The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Box Set

by J. D. Oppenheim

  “Are you gonna shoot me, too?” she said.

  Jolo lowered the gun.

  “Jolo, Please let him at least speak before you dump him out into space. This isn’t like you.”

  “How would you know?” Jolo snarled. “You don’t know me!”

  “Yes, I do,” she yelled right back. “I’ve watched you do the right thing every time,” she said. “You saved the people on Qualus. You allowed Marco to call you son, to love you, even though you weren’t sure. You tried to save the girl you loved.”

  Jolo pressed the green button on the wall. The door slid open and the Vellosian stepped into the hold. He sat on a small box and stared at Jolo and Katy like a teacher pondering two students.

  Jolo holstered the Colt. “What do you mean, you made me?”

  “My friend and colleague Jamis and I were pulled from Vellos before the BG destroyed the planet. At first, we thought fate had spared us, but soon we realized the Bakanhe Grana had taken us so that we could build them an army of synthetic beings under their control. They used one of the old Vellosian labs on Montag. We could not escape and could not get word to anyone in the Federation powerful enough to matter so we thought we would be forced to do the Emperor’s bidding and then be surely killed when he had no use of us.

  And then there was an attack by the Fed on Montag led by none other than Jolo Vargas, the great Federation war hero. The BG were victorious and Vargas died. The Emperor celebrated your death and when other Fed marines’ bodies were simply recycled, yours was kept as a trophy in the hall of the Emperor.

  It stayed there several days until one day it was gone. I got a hold of the body and went to work. I am a Vellosian, a Creator making a bio-synth army for the BG, yet they underestimated my abilities. Did they not realize what I could do with you? They left Vargas’s body in a stasis box in a pile of recyclable waste. I took your body and placed it in one of my growth tanks surrounded by thousands of other tanks. Once the recycle bot took your stasis container away no one was the wiser.”

  “So who am I?” said Jolo.

  “You are a mix of bio-synth and human,” said the Vellosian. He put his hand on Jolo’s face. “You are your own man, but there is a large part of Jolo Vargas in you as well. Your body knows who you are.”

  “So I’m no better than one of your synths?”

  “No. You are much more than that. You have all of their powers. And you have your humanity. That frail quality the BG consider a weakness, yet makes all of you so confounding and wonderful.”

  “What about my father? He thinks I’m Jolo.”

  “Well, you are Jolo. Mostly. And why should he not love you and accept you.”

  “And what of the girl, Jaylen. The one I knew on the gunboat?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Merthon. “That was… that was a contrivance. A planted memory that never was. A piece of the other Jolo that I used for your mission.”

  “Mission?”

  “Yes, the mission to save Jamis and me and then help prove the BG are not the Fed’s allies.”

  “So you put me in a coffin tube and blasted me off that little dirt clod of a planet heading straight for Fed space just knowing I’d come back for the girl.”

  “It was a Racellian escape pod.”

  “So tight I couldn’t scratch my ass!”

  “But you made it home. I knew you would. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I used your humanity against you. Uh, for us. For the Federation. You must help us, Jolo. Only a former Federation hero can sway the powers that be.”

  “I guess you miscalculated on that last part. The Fed have me pegged as a spy.”

  “Yes, but you made it. And you saved me and now you know the truth of it. The BG are going to attack the core.”

  Jolo stood up. Put his hand on the smooth wooden handle of the Colt, eyed the air lock door and took a deep breath. “You can stay here. But I don’t want to see you anywhere near the bridge. When we get to Marco’s I’ll let him deal with you. I am not your little toy and if Katy wasn’t here I might have sent you straight out the hole into space.”

  “Thank you for everything,” said Merthon. He stood and bowed low.

  Jolo held out his hand to Katy and they walked together to the mess hall.

  “You did the right thing. Again,” said Katy, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. “But there’s one small detail you forgot.” He looked down at her with no expression and waited. “Merthon saved your life,” she said. Suddenly the pain in his chest and leg started to come back.

