Gateway To The Universe: In Bad Company

by Craig Martelle

  Terry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Nanocytes. They exist because of programming. You can’t download it and then copy it a billion times?”

  Nathan laughed. “No. Your nanocytes have adopted their own language. The chip and other things done on the War Axe are with nanocytes that are working in conjunction with yours. We aren’t able to enhance you further as your nanos would fight off the new ones. I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

  Terry and Char shrugged. “You made me wait two years before we created the super nanos, you big bully,” Char quipped.

  “You were with this fabulous creature for two years before, well, before that?” Nathan was incredulous.

  Char nodded.

  “She was a fucking Werewolf! I didn’t know what to expect,” Terry replied defensively.

  “I’m still a Werewolf,” Char said coldly as she twirled her silver streak of hair. Cory brushed her hair back, exposing her Werewolf ears.

  “Dammit, Nathan!” Terry exclaimed. “I’m here five minutes and you’ve put me on couch city. You can buy me a beer. Don’t tell me there’s no beer in this galaxy.”

  “There is beer. That is a true universal. Every culture has figured out how to take a grain and brew a fermented drink from it. Every culture also has its own form of Swedish meatballs, but that’s something completely different. Yes, I’ll buy you a beer, TH.”

  “We’re square then. Down to business, Nathan. What do you need from us? What do you want from me?”

  “I’ve formed the Bad Company, a commercial enterprise that trades goods throughout the Federation, although we mostly operate along the frontier. The units, and this information is not to leave this room, through the access they have by virtue of buying and selling, collects intelligence for me on behalf of the Federation.

  “We have units scattered across a thousand light years. This is a vast expanse of space that we’re dealing with. Besides the manufacture and trade operations that we run, I need a Direct Action Branch, which you’ve already been briefed on. There are an infinite number of jobs out there where one belligerent faces off against another. It upsets the balance in entire regions. They have money and we’re willing to take it to help them settle their lovers’ spats. There are far more conflicts than we can address, so we can pick and choose. I need you to help me evaluate the potential missions and then when we pick one, execute with the most and least amount of violence necessary to accomplish the objective.”

  “Mercenaries,” Terry said, not judging, but he wanted it in the open.

  “Absolutely. We don’t hide that or the fact that we will choose only missions that we can live with. We have a stack of proposals that I’d like you to review by morning. Make your recommendations and then we’ll pick one together. You’ll execute it, and I’ll grow richer.”

  “It’s hard to say ‘no’ to that!” Terry joked and then turned serious. “What’s our logistics support?”

  “The War Axe is yours. Load it up with what you need before you leave Onyx Station. That’s it for this time, but I’m going to move you closer to the frontier. Your permanent base for operations will be in the Dren Cluster, but you’ll always have a link to my office, wherever I am hanging my hat.”

  “So we’ll be fighting planet-side?” Terry wondered.

  “Mostly. Remember, you get to pick the mission. Evaluate them carefully, because if you go, it’s your ass on the line.”

  “I understand, Nathan.” Terry turned to the others and waved one arm expansively. “We understand. I have one of these, a gift from Michael Nacht.” Terry tapped the Jean Dukes Special on his hip. “What would it take to get one of these for each of my people?”

  “You have only to ask. I can get the pipeline started, but it will take a while. These are very unique weapons, so you may not have them for the first five or ten missions.”

  “Damn!” Terry was taken aback. Having been flung into what he thought of as the distant future, he had a hard time believing there was anything that would take a long time. The Pod Doc reprogrammed people in ten minutes! “That’ll have to work. What’s the chain of command look like?”

  “You answer directly to me,” Nathan replied.

  “General Reynolds?” Terry asked.

  “He is associated with official Federation business. We need to limit our contact with him when we’re doing work off the books, so to speak. The Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch is a private conflict resolution enterprise.”

  “That sounds familiar, but it tells me that we’re on the same page, Nathan.”

