Liberation: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Bad Company Book 4)

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Liberation: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Bad Company Book 4) Page 15

by Craig Martelle


  “She’s going to be gone for twenty years?” Terry looked disappointed.

  “Maybe. No one knows until she returns to the world,” Sylvia clarified. “It’s her time, Grandpa. I clarified it for Mom, but I’ll tell you, too. We aren’t angry with you. We aren’t upset with you. We love our family, and it took an alien to remind us to say it.”

  “Bundin?”

  “The ship couldn’t land, so he jumped. He got all fucked up bouncing through a tree, but Aunt Cory fixed him with that blue trick of hers.”

  Terry bit his lip. Char poked him in the ribs.

  “I’m coming to space. It’s time to leave Earth behind. I hope you don’t mind. I’m bringing my girlfriend, too,” Kailian chimed in.

  “You’re coming with us?” Cory looked shocked. “You didn’t say anything about a girlfriend.”

  “I’m kidding about the girlfriend. I hear alien chicks are hot!” He bobbed his head and licked his lips.

  “Somebody punch him,” Cory said. Sylvia held her head in her hands and groaned.

  Dokken barked.

  “Dokken! I miss you,” Terry said.

  “He didn’t miss me,” Sylvia stated, looking directly at her grandfather.

  “Goes without saying, but my dog…”

  I’m not your dog. My God, is he untrainable? Dokken asked. Cory laughed.

  “We’re going to be on our way, Dad, Mom. We’re coming home.”

  The final image before the screen went blank showed Terry and Char waving.

  “Alien chicks?” Sylvia slapped her cousin.

  “That’s as offensive as a Walton who’s a vegetarian. Your grandmother is a werewolf!” he prodded.

  “And proudly so. Leave, you tactless buffoon. I won’t be insulted in my own house!” She stomped a foot and pointed. He lifted one eyebrow. She laughed in reply. “I can’t be mad at you, cousin.”

  “I can be mad at all of you,” Cory said. “But I’m not.”

  Cory looked at her daughter through the blue glow, with eyes that sparkled once again.

  “How are we going to get Bundin into the ship?” Kailin interrupted.

  Onyx Station

  “Terry left us here,” Aaron said, unsure if he was supposed to feel annoyed or happy at the revelation.

  “If you want to be sad about something, be sad that they’ll be back to collect us in a week when the others return from their misadventures around the galaxy,” Yanmei replied.

  “What do you want to do?” Aaron asked.

  “What can’t we do on the ship or Keeg Station?”

  “Most excellent point,” Aaron answered. He stood to leave their temporary quarters. He stopped and looked at Yanmei. “What can’t we do?”

  “Didn’t you see those spacefighters in the hangar bay when we arrived?”

  “Yes,” Aaron said, drawing out the word.

  “We learn to fly them and take a couple back with us.”

  “Wouldn’t they throw us in jail for that?”

  “We will clear it with Nathan, if he’s still here.” Yanmei headed toward the door.

  “And if he’s not?”

  “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

  “When did you become a bad girl?” Aaron said, intrigued.

  “Once or twice a century, I let her out to play.” Yanmei traced a finger up Aaron’s throat to his mouth. “Meow.”

  She walked away and Aaron ran to catch up. In his haste, he nearly brained himself on the doorway.

  Keeg Station

  “K’Thrall, bring the platoon to attention,” Kimber ordered.

  The Yollin turned toward the formation. “Attention, please,” he said pleasantly. Kimber started to shake, her head vibrating as if it would explode. Auburn jumped in to save her.

  “Come to attention!” he yelled. Bodies snapped into position. “Come on, man. With some gusto!”

  “I’m Yollin,” K’Thrall replied.

  “Come on, Yollin. With some gusto!”

  “Attention!” K’Thrall said loudly. “Please.”

  The recruits snickered.

  “Keep your bodies locked up,” Kimber said, stepping smartly toward the first squad to conduct the daily uniform inspection.

