Joseph, Petricia, and Bundin had taken the fourth ship to the area controlled by his Pod to start the negotiations.
Eight armored suits had nominal power and two new volunteers manned Cantor’s and Fleeter’s. Kae was pleased that a number of warriors had stepped up.
He wondered at what point the entire company would be mechanized. The suits had made a difference in this conflict. The only one to die had been a mech driver, but while he was outside of his suit at the time. There was much they learned and more to incorporate before their next engagement. Kae had a great deal of work to do, including delivering a fitting eulogy.
Owing to the big door and wide tunnel, the mechs had been a valuable asset in removing all the equipment from the Crenellian headquarters. The small humanoids finally showed emotion as their computers were separated and piled inside the shuttles.
“What happens to us?” Ankh asked.
“You are the only one who seems capable of looking at the big picture. What makes you different and how can we get some of these others to see things that way? It is how the universe works,” Terry explained.
“They consider me a radical.” The small alien never bowed his head or shoulders. He showed no emotion at all.
“In my experience, Ankh, those are the ones who change the world, for both good and bad. But your help has saved lives. I think we could use you as a liaison between the Bad Company and the Crenellian government. Heaven knows that I can’t be trusted to talk with your president.”
“You want me to talk with my president? But I’m not in his class,” Ankh argued.
“Who cares when you graduated?” Terry replied.
“What? He is in a different social class. I am a technician, as are all of us on the Tissikinnon mission. The upper class never leave Crenellia.”
“Maybe it’s time they got out to see the galaxy. It’s a beautiful place out here, Ankh.”
The lights from the mechs and the shuttles cut through the darkness, but the desolation of the area wasn’t very inviting. The constant overcast skies blocked the stars.
“Not so much,” Ankh offered.
“Maybe not right here, but there’s a lot more out there. A whole universe, my small friend.”
“I will consider it,” Ankh said, not changing his expression.
“Tell the others that we’ve sent a message to your president that we will drop you off at Federation Frontier Station Seven, the first gate from this area of space. Your people will be picked up from there, but I expect some of the Federation’s sharpest minds from our research and development group would like to talk with you, too. The Crenellians remind me of a good friend of mine. I think you guys would get along famously with him, outside of the Crenellian proclivity toward genocide, that is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Etheric Empire Research Facility on R2D2
“What am I to do with you,” Felicity drawled. Ted didn’t ignore her. He’d shut out the rest of the world as he focused on the miniaturization and manufacture optimization of gate drive technology.
She knew that he’d become completely absorbed. The R&D station was not designed for any social life because it was built by people just like Ted whose work was paramount to their lives.
Felicity put a hand on her husband’s arm, surprising him. “You haven’t been back to our quarters for two days now. You need to eat and you need to sleep. Remember our deal!” she said forcefully, the only way she’d been able to break Ted out of his complete immersion into his projects.
“Yes. Yes. I know,” he replied with a dismissive wave before turning back to his computer. She didn’t let him. Felicity turned him toward her, making him face her as she held him by the shoulders.
“Ted, if we don’t get off this station, I will die,” she said.
He smirked. “Don’t be so dramatic. Everything you need is here. Everything I need is here,” Ted said slowly, as he did when trying to explain things to his wife.
She knew why he did that. He thought of her as intellectually inferior. She admitted that she didn’t understand the engineering and physics that he lovingly embraced. She knew that he was a true genius, gifted beyond measure, as well as a werewolf, though he hadn’t changed into Were form in decades, maybe even a century or longer.
As long as they’d been together.
“I miss our children,” she told him. Ted was capable of shutting everything and everyone out of his life, except for his children. When the topic came up, he would put aside what he was doing and pay attention.
“I do, too. One of the other teams is working on a comm link to improve how we can talk with Earth. I will make sure that our kids get one of the comm units so you can talk with them whenever you want.”
“I get lonely,” Felicity said softly.
The comm unit buzzed. Ted looked at it oddly. “Lance Reynolds?”
“Good morning, Ted, maybe evening. I don’t know how things translate to where you are. Glad to see you’re up, regardless. Your unit is being reassigned so you get better security for your work. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m putting you on Keeg Station in the Dren Cluster. They have full facilities.”
“Hi, Lance. You are looking as marvelous as ever,” Felicity drawled. “Isn’t that where the Bad Company is located?”
“Only the Direct Action Branch of the Bad Company. You’ll be co-located with Terry and his people.”
Felicity closed her eyes and smiled. “Do they have shops on Keeg Station and a reason to wear nice clothes?”
“They need a station manager, someone who has experience…say, a former mayor for example,” the general replied with a smile. “Would you know anyone like that?”
Ted looked at the screen. “Felicity used to be mayor back in North Chicago,” Ted said as if making a revelation on behalf of his wife.
“Pack your bags. The ship will pick you up today,” the general said. “Reynolds out.”