  “My life,” he said. “I ain’t even sure who I am.” He couldn’t process any of it right now and didn’t want to. All he knew was that it felt good to be with Katy.

  “You ain’t a synth, are you?” said Jolo.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had in a long while.”

  “What do we do now?” said Katy. “The Fed and the BG are going to be coming for us.”

  “You forgot the bit about the BG having an army of synthetic girl assassins: faster, stronger and smarter than any human. And I don’t think they made ‘em to help grow kale on Harvel 2.”

  Katy stopped walking and stared at Jolo with big, wide eyes. Jolo could see she was starting to breath a little faster and had that same pained look on her face like she got when they were doing something crazy in a gunboat.

  Jolo put his hands on her shoulders. “Listen. I don’t care who’s coming for us. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

  “Okay,” she said, and took a deep breath. “I just wish we hadn’t pissed off all of the major governments in the galaxy.”

  “We ain’t pissed off the pirates.”

  He smiled and led her into the mess hall and ordered the bot to bring two cups of coffee.

  43 Days to Oblivion

  Book 2 in the Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series

  Copyright © 2019 by J.D.Oppenheim

  All rights reserved.

  scifiwriterjdo@gmail.com

  Fortinbras

  Deep space, near the Arcon 7 jump point

  The UFP freighter Fortinbras was ten times the size of the Argossy, but Jolo Vargas put his ship square in front of the big cargo hauler and waited. This was his favorite part. The cat and mouse. What was the captain in the big ship made of? Would he crumble at the mere mention of the name Jolo Vargas, who had a reputation as a ruthless killer.

  Jolo had truly come to be a clever pirate in the last six months since the attack on Montag, but the people in Fed space knew him as an evil monster mainly due to the Federation government’s smear campaign. They didn’t want the old Jolo, the war hero the people once loved, to stir up the military against the BG and destabilize the fragile peace, so they created a monster of him in the people’s minds. To the typical Fed commoner, the old Jolo was dead, replaced by nothing more than a synth who enjoyed harassing and stealing from hard working people.

  This worked just fine for Jolo and his crew and their new gig as space pirates. Far greater than bigger guns and a faster ship, a pirate’s greatest weapon was fear, and Jolo Vargas was feared most of all.

  “Katy, how we looking,” said Jolo.

  “We’re clear,” said Katy, checking her monitor. The cargo hauler and the Argossy were the only two boats in the sector. Jolo wanted to get in and out cleanly.

  "I hope they got a black box," said Greeley, smiling like a kid headed to market with money in his pocket. A black box usually contained Fed issue military components. For your typical space pirate, it was gold. You could sell anything from a black box just about anywhere on the fringes of Fed space and have a nice long line waiting for it. They didn’t come around often and even if you knew one was on a freighter, finding the one box in a giant ship with multiple storage holds was difficult. Sometimes freighter captains hid the black boxes in with the rations and perishable bio boxes in case of pirate attack. Jolo had snagged two black boxes in his six month stint as a pirate, but that was early on. The freighter captains were starting
to hide the military stuff in secret compartments on their ships, some were even mounting larger guns, forgoing storage capacity to defend against attack.

  "Good luck finding one on that giant beast," said Koba.

  "Need a few more black box deals and I’ll be buying a little spread on Barc," said Greeley.

  “Barc?” said Koba. “Nothing but ocean and fish. How about Flannery in the Seguba system? They got sweet beaches and pretty girls and Fed credits actually have a little value there. Barc ain’t got shit.”

  “Koba, for a smart dude you shore are dumb as shit sometimes. You think the Fed’s gonna let any of us just roll up an buy some land in friggin’ Flannery? Wanted by all Federation planets, a big red X across our names? They’d hang any of us.”

  “Oh. I guess you are right,” said Koba, and the mood turned sour.

  “Katy,” Jolo said. “Keep us nose to nose. Uncomfortably close. I want proximity warnings going off on the bridge. Koba, show him the guns.” Koba touched the switch on screen and the big railguns popped out on either side of the Argossy. This was usually all it took.

  But not this time.