  “I hear they call you Tim,” she said to the new squad leader. He didn’t budge. “Good job. Starting to get some scuffs on your shipsuit. Make sure it maintains its integrity, and when all else fails?”

  “Make sure I have duct tape with me.”

  “Exactly,” Kimber replied, slapping him on the arm.

  She went to the next member of the squad. “Bon Tap. Turn around.” The Malatian executed an about-face. His hair was plastered to his head, twisted and packed tightly.

  “That looks like a tumor,” she told him. “If you can attract a mate with that, she’ll be a keeper.”

  “Or someone who doesn’t care about silver hair,” Auburn whispered from behind the formation.

  “You could be the trendsetter for your whole race,” Kim offered.

  “I doubt that. Our traditions lean toward the spectacular.”

  “Did you hear that?” Kim said, raising her voice so the whole platoon could hear. “Our Malatian comrade has volunteered to arrange the graduation party. He said it will be spectacular!”

  “I don’t think that’s what I said,” he stuttered.

  “Carry on,” Kim stated and moved to the next recruit.

  In the third squad, the Ixtali stood with her robe covering her four legs. The race of arachnid-like beings was halfway between spiders and humans in their evolution. They had multi-faceted eyes and two sets of fangs, a single pair vertically-oriented and one horizontally-oriented.

  Slikara’s diet was heavily reliant on protein. When they pushed the bistok into the pen instead of slaughtering it, she was the most put out, almost depressed by the nearness of the pulsing blood and fresh meat. She usually ate alone.

  “Auburn says that your shipsuit should be ready in a day or two. You’re the last one. Once you’re set up, we’re taking the whole platoon outside for maneuvers.”

  “I look forward to it. It’s hard to be a part of the team when you’re not a part of the team.”

  “You’re a recruit with everyone else. What do you mean you’re not part of the team?”

  She didn’t reply to the question.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Kimber roared, storming through the middle of the ranks to get back in front. She faced them, fury seizing her features. “Are you telling me that this fucking mob is treating one of our own differently? On your faces and push that deck until I get tired!”

  The recruits dutifully assumed the push-up position and started counting the repetitions. Auburn and Christina moved in, watching the angry glances at Slikara.

  “On your feet!” The recruits stood. They breathed heavily through their noses, the discipline of their new lives starting to take hold as they kept their mouths shut. “I can’t make you like anyone, but I can make you respect your fellow warriors. When I give the command to fall out, you will fall out, and fall back in around the sparring ring. Fall out!”

  The recruits took one pace backward, then jogged the ten meters to the small section of the cargo bay that they’d designated the hand-to-hand combat training area. Two recruits rolled the mat out. Everyone waited.

  “We will demonstrate that we fight better as a team. Slikara, in the ring.”

  The Ixtali dutifully complied. She refused to make eye contact with her fellow recruits, looking at the mat as she moved. Christina walked into the ring beside her.

  “We will fight as we really are. No tools. No augmentations. No shipsuits. That’s right, my pretties. We’re going to fight as nature made us.” Christina’s eyes flashed yellow, her pupils changing, her body changing. Claws grew from her canine hands.

  Terrible claws. Christina’s shipsuit was special and flexed with her change to protect her, no matter what form she was in, but she didn’t need it for this. She pulled it off, deftly, witho
ut ripping the material. It dropped to the mat and she kicked it out of the ring. “Weeeellllll?” she hissed in her Pricolici voice.

  Slikara pulled her robe away and threw it aside. The hair of her lower body wasn’t for warmth but to sense the environment around her when in complete darkness. The black threads stuck out like needles. She shuffled her feet to extend her body and stand more naturally with her four legs.

  She opened her mouth wide, splaying her fangs to make them stick straight out.

  K’Thrall threw aside his loose shipsuit, preferring to be without clothes as it let the seams around his carapace breathe.

  “It is my failure to hold the platoon together,” he claimed. “I will be first to fight you both.”

  “When the platoon is ready,” Kim said from the side. She and Auburn made no move to disrobe. Christina’s plan wasn’t their plan. They figured she had everything well in hand.