Ted looked at the blank screen. “But he didn’t ask where I was on my research. I wanted to tell him that I’m getting closer.”
“Of course, Ted dear. We’ll call him back and let him know as soon as we’re packed and on the next ship to our new home with our old friends.”
Poddern
They were still loading the drop ships when Joseph returned. Terry and Char stopped what they were doing. Her helmet was off while her hair dried.
The shuttle landed and the rear ramp dropped. Bundin was the first one out, followed by Joseph and Petricia.
“They’ll have the first shipment ready in two weeks,” Joseph said proudly.
“And from the Crenellian end?”
“They want grass seed and cattle. I gave them some of my beef jerky to try. They were over the moon. So they want to raise their own cattle or bistok. Instead of the Crenellians providing food, the Podders want a means of growing the food themselves.”
Dokken panted with his mouth open at the mention of beef jerky. Everyone nearby held up their hands. They were out.
“Poor puppy. No hot meals on this objective,” Kae said from his armored suit, reiterating TH’s old joke about always telling the troops that there would be hot chow on the objective, whether there would be or not.
No shit, Dokken replied.
“And Bundin?” Terry asked.
“He was hoping to be the first of his people to leave the planet. He’s already a legend for stopping the war.”
“Bundin took all the credit?”
“That was my recommendation. For ending the civil war and finishing the Crenellians. He said it made him popular with the ladies.”
“What the hell is that? And don’t tell me. The way you can tell the women from the men is that they’re blue.”
“Well, yeah…”
On board the War Axe
Micky thought the ship had exceeded its performance limits on the return trip. They had accelerated faster than they were supposedly capable of and stopped in such a short distance that he thought the sail,
the area where the bridge was located, should have been ripped from the ship.
He wondered if Clifton, Smedley, and Suresha had been toying with things, but would check the data when he had time.
The recovery of Terry and his people had gone smoothly. When the War Axe arrived, they sent down the other two shuttles with Smedley flying them and no one aboard as Terry had said he was bringing a bunch of aliens and confiscated equipment back to the ship.
While the War Axe waited in orbit, the structures and stores departments collected as much debris and intact gear as they could from the Crenellian orbital defense system that they’d attacked on their last pass.
They were able to half-fill the hangar bay with mines, two intact fighters, and pieces of the buoy.
Once the shuttles were back aboard, they’d unloaded quickly. Micky had also noted that they’d taken one body bag to the ship’s morgue and one person on a stretcher straight to the Pod Doc. He wondered if every mission was going to be like that.
A blue stalk-headed alien was roaming the corridors in the company of the vampires. A small humanoid alien was doing the same thing, but he was being escorted by Marcie and Kaeden. The other fifty Crenellians they’d pulled from all the outposts were given an excess berthing space where they sat nearly catatonic.
Company warriors stood guard because the group was strictly prohibited from accessing the ship’s computer systems.
“We need to figure out a way to keep them occupied,” Micky said as much to himself as the company in his briefing room.
Terry’s head hung as he sat at the conference table. Micky didn’t know if he was awake or not. Char sat up straight, but her eyes were closed and her mouth hung slack as she was out cold.
The captain watched them briefly, believing that they hadn’t slept for the entire time they’d been on the planet.
“Smedley, activate the comm system and link us through, please.”
Nathan appeared and gave Captain Micky San Marino a hearty good morning. Micky smiled and pointed the camera at the leaders of the Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch. Nathan watched them, shaking his head.
Micky got up and walked behind the two, putting his hands gently on their shoulders. Terry about came out of his skin, making the captain jump back, stumble, and slam into the wall.
Terry mumbled an apology before blinking the hologram into focus. “Oh! Hi, Nathan. How’s it hanging?”
“You’ve looked better, TH. Although Char is spectacular as always. I don’t know why she strapped herself to a goon like you.”
The whites of Char’s eyes showed round as she forced her eyes open, making her look like a zombie.
Which was exactly how she felt.
Terry turned his head, saw her vacant expression, and started to chuckle.
“You have a way with words,” Terry started, before taking a deep breath and repeating the report that he’d prepared in his head.
After two minutes, Nathan stopped him.
“You know who Ronald Reagan was. Remember when he asked for the entire budget of the United States to be condensed down to one page? Give me that version.”
“We ended the war and we made more than we spent. We acquired a Podder and a Crooner for the team. They bring unique capabilities, diversity, strength of mind and character, all of that. I don’t think we’ll be misled again into fighting some knucklehead’s war for him. Were you able to talk with dickface?”
“You mean the president?” Nathan asked, knowing exactly what Terry Henry meant.
The colonel nodded. Nathan leaned close to his monitor. Char hadn’t blinked. He was convinced that she was sound asleep with her eyes wide open. He looked back to Terry.
