Anything else?” she asked.
“It’s good to see you,” Nathan replied, feeling selfish once the words had left his mouth. “Is there a chance that these ‘Skrima,’ as you call them, will return?”
Christina didn’t have an answer.
Joseph raised his hand, and Christina pointed to him. “I was able to briefly touch their minds. They are intelligent, but think differently from us. They consider us as a blight, and would not have surrendered. They will return, but when and where I don’t know. I do know that they can control the Rift. If they open another portal to our universe, we have to stop them and close it.”
“I will send out a Federation-wide alert with all the data related to the Rift and the Skrima. Good job, people. I know that won’t bring Ramses back, but as I keep saying, you’ve saved a lot of lives. The miniaturized Etheric power supply will fund the Bad Company from now to the end of time, and every single space vehicle will have at least one on board along with the micro-gate technology Ted is working on.”
“All hail Ted,” Smedley interjected.
Terry shook his head.
Ted fidgeted, but smiled as he looked into his lap. “The IICS is ready,” Ted said, still looking down. “You need to send a number of units to Earth. I have a list prepared of who will get the first ones.”
“Of course. We’ll see that gets done the second we have the units in hand. And congratulations—that is a huge step for us. The Bad Company, shrinking the universe one discovery at a time.”
No one cheered, and Christina looked uncomfortable.
“I want to talk with Uncle Gene,” Kimber said softly.
“Me too,” Kae added.
“We need to talk with our grandkids. They need to know that their father… They need to know the great things that he did.” Terry stood. “Next time we’ll have drinks on the table, because we toast the fallen. Always. Here’s to Ramses, and Gomez, and those who have gone before and those who will follow.”
Everyone in the captain’s conference room stood and raised a hand in the air. “Hear, hear,” they intoned.
“Hear, hear,” Nathan replied.
“We’re heading straight back to Keeg Station, then liberty until we have enough suits for everyone. Please make it so, Nathan.”
“What about Ten? You’re close to Home World.”
“Ten isn’t going anywhere, and maybe we can bring some of the captives back with us to help liberate their birthplace.”
“Sounds like a plan, TH. Lowell out.”
Spires Harbor
“I’ll be damned,” Timmons said. “Amazeballs!”
“I have to admit that it is miraculous,” Felicity drawled, watching the shipyard grow. “One day. It’s been one day.”
“But it’s been a damn good day, with an army of motivated workers and all the raw materials anyone could ask for.”
“Cool your jets, Timmons. Dion, when will we run out of construction materials for the new shipyard?”
“Four days, Madam Director,” the AI answered.
“Your boys are hungry.” Felicity focused on one side of the construction where the first tie-in was being finished—one of the spider’s legs.
The initial project would have room for eight starships. Once they gathered more raw materials and the power to process it they would start enclosing a main section, half of which would be metal and the other half powered shields. Zero-gee, but breathable atmosphere—the best of both construction worlds.
Timmons pulled Sue to him and hugged her. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Because I turned into a werewolf while getting mobbed? You have got to be shitting me.”
“The catalytic moment that changed the course of destiny,” Timmons said in a low voice with his hand over his heart. “And you know you love how they defer to you as you walk by.”
Sue chuckled. “I do like that.”
“I do, too,” Felicity added.
“Next up, mine the asteroid belt. That’s a whole new project plan.” Timmons blew out his cheeks as the list of needs started taking shape in his mind.
“We need more project managers,” Sue said.
“I know two werewolves who would be perfect for it.”
“Char will lose her mind if the entire pack stays here, although Shonna would love to get back to engineering—and Merrit. What the hell does he do again?”
“I thought he was a chemist, but I don’t remember. It’s been so long since he’s done anything other than being man-candy for his woman.”
Sue slapped Timmons on the arm. “Is that how you think of me?”
“I was thinking that’s how you thought of me!” He smiled to show his perfect white teeth.
“Char was right about you.” Sue stepped away from her mate, crossing her arms and glaring.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we need to cut off a hand and rein you back in.”