  “Hurley,” Jolo called down to engineering on the comm. “How we doin’?”

  “We full up, Captain,” the old man said. “We can give ‘em hell and have enough juice to jump twice.”

  Jolo hailed the big boat, but still no answer. “Katy, we still clear?”

  “One big transport just popped in on the outer edge. Can’t get a make on it.”

  Still no communication from the freighter.

  “Katy, love tap.” They’d done this before. Katy rammed into the nose of the Fortinbras.

  And that did it.

  “This is Captain James Franks of the UFP Fortinbras. Get off my bow.”

  “Captain, this is Jolo Vargas. I’ll take five containers of Fed rations and you may pass unharmed,” said Jolo. At this point most freighter captains cut communications and just released the goods, slowly backing away then jumping out. But this time was different.

  “No. You won’t,” said the freighter captain. “Now get that antique boat out of my way.”

  Something’s wrong, thought Jolo. What’s he hiding? Fear was the accustomed response. “I don’t like it,” Jolo said, off comm. “He’s acting cocky. What’s his game?” Then he called to George, who had suited up and jet-packed out to the under belly of the freighter. He’d welded the door to the Fortinbras’s fleet of pirate buster drones shut. “You got the door locked?” said Jolo.

  “It’s locked, Captain,” said George, floating under the big ship, his welding gear in a small container next to him.

  “Ok. Come on home,” said Jolo. “Katy, we still clear?”

  “Yes, Captain. Still got the transport out aways, but no other boats in the sector.”

  “This don’t smell right,” said Jolo. “Katy, back off slowly. Koba, keep the shields up and the guns hot and ready.”

  “What’s wrong, Captain?” said Koba.

  “He ain’t acting scared.”

  Jolo grabbed the comm: “Captain, I got your little drone bots all nice and locked up. There’s not a BG boat in the sector and even if one of those shiny, black bastards were near, I doubt he’d come to your rescue,” said Jolo.

  “Well, you’ve miscalculated this time, Vargas,” said the freighter captain.

  “Captain! Another ship just popped up on screen!” said Katy.

  “What is it?”

  Katy waited for computer to id the boat. “BG cruiser. Coming in fast! It was hiding next to the transport!” yelled Katy.

  “Alright,” said Jolo. “Now things startin’ to make sense. Katy, get us out of here!” No sense in taking on a cruiser if he could jump out instead. Katy turned the Argossy and started to run.

  But just then a loud BOOM reverberated through the old ship as the Argossy took a hit from an ion cannon. Then two more ear-splitting, bone jarring blasts hit the smaller ship. The thrusters lost power and the nose swung around like they’d hit a meteor. The inertial dampeners couldn’t compensate and everyone hit the deck. The lights in the bridge went out and the air pumps stopped. Jolo tried to call down to engineering but the comm was dead.

  “Everyone okay?” Jolo yelled in the darkness. The air inside the Argossy was tingly and electrified and Jolo could smell burned metal.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Katy said, scrambling back to her seat in the dark.

  “Where’d it come from?” said Koba.

  “The cruiser is still too far out.”

  “The hauler’s got a cannon,” said Jolo. “Sneaky bastards. Where’s George?”

  “He was on his way back,” said Katy.

  “Let’s hope he was clear,” said Jolo. “Y’all stay put, I’m going to engineering.” Jolo ran through the corridors of the Argossy in the dark all the while wincing at the thought of another shot from the Fortinbras. His father, Marco, said the Argossy would always bring you home, but could it withstand another hit? How could he have missed the gun? It must’ve been a huge cannon. His shields were up and charged but three blasts had disabled his ship.

  He made it down the stairs to engineering, both hands on the rails because he couldn’t see the steps. It was strangely quiet and dark. No sounds from either of the big engines, not even the hum of an air mover, all the control screens were black. “Hurley!” Jolo yelled. No answer. So he crawled on the floor searching with his hands in the darkness until he stumbled upon the thin old man laying on the floor. He gently shook him and Hurley started to moan, then made a few sounds. Jolo sat him up and the old man said one word: “kicker.”