“Yes. He’s pleased with the outcome and delivered an abject apology. He said that he wasn’t deliberately misleading. I don’t believe him, but we have our money in hand including the bonus and kicker. Your first mission and you are well on your way to paying off the War Axe. Only another three hundred and seven like that and you’ll own it outright.”
“Say what?” Terry raised one eyebrow.
Nathan maintained a dead-pan expression. “Just keep plugging away and you’ll be living the good life, retired on a Caribbean island.”
“Already did that. It’s exhausting.” Terry rubbed the stubble on his face. “I need to put this one to bed.” He pointed to Char. “And then check on my people. You know the status—one lost, one severely injured.”
“General Reynolds has sent Ted and a research group from R2D2 to Keeg Station for security reasons. We’ve received too much intel that suggests the facility is a prime target for undesirables. Ted seemed indifferent, but Felicity was ecstatic, or so I hear. She’s also going to be the station manager. The last one died in a bar fight with an Asplesian.”
“What’s an Asplesian?” Terry mumbled.
“You’ll find out. I’m sure Felicity won’t put up with any of their crap.”
“The old team, back together already. I like it. I’m sure Ted and our Crooner will get along like old buds,” Terry suggested.
“It looks to me like warfighting suits you, TH.” Nathan waved a handful of papers in front of the camera. “I’ve sent a batch of RFPs, requests for proposals, your way. Take a look and see what grabs you. They all need the Bad Company yesterday.”
Nathan and Terry both shook their heads as they looked at the image of the other.
“Will do, when I can see to read the words, Nathan. All I have to say is fuck those guys, and fuck the next bunch too, whoever they may be.”
“Truer words were never spoken. Until then, Terry Henry. Thank you for a job well done.”
The End of The Bad Company
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 ten-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 Bad Company Book 2 - Blockade.
Welcome to the Age of Expansion
Author Notes - Craig Martelle
Written October 4, 2017
Thank you for reading beyond the end of the book and all the way to the author notes. You are the bomb!
If you join my mailing list, you’ll get notified on release day for every new book in this series, and every new book is only 99 cents on release day, as a reward for those who are on my newsletter list and follow me on Facebook. Thank you very much for coming on board. There are so many stories left to tell.
If this is your first foray into the world of Terry Henry Walton, we have some news. There’s about ¾ of a million words of other Terry Henry & Charumati stories out there. Always free in Kindle Unlimited – binge read to your heart’s content. And then there’s the series that spawned the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles – the brainchild of master storyteller, Michael Anderle, the Kurtherian Gambit. Check those books out – twenty one in the main series and four in the Second Dark Ages companion series.
Do you wonder how it all started? Let me tell you a story.
I was active in Michael’s Facebook group 20booksto50k that is all about helping authors understand the business and then realize their dreams. Here’s an email he sent to me on October 12, 2016 (way back when).
Craig:
In books 12 and 13, I have a character (ex-military, mercenary - good-ish guy) that I’m thinking is going to stay on earth instead of going with team(s) due to relationship with a Professor that is also in the stories.
If you are willing, we can talk about whether he is a good character to use for your series as some fans are wanting to know what happens with him. My thought, if you concur, is to juice him up a little for his support of TQB which would allow him to last through the time (spruce him back up and give him enough that he should ‘last’ to 120 - same with her …But, she will die of course) … Plus, Akio would know him (or at least rememb
er him).
He has a certain level of ‘what’s in it for me’ attitude that would fit our story discussions last week.
Not sure how to go from here on the idea… I can pull his chapters maybe? Or just download books 12 and 13 and look for ‘Terry’ (the guy) and read those sections?
Michael.
Simple as that. I received Michael’s email on October 12th of 2016. I didn’t start writing Terry Henry Walton until after Thanksgiving that year. The “her” was Melissa and in order to make Terry Henry a little jaded, that character was murdered on the world’s worst day ever (WWDE) and we introduced the Werewolf Charumati as a character who would stand the test of time and be long enough lived to keep TH company. Char is about twenty-five years older than Terry.
On October 12th, 2017, one year after Michael’s email, we published Gateway to the Universe, the thirteenth book that Michael and I collaborated on, putting us just under 800,000 total words about Terry, Char, and humanity’s return to civilization. With this book, we are where I wanted to finally get to – military science fiction and space opera. I love this stuff. I enjoyed writing Terry & Char on a post-apocalyptic Earth, but in space? There are so many more story lines.
Is Terry a good-ish guy? You can judge for yourself.
Michael contacted me because I’d written a best-selling post-apocalyptic series with the End Times Alaska, I spent twenty years in the Marine Corps, and I’m married to a professor. Seems like Michael wrote Terry Henry Walton just for me. He didn’t, but that’s the story I’ll tell my grandchildren.
And then there are the other spin-offs.
My writing partner in this endeavor is a dynamo when it comes to the self-publishing universe. He has created something wonderful to feed a loyal readership the highest quality stories in a universe that they’re comfortable with. Michael makes magic happen.
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