  The humans seemed to take longest to get naked. Christina started tapping a clawed foot, finally taking steps in their direction to encourage the last of the holdouts to hurry up.

  K’Thrall assumed his fighting position. Yollins were both strong and accomplished in individual combat. It was a part of their culture. K’Thrall could best most in the platoon.

  He tried to circle, but the Ixtali cut him off on one side and the Pricolici stopped him on the other. He rushed between them, then dove to his right in the hopes of disabling Slikara. She countered his move and fought him to a standstill.

  He knew that his back was exposed, but he was too slow disengaging. Christina hammered a fist into the top of his head. He went down like a stunned bistok. Kim and Auburn moved in, picked him up, and carried him from the ring, depositing him to the side once they made sure he was okay.

  “Neeexxxt,” Christina hissed, pointing at a recruit. She’d singled out each of those who had cast unfriendly glances at the Ixtali while they were doing pushups. Sometimes lessons needed to involve pain.

  The human stepped into the ring, angling to the side as he faced his two opponents. He kept one hand over his ghoulies, putting himself at a severe disadvantage. Christina stepped behind Slikara and pushed her forward. She didn’t wait. She charged, slapped his one hand away and donkey-kicked him with two of her legs. She would have followed up with a righteous pummeling if he hadn’t flown from the ring.

  He groaned in agony and started coughing. Blood splattered from his mouth.

  Auburn stepped in, picked him up, and carried him away. “Going to sickbay,” he told them over his shoulder.

  “Neeexxxt,” Christina said again. The recruits cringed, afraid for whoever she would choose. Another human. He whimpered as he approached the ring. When his first foot entered the ring, she grabbed him by the head and slammed him face-first into the mat. She kicked him out of the ring.

  “Neeexxxt.” She didn’t point at anyone.

  K’Thrall staggered back into the ring. “I’ll take the beating for the platoon. Come on!” he told them as he put his fists up and started to dodge and weave. Christina looked at Kimber.

  “Stop!” she ordered. Kim entered the ring, turning in a circle as she looked over the recruits. “What lesson do you think we’re trying to teach?”

  “That a Pricolici will smash your face in if you cross her?” the recruit said through the blood dripping from his nose.

  “Alone, we perish,” K’Thrall said.

  “One team, one fight. We fight to win, not each other. Every battle the Bad Company has ever fought has been against vastly superior numbers. Sometimes we do have to fight alone. How do you do that? How can one person fight twenty-five? Ferociously, with the desire to live. We fight to win. Every. Single. Mission.”

  The recruits watched her closely as she continued to turn within the circle. Christina had already collected her shipsuit and was getting dressed.

  “We need to practice fighting when we’re outnumbered. Get your clothes on and prepare for two-on-one combat training.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The War Axe

  Terry stood in the CIC, watching the screens that captured the combat support drone in action. From numerous angles, Terry was able to run footage back and forth.

  Ankh wasn’t watching the video. He preferred the raw data collected by sensors attached to the prototype. Immersed within the holo screens, the code scrolled around him. He tapped and engaged.

  Terry Henry replayed the video. In his mind, he could see a fleet of the drones engaging an unwitting enemy, leveling a huge swath of the battlefield. Maybe they’ll decide it’s not worth the fight.

  He thought of Home World and the upcoming battle. Human slaves. Ten would put them between the Bad Company and the AI, wherever his corrupted programming resided. Terry wasn’t keen on killing innocents, even if they were willing combatants.

  “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” Terry quoted. “Do they have any protection from airborne threats, like fighters or air-to-air drones, maybe surface-to-air missiles?”

  Ankh continued what he was doing.

  “Smedley, make sure to get my question to Ankh. A unit with SAMs could knock these down in short order. It seems like a single P-51 from World War Two would take these out.”

  “The P-51 was an incredible aircraft,” Smedley replied.

