Deathtrap

  Expeditionary Force Mavericks

  Book 1- DEATHTRAP

  By Craig Alanson

  Text copyright © 2019 Craig Alanson

  All Rights Reserved

  Contact the author

  craigalanson@gmail.com

  Cover Design By:

  Pixel Perfect Publishing

  melinda@pixelperfectpublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Jesse!” Shauna called out from the open window of a truck as it skidded to a stop, slapping the door with the flat of her hand for emphasis. “Look who I found!”

  Jesse had not been having the best day, having been working all morning on a present the Ruhar had given to the Mavericks, supposedly in gratitude for the humans having saved a training ship of cadets, among other things. The gift was a cool-looking vehicle that Dave instantly named the Batmobile. At first Jesse, Dave and especially Shauna had been over the top excited to have a new toy. The Batmobile had four seats, with wheels that could automatically form into treads, its own stealth field and electric motors so quiet the vehicle could sneak up on anything. It had an open frame, on which could be hung lightweight armor panels. The coolest part of the toy was a maser cannon and rocket launcher mounted on top of the roll bar, with the weapons controlled by the helmet visors of the occupants.

  The three sergeants had been thrilled to have an awesome new toy, a toy no one else on Paradise had as they had never seen one before.

  That thrill wore off quickly as the damned thing kept breaking down and spare parts were nearly impossible to find. After racing across fields, along narrow paths in the woods and splashing through streams, the fun had worn off as components wore out or simply glitched and failed. When Jesse went to the airbase depot and inquired about getting the Batmobile worked on, the hamster mechanics had avoided his eyes and mumbled excuses, shuffling their feet nervously. No, they were not acting nervous, they were acting guilty. Suspicious, Jesse had investigated and discovered the vehicle was a prototype built several years ago by a Ruhar company that hoped to sell it to their military. The project had been a failure and most of the prototypes had been junked, but the one given to the Mavericks had sat forgotten under a tarp in the back of a warehouse, until a senior officer ordered the supply command to find an appropriate gift for the heroic Mavericks. Some supply clerk, seeing an opportunity to play a joke on the primitive humans and clear junk out of his warehouse, suggested the Batmobile that had acquired a laughable reputation as a worthless piece of shit.

  Thus, Jesse was in a bad mood when his unofficial girlfriend rolled up all cheery in a truck that was working just fine. “Ah!” His hand slipped off the wrench handle and he bashed his knuckles against a bracket under the suspension. “Son of a-” he flung the wrench to the ground. “Eff this effing piece of shit! Damn it! I bashed my knuckles. I hate this effing cocksucker!” He aimed a kick at the stuck wheel, missed and caught the toe of his boot on the side rail, making him stagger backward and windmill his arms to keep his balance.

  Shauna opened the door and swung out. “Effing? You actually said ‘effing’ instead of what I know you meant to say?”

  Jesse sucked on his sore knuckles and mumbled “I’s tryin’ to be polite in the presence of a lady.”

  Shauna stuck hands on her hips and cocked her head at her unofficial boyfriend who might be more than a boyfriend, if he ever worked up the nerve to ask her an important question. “Jesse, when I’m wearing this getup,” she looked down at her standard-issue UNEF coveralls, that were worn, patched many times and blotched with stains that nearly hid the original olive drab color. “You can think of me as a fellow soldier first, and a lady when I change into something presentable. Besides, you didn’t want to say ‘fuck’ in front of me, but ‘cocksucker’ is Ok?” She laughed.

  “That is a good question, Sergeant Colter,” said a familiar voice from the other side of the truck cab, and the fuzzy fur of Nert Dandurf’s head popped up over the hood.

  “Nerty!” Jesse forgot his sore knuckles and bad mood, to stride over to the alien cadet and embrace him in a bear hug. “How have you been? The vaccine didn’t make you sick?”

  The vaccine provided by the Maxolhx or Bosphuraq or whoever, no one was certain, proved to be universally effective against the bioweapon the Kristang had developed on Camp Alpha. The vaccine also gave mild flu-like symptoms to more than seventeen percent of Ruhar. Now that infected humans had apparently been intercepted before reaching the surface of Paradise, the growing civilian population had become apathetic about getting vaccinated. For military cadets like Nert, the vaccine was mandatory. “No,” Nert replied happily. “I am fine, no problem,” he flashed a goofy grin with two enthusiastic thumbs up. “A few people in my training group became sick from the vaccine, but,” he winked, “the docs fixed them up with eight hundred milligrams of Motrin and a glass of water.”

  “Ha!” Shauna laughed. “Yeah, that’s the US Army’s cure for everything.”

  “I am glad to hear you came through Ok,” Jesse bent down to pick up the wrench he had thrown away in frustration.

