Char nodded and smiled, shoving her husband forward with a gentle push to the small of his back.
Marcie called for quiet and all eyes locked onto Colonel Terry Henry Walton.
“It’s that time, people. Time to go back to doing what we do best—bringing justice to the universe.” Terry looked at the grim faces. No one cheered. They didn’t need cheerleading, only the details of the mission, including the mission objective. They’d already been briefed repeatedly, but this was Terry’s opportunity to leave them with final thoughts before they jumped into the crucible.
“We need to break a blockade and all we have is the War Axe. If we need you to do damage control, you do damage control. If you have to block an atmospheric leak with your body, you do that. We will do anything and everything to stay in the fight, because we can’t win the fight if we’re not in it. We may have to do some stealthy infiltration. I have an idea what that looks like, but I’m just like you. I’ve never done it before, but if we have to, we’re going to make it look like we’re old pros.
“No matter what, we have to clear the blockade, because the people of Alchon Prime are counting on us. If we are unsuccessful, then they start dying. I can’t have that. We can’t have that. Check your weapons and load up. If anything happens to the Axe, we’re taking the drop ships right down their throats and we’ll enter their ships any way we can. Then we wreak havoc, and they’ll rue the day they crossed the Bad Company.”
Terry pointed to Marcie and twirled his finger. He then pointed at Timmons and signaled for him to join Terry.
Christina came along too, as well as Bundin. Terry looked at the Podder.
“I can help,” Bundin said aloud.
“Sonofabitch!” Terry exclaimed. “That was weird. I thought I heard you with my ears.”
“You did. I have an external speaker attached to the bottom of my shell,” Bundin replied.
“Sonofabitch!” Terry grinned at the blue, stalk-headed Podder. “How can you help us?”
“I can operate in space without a suit. I can help you penetrate an enemy ship without them knowing that I am there.”
“How do you know this?” Terry was skeptical. The Podders were barely industrialized and their only space travel had been from their relations with the Crenellians, which didn’t contain two-way communication.
“A number of us were taken to space and shown the orbital weapons systems. There was an accident and a couple of my people were jettisoned into space. They survived easily and made their way back into the ship. We estimated that they were able to remain in space for up to thirty minutes without ill effects,” Bundin explained.
“Holy shit!” Terry slapped the Podder’s shell. “I like the hell out of that, Bundin. We may need you to repair this ship too, if we take any more hits like we did over Poddern.”
Timmons and Christina arrived and waited patiently while Terry talked with Bundin. When he saw them, he excused himself, still scratching his head over the revelation that the Podders could survive in space without an environmental suit.
“You called, maestro?” Timmons asked. Char tipped her head and looked down at Timmons.
“Too much liberty for you?” she asked.
Timmons chewed the inside of his cheek. “What’s the right answer where I don’t get confined to the ship whenever we get a chance for more time off?” he replied.
“Get yourself under control. You can’t show up for a mission looking like you’re on your death bed!” Char blurted. At one point, she’d had to cut off Timmons’s hand to make her point about who was the alpha and who did as the alpha directed. He had never forgotten that lesson. It took getting horribly burned by acid to remove the silver that had kept his hand from growing back. He appreciated his return to being a fully intact werewolf.
“Point taken.” He bowed before Charumati, sweeping his hand wide. “It shall be as you determine, my alpha.”
“Once I find a boyfriend, I won’t have to hang out with this mob of delinquents,” Christina suggested, pointing with her eyes at Timmons. His lip curled of its own accord.
“A boyfriend?” Terry asked as he joined the conversation. “We can’t be thinking about boyfriends. We’re going to war.”
Christina shook her head. “I’m not thinking about that at all. I don’t have one. Honestly, are all men like this, only hear half of what you say?” Christina looked at Char.
“Not all, but most,” she replied, nodding toward TH.
