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EPISODE 6

Watch Your Back

General Whittaker stood and Hampton took his place behind him.

“Okay, men. We’re going to have to activate some reservists and bring on a few short-term contractors, but we will deliver a full regiment on schedule, even with those of you with implants being disqualified. At approximately this time tomorrow, you will be transported into orbit to rendezvous with the KCS Ridgeback, a combat-ready starcruiser that we have rented from the Kantillonese Navy for the delivery just in case hostiles attempt to interfere with our transit. We've used her before, she’s a good ship, with a veteran crew. The Ridgeback will remain in orbit for another 24-hour period until the entire regiment is on board. It will then jump to Feymanus, then Faraday, then a quick hop to Ulixis. You should be there in 72 hours from now. I recommend you spend your time jacked in and learning what you can about the locals and the terrain, as well as re-familiarizing yourself with projectile weapons and dumb armor.

“Those of you with tech certs need to make sure you’re up on your external communications and drones. Get going on the simulations now, and also make sure you rest up. Just because the general here thinks this will be a cakewalk, remember he’s a sales guy first. He’s going to give you the good news. Don’t get cocky. Even though these guys are medieval, remember that a bullet can kill a man just as dead as a plasma bolt. That is all. Go get ready, men. And good luck.”

After the generals left the stage, we all stood up and I made my way over to catch Squid but he had already walked out. Jock and Park caught me before I hit the aisle.

“Ready for a vacation, Tommy?” Jock grinned.

“Sure, you got some tickets to Rhysalan? I think I’ll hit a few casinos and pick up a chick with tentacles.”

“No, this mission, jackass,” Jock said. “It’s going to be cake.”

Park nodded. “Easy one, most def.”

“Yeah, no worries here. I’m gonna miss my targeting and thermals, though. Not to mention my rifle.”

“Sure,” Jock said, “but it’s almost like getting back to nature. Wild and free. Man vs. man, just primitive weapons, blue sky above, no pulse weapons or disrupters–”

“I like disrupters,” I said. “No mess.”

“Not when they’re aimed at you,” Park pointed out.

“No, that’s true.” Then I noticed Private Ward, sitting lost in thought. Jock caught my glance. “Yeah, he’s philosophizing. Are you philosophizing, Ward?” he said louder, slapping the back of his head.

Ward frowned and turned. “No. I’m thinking.”

“About those poor innocent lambs we knocked off?” Jock needled.

“No,” said Ward. “I’m just wondering what’s going on with Ulixis. It’s an agricultural planet.

“Land grab, kid,” I said to him. “One guy wants something the other guy has, so we take it for him.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, “but I served five years in the orbital patrol here on Kantillon before signing on with WDI. Nothing is ever quite that simple. Sure, the way it’s sold, one guy wants us to fight another. Does the news ever get that sort of thing right? No. So who knows what’s really going on? A fast turnaround for a whole regiment? Seems to lack a certain level of planning for a contract that size. Or there’s something shady behind it and the money at stake has to be ridiculous. What kind of backwater monarch could pull this off just to take a peninsula?”

“Dunno,” I said. “Mining rights, probably. Maybe it’s made of solid gold or something.”

I slapped him on the shoulder and walked out.


I caught up with Squid later. As I assumed, he was out on the barracks balcony, smoking a cigar. He loved his cigars, but he had to go without whenever we were in space. So naturally, every time we got back to base or were out dirtside, he’d fire up a stogie.

“Sergeant,” I greeted him.

“Hey Tommy. Aren’t you supposed to be learning how to use a slingshot or something?”

“Already did enough of that for one day,” I said. I’d run through a hundred rounds and decided I was already pretty damn good with the Katzers they were issuing us. There was nothing to them. They were projectile rifles with a 475 mm barrel that fired a 5.5x50 cartridge to an effective range of 450 meters. No assisted targeting, no digitals, they were little more than a slingshot that went bang and threw a very small stone. “So, you not coming?”

Squid spit. “Nope.”

“Dammit, Sergeant—the Bastards need you!”

Squid took a deep puff and blew a smoke ring. Then he shook his head. “Not up to me, Tommy. You heard the man. And Jock will do fine as squad leader. He knows his head from his ass. I recommended him myself.”

I shrugged. “So it’s true what they say. You do have a robo-penis.”

He laughed dryly. “Nah, but I’m DQ’d on four counts.”

“Four?” I repeated, surprised.

“Four.” He took his finger and tapped it directly on his open left eye with a highly unnatural clicking sound. “That, for one. Could have it taken out for the mission, of course, but that’s not the problem.”

He pulled up his shirt to reveal three faint white lines converging over his bellybutton. “Got that done on the field, ergo the scars.”

“Liver?” I ventured. He nodded, then took another deep draw on his cigar, then exhaled slowly, blowing another smoke ring in the air. Here in the midst of flexicrete and transparent aluminum buildings, the wind was blocked, allowing the “O” to hang in the air and disintegrate slowly.

“And both of these,” he said at long last, thumping his chest. “Burned out in a raid. Bucket filter failed and I got a good lungful of some kind of burning neo-foam. Burned like acid. They had to put me in a gelpack that time. It was close, but I made it. So, they hooked me up with a pair of artificials. Not bad, really. Supposed to deliver 25 percent more oxygen than the originals. Best part is that I don’t have to worry about lung cancer no more.”

“But you’re out of the game now,” I said.

“Yeah, for this one, anyhow,” he said. “Look, Tommy, you just listen to Jock, don’t get yourself killed and we’ll be back raiding freighters and murdering civilians for profit in no time.” He pulled a bottle from his jacket and took a swig. I thought he was going to offer it to me, but instead, he slapped me on the shoulder. “Get out of here, kid.”

I nodded and turned to leave, but as I opened the door to go back inside, he spoke again.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?” I said, turning back to face him.

“Watch your back. These big contracts, when they go south, they tend to go south in a big way.”

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Wardogs Inc. series cover
Watch Your Back episode cover
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Wardogs Inc.

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