  “I am well,” Nert agreed. “Sergeant Colter, I am curious-”

  “Oh, hey, the gang’s all here,” Jesse declared as another truck pulled up next to the Batmobile and the remainder of the Mavericks got out. “Morning, Colonel,” he addressed Lieutenant Colonel Perkins. “That’s some mighty shiny new jewelry you got there.”

  Perkins self-consciously touched the ‘Command in Space’ pin that UNEF had awarded to her, because she had unofficially served as captain of a disabled Ruhar training cruiser. As the US military did not have a pin for that honor, it was patterned after the Navy’s Command at Sea pin, with a rocket streaking across the five-pointed star. She felt self-conscious about wearing the medal but UNEF insisted it was important to remind the Ruhar of the usefulness, bravery and determination of the Mavericks. “Oh, this thing,” she wiped a smudge off one corner of the pin. “UNEF charged me the equivalent of a hundred fifty bucks for it.”

  Nert’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “You have to pay for medals that are awarded to you?”

  “Not just medals. Ribbons too,” Perkins explained. She shrugged. “It seems extra silly doing it that way out here, I know UNEF just had a 3D printer crank it out for me. But Army regs don’t change, and UNEF probably thinks the regs remind us of our ties to home.”

  “You know what reminds me of home?” Dave asked. “The fact that I can’t get a decent slice of pizza on this whole planet. That reminds me that I’m not at home.”

  “There is that bar in southern Lemuria,” Irene suggested.

  Dave frowned. “Ma’am, if that’s what you call good pizza, I need to take you to Milwaukee if we ever get home. Hey, ‘Pone, you haven’t gotten that wheel off the Batmobile yet?”

  “Hey!” Jesse felt he n
eeded to defend his honor. “I would have gotten it loose, problem is the grips on this wrench are worn out. This little cocksucker,” he glared at the wrench and shook it angrily, “kept slipping.”

  “That is my question,” Nert perked up, standing with his mouth gaping open. “I almost forgot.”

  Shauna pulled a rag from a pocket and handed it to Jesse. “What’s your question, Nerty?”

  “Sergeant Colter, you say the word ‘cocksucker’ as a curse word.”

  Jesse’s radar for trouble went on high alert and he shot a guilty look at Perkins. “Uh, yeah, I was just mad at this stupid thing, that’s all. Why, did you hear that word from another group of humans?” He added hopefully.

  Nert tilted his head and continued to look puzzled. “I have heard it before and I understand what it means,” Nert was suddenly aware that Perkins, Shauna and Irene were women, and his already pink skin blushed under the fine fur covering his face.

  Perkins’ arms folded across her chest. “Go on, cadet.”

  Nert very much wished he could drop the subject. At the insistence of Perkins, he had to continue. “What I do not understand is why you say the word ‘cocksucker’ like it is a bad thing. Do human men not enjoy getting their-”

  “Okaaaay!” Jesse shouted waving his arms. “We can,” he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Nert, we can talk about that later.”

  Shauna was not letting her fellow sergeant get away so easily. Placing hands on her hips, she tried to frown but broke into a broad grin. “That is a very good question, Nert. Jesse, I would like to know why you use that word for something that makes you angry. Because,” she winked, “I would hate to do anything that you don’t enjoy. So, if you don’t like that, I can-”

  “Oh, hell,” Jesse knew he was trapped.

  “I’d like to know too,” Irene glared at Derek Bonsu standing beside her, and that man shot Jesse a panicked look.

  “That is a good question,” Emily Perkins agreed while hiding her mouth with a hand to conceal how hard she was trying not to laugh. “Sergeant Colter, would you like to explain?”

  Jesse’s suntanned face turned white. “Ma’am, right now what I would like is for a Kristang ship to jump into orbit and hit me with a railgun,” he briefly glanced up in hope his wish would be fulfilled. “Nert, you gotta understand, there’s a lot of things people say that don’t mean nothin’,” his Arkansas accent getting thicker as he fumbled for words. “I heard someone else say it, and I picked it up. Believe me, I say a lot of really stupid shit that I don’t think about.”

  “Oh,” Nert still had a puzzled expression. “How do I know which things you say are-”

  Shauna took pity on Jesse. “Nerty, that is something you guys should talk about, by yourselves, is that all right?”

  Jesse’s heart soared with hope. “That’s right. Nert, Dave, y’all can help me with the Batmobile here.”

  Nert’s expression turned to a frown. “Why are you trying to fix this,” he looked at the sky while trying to think of the proper words. “This piece of shit?”

  “The Batmobile ain’t a piece of shit,” Jesse patted the vehicle’s fender defensively.