He gave them both the stink-eye. “Christina. I need you to train up on the suits. You too, Timmons, and the pack, including the weretigers. Our twelve best in hand-to-hand combat need to be able to use the suits to travel through space, manipulate tools, and bring down the thunder.”
“I don’t think Kae and his people will like that,” Christina said, turning her head sideways to glance at the mechs as they performed their dexterity routine before climbing aboard the drop ships.
The Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch always boarded the drop ships whenever they gated, just in case an enemy was waiting for them on the other side. The shuttles gave them an escape, a way to attack, a way to survive. At some point, Terry would revise the tactics, but not yet.
“No choice, Christina. If we’re going to get into a throw-down with aliens, I need you there. I need the pack, and I need Marcie, Kim, and Kae. The deadliest among us will lead the way, as we’ve always done. From the days of the FDG until now, those with the superior abilities have the responsibility to lead the way, assume a higher level of risk. We’ll swap with Kae and his people after we’ve gotten the lay of the land, so to speak. For now, it’s best that those most familiar with the suits stay in them, but get ready to swap out and train as soon as humanly possible.”
“Will do,” Christina and Timmons replied together.
“Can you let Kae know, to lessen the friction?” Timmons added.
“He already knows.” Terry was all business. “The decision is made and at this point, it’s about following orders. Get to your ships and get your people ready as we transit to Alchon space. I don’t expect there will be anything for us, but you know how that usually works out.”
Timmons started to laugh. “No plan survives first contact, and this is a real first contact. We really don’t know anything about this bunch running the blockade? Aliens, not aliens, nothing?”
“Nothing. It’s up to us to figure it out and fix it.”
“That doesn’t instill confidence, TH.” Timmons looked to Christina. The unknowns of the mission were reflected in her skeptical look.
“I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass. We don’t know jack shit except that if the alien fleet is too much for us, we have to get Alchon Prime to request to join the Federation. Then General Reynolds can send a few dreadnoughts and battleships to give us a hand. That’s our ace in the hole, assuming we can communicate with Alchon Prime when we get there.”
Timmons looked like he wanted to say something else, but Marcie and Kimber were barking orders, sending the groups to their separate drop ships. The mechs took up a great deal of space and were given two ships just for them, while the rest of the Bad Company filled out the other four.
“Time to go, my friends,” Char said as Terry watched the groups move to their assigned shuttles.
Smedley, can you give the order for hoods, please, Terry requested.
Almost instantly, over the hangar bay’s loudspeakers bellowed General Smedley Butler’s voice. “HOODS!” With well-practiced motions, as one, the warriors pulled their hoods from behind their necks and snapped them into place. Internal suit pressure filled them out and the group of bubble-heads continued unimpeded into their drop ships.
Terry and Char bumped their bubbles, as they’d taken to doing whenever they pulled their shipsuit hoods up. They held each other and looked into each other’s eyes through the clear hoods. They both mouthed, “I love you,” and then they put on their war faces and went to work.
Chapter Seven
“Bad Compa
ny personnel show green,” Smedley reported.
The captain nodded. “Hoods, please,” he said conversationally. The bridge crew pulled their hoods into place.
“The ship is green,” Smedley verified.
“Ted?” Micky asked.
“We will gate to a point well within the heliosphere, one hundred thousand kilometers from the closest alien vessel. The sensors have been upgraded and will begin feeding data to the system immediately upon arrival. Gravitic shields are active and in place. Weapon systems are hot and will remain that way through the jump. Targeting is slaved to the bridge station for weapons release.”
Micky whistled before smiling. K’Thrall turned his chair around to look at the captain. He’d been told what the upgrades would do, but hadn’t believed it.
“I’ve never heard that any of that was possible, no matter the ship,” the Yollin said.
“As a fleet that contains one ship, our survivability chances have vastly improved. Take charge of the weapon systems and prepare for defensive fire. The mains on my command only. We don’t want to scare the aliens. Not too much, anyway.”