  “You got that right, Smedley. The good old days of combat, pitting skill and the latest technology against the aggressor!” Terry leaned back in his seat and remembered his Marine Corps days. Combat was violent and the damage done by one human being to another was terrible. “Maybe none of those days were good. To defeat evil, the good guys have to bring a level of violence greater than their enemy.”

  “The CSDs do not have air defenses. Ankh and I are designing deployable jammer dispensers and air-to-air missiles for the system. That should be done in a few minutes. We will be able to modify the prototype when it is returned to the ship.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes. When someone like Ankh and I can make petaflops of calculations, it does not take any time to change a design.”

  “What the hell is a petaflop?”

  “A quadrillion trillion floating decimal point calculations per second.”

  “A shitload. You can make a shitload of calculations.”

  “I assure you, we can do far more than a mere shitload of calculations,” Smedley replied defensively.

  “Uber-shitload? Hyper-shitload? Exa-shitload?”

  “Exaflops are fewer than petaflops, by orders of magnitude.”

  “Do you understand that I really don’t care about petaflops?”

  “But you asked,” Smedley replied, confusion in his voice.

  “I’m sure that I won’t ask again.” Terry continued to watch the videos. “Will you be able to modify the platform so the railgun can fire while the drone is hovering?”

  “We cannot. The drone will have to maintain a constant twenty-seven kilometers per hour to maintain a firing rate of one hundred projectiles per second.”

  “Which means we have to expend more and more energy to maintain forward momentum with each increase in firing rate.”

  “On a logarithmic scale of output. Yes.”

  “But the Etheric power supply can handle that while firing the weapons?”

  “Easily.”

  “And there we are. TH’s new favorite toy!” Terry said.

  The footage cut out as the drone reattached itself to the shuttle pod.

  Terry opened his mouth to say something, but Ankh was fully ensconced within his digital cocoon. “Smedley, tell Ankh great job in the development and testing. I look forward to using this to secure the peace while minimizing the risk to our people.”

  Ramses’ Chariot, Earth

  The frigate flew through the ionosphere as it headed into space. The group wedged onto the bridge, mesmerized by the receding images of Earth.

  “Last chance to get off,” Ted said. “Ha! Just kidding. We’re not going back. Charging the gate
engine. Prepare to gate.”

  Kailin turned to Ted. “No second chances, huh?”

  “Isn’t that what happened when we came back to Earth?” Joseph suggested.

  “I get the feeling you won’t be back again.”

  Joseph didn’t answer.

  “We might. Thanks to Ted, the universe is a much smaller place.” Cory clutched an IICS to her chest. The size of a briefcase, it was a direct link to her children. She held it like she had hugged Sylvia when they said their good-byes.

  And then they walked three kilometers to a field where the Chariot could land. Bundin wondered why they didn’t land there to begin with, which would have forestalled his ill-fated jump from the spaceship. He took pride that he’d done it. He never shared with the others that as a cave-dwelling species, he had an innate fear of open spaces and great heights.

  He had blustered, but was happy to remain on the ship, out of the sunlight.

  In front of the ship, a gate formed and the Chariot rocketed through. In a flash, they were somewhere else.

  The alien fleet appeared around them.

  “What the hell, Ted?” Joseph threw his hands up and flinched, expecting incoming fire to destroy Ramses’ Chariot. The ship rolled sideways away from the gate’s entry point into that system. It casually maneuvered toward the largest of the alien vessels.

  “See?” Ted said, bobbing his head.

  “See what?” Cory asked.

  “Exactly.” Ted got up from the captain’s chair, instantly annoyed at the bodies that prevented him from leaving the bridge.

  “Where are you going?” Joseph said, holding his hand out to stop Ted from leaving.

  “To get a sandwich.”

  “We’re back in the middle of the alien fleet, the same one that tried to kill us, and you’re going to get a sandwich?”

  “Yes. New gate protocol. We arrive cloaked. They saw a flash but don’t know we’re here. I’m going to get a sandwich now. When I’m finished eating, the gate engines will be charged and we’ll jump the rest of the way to Keeg Station.”

 

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