  Nathan slapped his hand on the table. “So let it be written, so let it be done! I owe you a beer. If you would excuse us, Terry and I have places to go and people to see.”

  Terry leaned down to kiss Char, but she put her hand out. “Fucking Werewolf? Couch city is too good for you.” She moistened her lips lightly using the tip of her tongue.

  “Maybe we could find our quarters and then freshen up first?” Terry suggested as Char played with him.

  “You have plenty of time later for that. I have an ulterior motive, TH. I want to check on my daughter. Our AI suggests that she has found the seediest bar in all of Onyx Station. We need to go help before all the furniture is broken and the floor awash with blood.”

  “That bad?”

  “Do you think your Vampires are going to be a good influence?” Nathan asked pointedly.

  “I was hoping Christina would be a good influence on them.”

  “We better hurry,” Nathan said.

  Terry could not have agreed more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Valerie and Robin sat with their backs to the wall, leering at the men in the crowded bar. Christina watched them closely. There was no smoking allowed on the station, but smoke tendrils drifted through the air.

  “You aren’t going to take one of those back to your room,” she said, making a face.

  Valerie chuckled and gave a look to Robin that seemed to hint at an inside joke. “No, as fun as that may be.”

  A trio of young adventurers sauntered up to the table, carrying six bottles of beer.

  “Mind if we join you?” the smoothest of the bunch asked.

  “Sure,” Valerie said with a mock slur as if she was drunk.

  The men paired off, each selecting a target for their affection. They put the extra beer in front of the women.

  “Ohhhhh… I’m sorry, but I don’t drink beer,” Valerie said as she took a drink from the beer she’d been nursing. It was warm and tasted like piss water. “I’m a single malt whiskey kind of girl.”

  She’d never had it, but had heard Terry talking about it as well as the beer. She looked at the remains of her first beer, wholly unimpressed. Terry’s stock went down in her eyes.

  One of the men pointed to the beer in her hand.

  “Single malt,” she said slowly, enunciating clearly. The man’s friends waved him away. He left in a huff, went to the bar, and frantically tried to get the bartender’s attention. They watched him flail.

  “We’re usually smoother than this, but we’ve been out for a long time with no feminine company. When we saw you, we had to stop by.”

  “Oh really?” Robin droned.

  “No shit! Fucking marauders, fighters, space junk, and we’re lucky to be alive, but when you have a great team, you can get through anything.”

  “You fucked marauders but they fought you with their junk?” Valerie asked.

  “No! Why would you say that?”

  “I’m just saying what you said,” Valerie replied.

  “That’s not what I said,” the man answered.

  “Hmm, maybe I need an illustration? I’ve always been more of a picture book kind of gal.”

  The man stopped his next retort as their friend placed six single malt shots on the table. Valerie and Robin took one without waiting, toasted, and drank them in a single swig.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Valerie raised Terry’s stock
back to where it had been before.

  She reached for another shot glass. The man next to her leaned in and smiled at Robin, and suddenly had his hands reaching, groping. While Robin stared in confusion, apparently shocked this asshole would even try something, Valerie acted on instinct. At the speed of thought, she lashed out, breaking his nose and driving his head into the wall behind the booth.

  The other men froze. Valerie and Robin shared an oops look, then each took another shot and downed it. Christina took one, not to be outdone, and threw it back.

  She coughed once before smiling. “Smooth,” she rasped.

  The men looked at their comrade, out cold with his head embedded in the wall.

  “Is there a problem, ladies?” Nathan Lowell asked as he approached the table.

  “Another Tuesday night, Nathan,” Valerie replied with a wink. “Why, something seem off?”

  Nathan was not amused. Terry walked up behind Nathan and squeezed around him to take his place.

  Christina picked up the last shot and downed it.

  One of the two men that Nathan was studiously ignoring drained his beer and stood up. He looked at his friend with his head in the wall and then to Nathan.

