Space is a dangerous place, even for the wary, especially for the unprepared. The aliens have no idea.
Here comes the Bad Company.
Colonel Terry Henry Walton takes his warriors into battle, for a price, in this first installment of The Bad Company. He believes in the moral high ground and is happy getting paid for his role in securing it.
Set in the Kurtherian Gambit Universe, Terry, Char, and their people—humans, Werewolves, Weretigers, and Vampires—form the core of the Bad Company's Direct Action Branch, a private conflict solution enterprise.
Join them as they fight their way across Tissikinnon Four where none of the warring parties were what they expected.
"TH's running commentary while everything is total chaos is hilarious. The action continued non-stop for the entire book. TH and company deliver a whole bunch of tough love and whoop ass!"– Amazon Review
"The combination of military sci-fi and fantasy just seems to strike a chord in me, likely because I started out with comic books in the 60's and worked my way through just about every science fiction and fantasy genre ever since. The characters are enjoyable, the mayhem is prolific and there's humor layered throughout..."– Amazon Review
"There is also the need to innovate, adapt and overcome as obstacles are placed before our merry band of brothers in a fight for their lives. With wry humor, salty language, human emotions and determination please read this book, you'll find that it's a likable read."– Amazon Review
An explosion sounded and plasma fire flashed before his eyes.
Hidden in a remote corner of the Pan Galaxy, Nathan Lowell sat in his private office looking at the video communication screen. The President of the Bad Company frowned.
His Direct Action Branch was engaged and not in a good way. Nathan slowly shook his head as he watched.
Thirty-seven star systems away, General Lance Reynolds saw the same images displayed on his monitor. He chewed vigorously on his cigar. The report wasn't what he had expected.
Colonel Terry Henry Walton, the man in the image, looked back and forth between the screen and something to his left. Ominous sounds accompanied the image.
"This first mission wasn't what we contracted for, Nathan," Terry yelled at the portable console that sat with a sideways tilt. He stared at a point off-screen, shook his head, and continued. "My first stop when I get off this rock is that dandy president's office where I'll wring his pencil-neck to get our thirty percent bonus and seventy percent kicker. And then I'm leveling his fucking palace!"
"Can you settle this with what you have?" Lance asked.
"Yes, sir," Terry replied.
"I already told you once, call me Lance."
"No can do, General. Can't have you thinking I've grown soft just because I've been a pseudo-civilian for over a hundred and fifty years. Hang on." Terry's smile evaporated as he looked off-screen, his lip curling involuntarily. "SHOOT HIM!" he shouted.
The crack of hand-held railguns answered. Terry stabbed his finger at something neither Nathan nor Lance could see.
"Not that one, the other one," Terry corrected. More cracks from the hypervelocity weapons. Terry nodded and flipped the bird. "Fuck you, buddy, and your stupid-looking stalk-head!"
Terry turned back to the screen. "Where were we?"
"Something about you intending to level our client's palace," Nathan said coldly.
"After we're paid, that is. Hang on." Terry looked off-screen again, flinched with surprise, and started yelling, "Why won't you die? WOULD SOMEONE KILL THAT THING!"