Micky leaned back in the captain’s chair. He looked from station to station, received the manual thumbs up, which he liked in addition to the status board that showed green.
“Commander Suresha?” Micky asked.
“Main engines are ready for maximum maneuverability. Gate engines are at capacity. On your command, Captain.”
“Ship-wide broadcast, Smedley, count us down.”
The EI’s voice counted down pleasantly from ten to one, and then the gate formed in front of the War Axe. Clifton goosed the engines and the ship darted across the event horizon and through the gate.
The crew didn’t feel the change. Technology protected them from the turbulence as the ship transitioned from normal space to the wormhole and back to normal space within the blink of an eye.
“Twenty alien ships on the screen in a rough ellipsis around Alchon Prime. Two ships are on an intercept course. Their speed is increasing,” K’Thrall reported.
“Move us away at an offset of ninety degrees. Don’t show our ass to those things,” Micky ordered. “Tactical display on the main screen, Smedley.”
The positions of the planets and alien ships appeared at the front of the bridge.
“What are those ships on the perimeter of the heliosphere?”
“Those are transports and cargo ships who are on the wrong side of the blockade,” K’Thrall replied. “And those green blips around Alchon Prime are friendlies stuck on that side.”
“At least the aliens are leaving them alone. Let’s join our fellows at the edge of interstellar space.”
“Aliens are firing.”
Micky lurched forward in his seat. “Brace for impact!” he shouted over the broadcast.
“It’s an energy beam of some sort. The gravitic shields shunted the beam away from us, but not without losing some of their power,” K’Thrall intoned. “Aliens are firing again.”
Micky didn’t issue a second warning.
“We are caught in a crossfire. The energy beams are electromagnetic pulses, EMPs.”
“ENOUGH!” Micky roared, giving up on outrunning the enemy ships. “Helm, bring us about. Prepare to fire the mains.”
“Helm is coming about. Holy crap, this thing turns on a moonstone!” Clifton exclaimed.
“Weapons are true. I have the helm,” K’Thrall reported as he took over attitude control to keep the main weapons aimed at the target. “Firing. Ten salvos away.”
Micky watched as the enemy ships started to change course, but they were too slow compared to the War Axe’s main weapons, which fired super-heated plasma at nearly the speed of light.
The first three rounds missed, but the next seven walked across one ship, ending with a spectacular explosion. K’Thrall fired again. Ten more salvos in a computer-calculated arc across the projected flight path of the enemy ship. Only four plasma bolts hit, but that was enough. The enemy ship split in half, and flashes of light signaled the death knell. Darkness enveloped what had moments before been a vibrant bastion of life operating within the harshness of space.
“Get us out of here,” Ted requested over the ship’s broadcast. “Their weapon took the shields offline. I don’t know why they’re down, but if we take one more EMP hit, we’ll be dead.”
Ted’s voice came through as an unemotional clinical analysis. The coldness of it shook the captain to his core.
“Helm, move us to a safe distance. Systems, are any enemy ships moving to intercept?”
“They are maneuvering, reducing the distance between their ships, but they are not closing on us.”
“Very well,” Micky replied as he stroked his chin. “Ted, how long do you think it’ll take to repair the gravitic shields?”
“I just told you that I don’t know why they are down. Until I can determine why, I can’t tell you how long. I’m glad that I brought Plato along as he will help expedite the process, but if we’re killed, we will lose not one, but two AIs. Whatever you do, Captain, please do not get us killed.”
Micky looked in surprise at the arm of his captain’s chair where the broadcast controls resided. “I will do my very best to keep us alive, Ted,” he replied, trying not to sound sarcastic.
He knew Ted was being serious.
“Smedley, give me ship-wide,” the captain requested while watching the enemy blips on the big screen. “Attention all hands. Our shields are down, and we are in the process of making repairs. Until they are operational, we will avoid all contact with the alien fleet. We are moving near the stalled shipping and will remain there for the near term. Keep your shipsuits on and be prepared to hood at any moment as you return to your normal duties. Captain San Marino out.”