  “Yes, yes,” Jolo said. “Can you engage the kicker?”

  “Yeah, why haven’t they finished us off?” said Hurley.

  “I don’t know.”

  The kicker was a self-contained reserve engine that could supply a minimal amount of power and maneuverability while they assessed the damage. Two minutes later and they had just enough power for life support and other critical functions. By then Jolo was back on the bridge.

  “Where’s the cruiser?” said Jolo.

  “Near the freighter,” said Katy. Her words soft and solemn. The forward screens powered on and they could see the sleek, black ship, small next to the Fortinbras. And there, perched atop the third compartment of the freighter, was a huge, retractable, ion cannon. Jolo held Katy’s hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see it.”

  “Not your fault,” she said. “It was hidden.”

  “That’s a custom job. The Allesar 405 Class freighters aren’t supposed to have top-mounted cannons,” said Koba.

  They all waited for the final shot to take them out. The first volley had crippled the ship, putting them in a slow spin a hundred meters out from the Fortinbras, but still too close. And where was George? thought Jolo.

  They all eyed the black ship on screen as it came up to the freighter. It would pass the big ship and pour all of her fire power at the Argossy.

  And then a strange thing happened.

  The Bakanhe Grana cruiser, one of the ships supposed to be protecting the shipping lanes from pirates, opened fire on the Fortinbras. The first shot took out the huge cannon, the next blew a hole in the bridge. Jolo and the crew watched in horror as debris flew out of the hole into the vacuum of space, most of it indiscernible at this distance, but Jolo could see a few bits of bright yellow streaking out into the blackness, the same color as the UFP Freight Lines jumpsuits that crew members wore.

  The BG cruiser took out the rear engines next, completely killing the big ship. Then it slowly, patiently, cut a gaping hole in the central compartment. The main support structure was severed and the long tube of a ship bent into an “L” shape in the middle. Fed containers started spilling out, floating off in all directions. Two BG warriors with jet-packs flew into the hole and a few minutes later came out with a black box.

  “My damn box,” muttered Greeley under his breath.

  The crew wa
s dumbfounded, but finally Katy snapped out of it.

  “Captain, I can get us close enough to take a shot at the BG,” she said.

  “Negative,” said Jolo. “If we stick our necks out and a Fed patrol catches us we’ll all be headed to a work planet or hanged.”

  “But, Captain—” she said. But Jolo cut her off.

  “Katy, not another word. Now give us a quick burst from the kicker that’ll push us further away from the BG boat, but make sure we end up in a slow dead spin.” A few seconds later the Argossy was slowly moving away from the fracas.

  “Hurley, shut us down. Go dark!” he yelled into the comm. And the old ship went dark again. Jolo kept one screen going on the bridge and watched the BG boat as it loaded the black box into a storage bay.

  “Hurley, we got enough juice to defend ourselves?”

  “The little kicker’ll give you good shields or maybe two good cannon rounds, but not both,” said Hurley. Jolo thought for a moment.

  “Okay, if the BG boat comes we’ll wait naked, pretend we’re dead, then hit it with everything we’ve got.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Greeley!” yelled Jolo. “Take Koba and Katy and y’all get suited up and get out of here. If the BG are coming to kill us, no sense in all of us going down. There’s three suits left and that’ll give y’all a few hours. Keep the Fortinbras in your sights. I’ll call Marco and have him come for you.”

  “What about you?” said Katy. “You have to come, too!”

  “If the BG boat comes, I’m going to give it hell. It’s our best chance to survive this. If it doesn’t come, I’ll pick you up. Please go.” Katy was crying. Jolo gave her a hug, and then grabbed Greeley. “Keep her safe. The BG boat probably won’t pick you up on a scan and probably doesn’t care. The Fortinbras may have some compartments with air. Go there if you have to. Oh, and find George.”

  Greeley looked into Jolo’s eyes. “I’ll take care of her. Be smart.”

  “If that black bastard comes it’s in for a surprise. I’ll kill it and you guys can make it out of here. Now go!”