  “Why don’t you bugger off, you old bastard. These women are ours.” The man tried to stifle a sloppy belch, but it escaped anyway, leaving beer dribbling down his chin. He wiped it off using the back of his sleeve. He jutted his chin out.

  Nathan’s eyes flashed yellow as he tried to control his anger. He wouldn’t let Christina start a bar-clearing brawl. “Come,” he said in low and loud voice, staring down his daughter. Terry only nodded to the two Vampires.

  “Fine,” Valerie said, taking one of the fresh bottles of beer the men had brought over. Robin took another. Terry looked at the third. He reached down and grabbed it, trying not to laugh. He took a drink and smiled beatifically.

  “That is fucked up, really fucked up. This is swill!”

  “This is beer that I didn’t have to make myself, which means it’s a-okay in my book.”

  When Terry turned to follow Nathan and Christina out, the bartender was standing in the way.

  “Who’s going to pay for that?” he demanded, pointing at the man with his head embedded in the wall and blood running from his nose.

  “You know you’re not supposed to serve drunk people or allow smoking. One more word and I’ll have you shut down. It would be best if you returned to your bar and forgot that we were ever here.” The bartender started to reach out, but stopped as Nathan’s eyes glowed yellow and he snarled, showing a pair of fangs.

  “Just don’t come back any time soon,” the bartender said as he retreated behind the bar. Terry fought the urge to pummel the scumbag, but he was trying to set a good example for the Vampires. So he shrugged and followed Nathan out.

  ***

  “I just love me some Onyx Station,” Felicity drawled to Aaron and Yanmei as the three of them strolled along a decorated promenade lined with shops.

  Felicity was put out that she didn’t have any money to spend, but was promised they’d get their cards loaded with Federation credits within the next day or so.

  “When are we leaving?” Felicity asked.

  “As soon as Nathan’s tech team finishes what they’re doing with the Grandeur, we’ll be leaving, heading for the Dren Cluster, wherever the hell that is,” Aaron mumbled.

  “When will his team be finished?” Felicity asked, starting to get worried.

  Yanmei knew what she was getting at. “Probably the same time as you get your credits. All dressed up and nowhere to go.”

  “I will always have somewhere to go,” Felicity promised.

  “Is Ted going to leave the ship?” Aaron asked.

  “I surely hope so.” Felicity looked away, closed her eyes, and slowly shook her head. “I like going, but I don’t like going alone.”

  Yanmei gave Felicity a hug. She didn’t know what else to say. They knew that Ted would disappear into the new technology, never to reemerge. The Federation, despite the best efforts of those in charge, would exploit Ted’s engagement.

  Even though no one said it aloud, the Weretigers knew it. Terry and Char knew it. And most importantly, Felicity knew it.

  ***

  Ted was in heaven. The technical team had set up an interface on the bridge and it was systematically accessing the computers and data from the Singlaxian Grandeur. Ted remained within a holo bubble, gyrating in a syncopated dance as his hands flicked in and out through the interface.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” one technician said to another. The older men were trusted insiders for the intelligence branch of the Bad Company. They’d followed Nathan Lowell on his journey through the universe. Always in the background, always there when needed doing what had to be done.

  Freeing Nathan to do what he had to do.

  In the end, digging out the intelligence he wanted. No matter how much they gleaned, he wanted more.

  Answers begged more questions. Always.

  “He’s going to save us a lot of time,” the second technician said.

  “I’ll ask if he wants to join the team, but Nathan might have different ideas.”

  “Show him,” the second man suggested.

  The first technician produced a manual comm device that broadcast a secure signal. Nathan had the second device. There were no others. It was based on a million-bit encryption and had zero storage. Anything broadcast was gone the instant it was funneled through the device.

  The first technician pressed the contact button. Nathan answered instantly.

  ***

  Nathan, Terry, Christina, Valerie, and Robin stopped by the promenade, the name given to the deck with the shops.