He tapped his access panel. “TH, meet me in my briefing room, please.”
* * *
“Report to your damage control stations!” Terry ordered the members of the Bad Company. “And stay frosty!”
He usually added that as one of his favorite lines from Aliens.
“What do you think he wants?” Char asked as they watched the tac teams, mechs, and platoon members exit the drop ships.
“How do we fight these Fuckbert McAssholefaces?” Terry replied, scowling. “I have an idea or two. We’ll need our people there too, if we’re going to talk tactics.”
Terry switched to his comm chip. Timmons, Christina, Joseph, Marcie, Kim, Kae, and Aaron. Report to the captain’s briefing room.
Char nodded to the group as they approached. Dokken ran to greet them.
“Is it okay if we just walk with you?” Joseph asked. The others laughed or shook their heads.
“I’m still getting used to this thing,” Terry said, tapping the side of his head with a finger.
“Your brain?” Timmons deadpanned.
“Very funny. Since I like you, I’ll kill you last,” Terry responded, making a pistol with his fingers and pointing it at the werewolf.
“In Timmons’s defense, that’s what I thought, too,” Christina added innocently. “Aren’t we supposed to report upstairs?”
“Rightly so.” Terry and Char turned as one and strode toward the hatch leading from the War Axe’s hangar bay. The group followed, with Yanmei and Petricia joining them as they always did. Cory, Ramses, and Auburn followed, too. Dokken weaved his way between the humans’ legs as he worked toward the front of the crowd.
“The captain needs a bigger conference room,” Char suggested.
Terry nodded, but didn’t speak. He was already focused on the enemy. His mind raced through the possibilities. He hadn’t been privy to the weapons that the aliens used, but he suspected that it was enough to drive the War Axe away. Terry listened as if he could hear how much the ship had been damaged.
And then he remembered what he forgot. He didn’t have to guess.
Smedley, what kind of damage did we take from the aliens? Terry asked.
>>The alien ships used
an EMP weapon and caused our gravitic shields to fail. Ted is very concerned,<< Smedley replied.
No other damage besides that?
>>That was plenty, I assure you.<<
Thanks, General. Ted is on it, I suppose. Any idea when he’ll have it fixed?
>>He does not have a repair estimate because he does not know how the damage was caused.<<
Terry contemplated the answer as they climbed the six flights of stairs to get to the bridge level. He didn’t come up with another question before they arrived.
One by one, they filed in. Terry stood to let others sit. Micky was already seated while K’Thrall stood. He was a four-legged Yollin, which made sitting in a human chair problematic. Joseph offered his chair to Petricia and Aaron offered his to Yanmei. Neither sat. Char stood as well.
The captain started to laugh. “Fine. Either we all sit or no one sits. Is this your way of telling me to get a bigger briefing room?”
Terry smiled and tipped his chin with a quick nod.
“Next time, we’ll use the combat operations center, the COC on the third level. Next time. For now, let me show you what we have.” Micky brought up the holographic display centered over the table that showed the Alchon System with the stylized graphics showing friendly and enemy forces.
Every face leaned in to study the graphic.
“Ted, do you have a status for us?” Micky asked loudly.
A disembodied voice responded, “No,” followed by a crackle as the comm channel closed.
Terry and Char both chuckled. “Welcome to working with Ted,” Terry said, before turning serious. “But what you get from him will be nothing less than the very best.” Others nodded.
“Can you replay the engagement?” Marcie asked.
“Of course,” Smedley replied over the speakers.
It started with their appearance through the gate, approaching the alien ships at an angle. Then the maneuvering began, followed by the mains firing and destroying the two ships that had broken the picket to engage the War Axe.
“I like the main guns,” Kaeden whispered to his sister. She smiled and nodded. The icon of the War Axe flashed yellow and then turned red.
The Bad Company™ Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 26