“Whoa! Enough hand-cutting talk.” Timmons grimaced, flinching as if it had just happened. “That hurt a shitload and it sucked like you can’t believe, hopping around on three legs. Don’t even joke about that.”
Timmons turned away and Sue hugged him from behind. “I’ll protect you from the alpha,” she purred, and he grasped her arms where they came around his chest.
“As long as we do right by them it’ll be good. Look at this shipyard: give us a couple weeks and the Bad Company’s shipbuilding and repair branch will be open for business. We may have to build a gate to bring in more customers and trade. Make this a real stop on the highway to progress.”
“I’m not sure Nathan would like that. He likes having his secrets, like Keeg Station.”
“He can build another station in the middle of nowhere. If we’re going to make this place ours, it needs to be mainstream. What do you think, Felicity?”
“I think I miss my husband.”
Sue slid one hand down Timmons’ back to grab his butt. “I know what she means,” she whispered in his ear.
“And I agree,” Felicity drawled. “I loved how San Francisco was constantly growing. Keeg Station in the Dren Cluster is open for business. Come one, come all.”
The War Axe
The War Axe crossed the event horizon into the space beside Keeg Station.
“Hoods,” Micky said. The bridge crew released their hoods and helped them retract into the backs of their collars. “It’s nice to be home.”
Terry and Char looked at the station that loomed large in the viewscreens which made up the front wall of the ship’s bridge.
“Home,” Char whispered. Cory stood beside her, gazing out through vacant eyes.
Terry cupped their faces in his hands. “Home is anywhere you are.” Cory tried to nod, but stopped and looked at her feet.
“Cordelia Dawn we named you, because on the day of your birth we lost the chief of the tribe. With each person’s passing a new day arises; a void needs to be filled. We pack that space with our memories and a sound way ahead, because time will always move forward, second after second. We are along for the ride, no matter what.”
Char hugged her daughter wit
h one arm as Terry caressed their cheeks.
“Home is anywhere you are,” Micky offered, tapping the arm of the captain’s chair.
Char looked up and smiled for the first time in days.
FINIS
Price of Freedom, Book 3 of The Bad Company
If you like this book, please leave a review. Reviews buoy my spirits and stoke the fires of creativity.
Don’t stop now! Keep turning the pages as Craig & Michael talk about their thoughts on this book and the overall project called the Age of Expansion (and if you haven’t read the eleven-book prequel, the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles, now is a great time to take a look).
Terry, Char, and the rest of the Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch will return in Domination.
Author Notes - Craig Martelle
Written February 14, 2018
I can’t thank you enough for continuing to read this series. Terry Henry Walton and the fine characters who surround him have become a part of my world. I hope they’ve become a part of yours as well. Honor. Courage. Commitment. Something we can all live for and be proud of.
Thank you, Tracey Byrnes for the name that I used for the representative from the Home World captives. Also to Tim Adams—he’s been reading Terry Henry since the beginning and we hadn’t gotten him into a book yet, so I remedied that with this volume. You’ll remember him from Monty Python fame. I had to use the line, although I left off the airspeed velocity of a laden swallow thing because I find the math befuddling.
Staci Armstrong offered Rowan as the name for Brice’s girlfriend, but it was another one of the captives who was introduced to the spice of life. Thanks, Staci. And for Rowan’s acolyte, we’ll call him Chris-bo-Runner on behalf of Diane Brenner. She offered her son to be sacrificed on the author’s altar of posterity.
Thanks, Diane! Party on.
We received a one-star review for Blockade from a person who felt that I was talking down to him in my author notes. Authors should never reply to reviews on Amazon. That’s a safe policy to embrace, but all I can say is that was not my intent and would never be my intent. If someone hates my book, then I question my marketing and how it got into that person’s hand. I don’t ever question the reader or look down on them. I appreciate everyone who picks up one of my books and reads it all the way to the end. That’s boss! Or groovy, or a myriad of era-specific terms. Thank you for reading my books and I hope you enjoy them. Without you, most of these books wouldn’t exist. Without readers, there is very little reason to keep writing.
Price of Freedom: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Bad Company Book 3) Page 19