  “You youngsters go on. Let us two old men go someplace quiet to sit down,” Nathan said with a smirk. Christina chuckled, waved, and headed toward the biggest crowd. Valerie and Robin followed Christina and soon disappeared.

  Nathan led Terry to a lift that took them back to Nathan’s private office. Once there, Nathan locked them in.

  “You didn’t ask a lot of questions, TH, but I’m sure you have them.”

  Terry rubbed his chin. “The Bad Company is already established as a shell. All I have to do is start evaluating proposals and pick one. You explained my logistics and administrative support, and it sounds good, by the way. I don’t want to hassle with invoicing, but getting paid is important to make sure the Direct Action Branch is self-sustaining. I expect that you cannot funnel any more funds from the Federation into Bad Company activities. I’m sure the War Axe cost a pretty penny. I will do my best to pay back that cost.”

  Nathan nodded. “I’m sure you will. As long as you earn a one hundred percent success rate, we will never lack for quality clients. The right gig will pay for the War Axe all by itself.”

  “No shit?” Terry smiled and kicked back. Nathan got up from his desk and walked to a refrigerator that looked out of place in his plush office. He reached in and pulled out two bottles. He tore the caps off and handed the brown bottle to Terry. He kept the Pepsi for himself.

  “Here’s to a successful business venture.” Nathan clinked Terry’s bottle.

  Terry sniffed the strong, dark beer and gingerly tasted it. His eyes rolled back in his head. “I accept that I have to become a businessman, but as long as this keeps flowing, I will do anything for you, Nathan. Plus, I get to shoot bad guys. That’s my second favorite pastime.”

  Nathan didn’t try to guess what was number one on Terry’s list.

  Something buzzed.

  Nathan pulled a device from his pocket. He activated it, nodded, and placed the device in the middle of his desk. It projected a holographic image.

  “Tell us what we’re looking at, Jason,” he told the box.

  A disembodied voice responded. “It’s Ted, tearing through the raider ship’s computer systems. He’s pulling the information and sorting it into some kind of order. I’ll have to study his system more, but
I’m sure it makes sense to him. We’ve been in this business a long time and never seen anything like it. We thought you should see it for yourself.”

  Terry wasn’t surprised. Ted was where he belonged.

  “Make sure he gets something to eat. He’ll be angry when you unplug him, but he forgets to eat or drink for days if you let him go,” Terry told the box.

  The two technicians talked among themselves briefly. “We haven’t been at it for very long, and he’ll be done well before he misses a meal, but point taken. In case it runs long, we’ll make sure he eats something and gets something to drink.”

  “Can we bring him on board the team?” the second technician asked.

  “I think he’ll find a new home in our research and development group,” Nathan replied.

  “R2D2,” the first technician replied. “He’ll have more fun with us, though, Nathan.”

  “I’m sure that you’ll make every effort, but I suspect his idea of fun is doing exactly what you see him doing right now.”

  “True that, boss,” the technician replied before cutting the feed.

  “I hope you don’t mind, TH,” Nathan said, sounding apologetic. “I believe a person’s family comes before all other things and I see that you look at Ted and the rest of them as your family. I’m asking you to split up your family, but understand that I am asking. If you say ‘no,’ then it’s no.”

  “That wouldn’t be fair to Ted. I’ve seen him like this a couple times before, around his nuclear reactor, the gravitic engines, and engineering challenges like those. He is where he belongs, doing what he loves. I can’t take that away from him. His wife will be devastated, unless there’s a great social life on this R2D2.”

  “Not so much,” Nathan apologized.

  “Then we’ll split up the family. We will lose Ted if he learns of the offer and finds out that I said ‘no.’ I can’t do that to him. Felicity will be the one we need to manage, but if she can shop, then we might be okay. Do you need a liaison here? I think she’ll prefer staying on Onyx Station, for now anyway, but I don’t want to speak for her. Is the Dren Cluster okay?”