  “My mother is on the technology committee that approves research funding for the military,” Nert frowned. “I remember when her committee voted against buying this, thing, for the Spaceborne Cavalry. It was a scandal, because the Cavalry had already gone way over budget on development, and it didn’t work.” He stepped forward and ran a hand along the roll bar where the maser cannon was mounted. “I did not know any of these still existed.”

  “We got this one,” Jesse shook his sore hand. “The Batmobile is fine, it just needs a few tweaks here and there.”

  “Come one, ‘Pone,” Dave interjected. “Nert’s right, it is a POS. But it’s our POS, and we’re going to get it working again.”

  “I would like to work with you,” Nert crouched down to look at the wheel. “I think I remember the main problem was the targeting system for the maser cannon and rockets kept drawing too much processing power. If we disconnect the-”

  “Nert,” Perkins asked, “do you have time to help with the Batmobile?” She was skeptical that the time spent on the useless vehicle was worth the effort. But her team was determined to show the Ruhar they could get it working. And she had to admit, driving the unique vehicle was a hell of a lot of fun. “You don’t need to get back to your studies?”

  “No, Colonel. That is something my aunt wishes to speak with you about.”

  “Uh huh,” Perkins replied slowly, without enthusiasm. Nert’s aunt was the civilian leader of the entire planet, and any favor she requested was viewed as an order by UNEF HQ. “I am meeting with her and a couple UNEF generals in an hour. You care to give me a hint what she wants to talk about?”

  Nert grinned. “My aunt wants it to be a surprise.”

  “Great,” Perkins gritted her teeth. “I just love surprises.”

  Emily Perkins’ trouble radar set off alarms when she saw who was in the Burgermeister’s office, when an aide ushered her in. The administrator of the planet was there, also General Bezanson as the UNEF liaison to the Ruhar government. Those two, separately or together, were enough to cause headaches for Perkins and her team. The third occupant of the spacious room was a surprise and she did not know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Major General Jeff Ross had either volunteered for, or gotten stuck with depending who was talking, leading UNEF’s effort to set up an Alien Legion. The Legion had been Emily’s idea, a combined human and Verd-kris force to support the Ruhar, by doing the dirty jobs the Ruhar didn’t want to or could not do. Her motivation had been mostly to demonstrate to their hamster overlords that humans could be useful and loyal allies. She also was worried that the Expeditionary Force on Paradise was rapidly disintegrating as soldiers, Marines and airmen saw little role for humans in the military. Too many people were tempted out of military service by business opportunities in the civilian sector, to serve the needs of the rapidly-growing Ruhar population.

  Perkins nodded and made a slight bow to the Burgermeister. “Administrator,” she acknowledged the Ruhar woman, who had a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Colonel Perkins, come in please,” the Burgermeister waved. “You know Generals Bezanson and Ross?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, Sir,” she nodded to each of the general officers.

  “This morning’s discussion has been very productive,” Bezanson announced and she also had a twinkle in her eye.

  “How so, Ma’am?” Perkins sat down warily, perched on the edge of her seat as if she might have to dash from the office at any moment.

  “This morning,” Ross said, and he was not looking nearly so amused and happy as the others, “General Bezanson told me that we have an exciting opportunity.”

  Perkins did not speak her inner ‘Oh shit’ aloud, she didn’t need to. The momentary slump of her shoulders revealed how she felt about opportunities. The last ‘opportunity’ she had been offered was an excruciating afternoon of mandofun at a Ruhar meet-and-greet. Much of the mandatory fun she had been forced to engage in during her career, such as parties and cookouts, involved an unspoken understanding that participants could make excuses to leave after a reasonable time like half an hour. Not so the ‘request’ from the UNEF HQ public relations office, who wanted her team to attend a Ruhar party, where the Mavericks would officially be guests at the palatial home of a wealthy merchant who was influential in the planetary government. Unofficially, the Mavericks were curiosities, there to ensure the pompous merchant had a good attendance at his party.

  Perkins and her core team had to endure endless questions from apprehensive Ruhar civilians. Some questions had been insulting from ignorance, others had been insulting because of the speaker’s rudeness, open or concealed by politeness. She much preferred the open rudeness to the disguised variety. Unlike in Lemuria where most Ruhar had daily encounters with humans or at least saw humans regularly, few humans lived in or visited the pla
net’s capital city. Perkins had been proud that her team endured the party with stoic professionalism and without incident, and she had given them the next two days for leave to blow off steam.

  She had taken a day of leave also, spending the time at a remote lakeside cabin with Dave Czajka. That day of bliss had almost been worth attending the party.

  “An opportunity?” She did her best to keep her expression neutral. “That is exciting.”

  “Do not be so eager, Colonel,” the Burgermeister said with a musical laugh. “This is, as you humans say, a ‘shit job’.”

  “It is also,” Ross hurried to add, “an opportunity we are grateful for, Administrator. Perkins, the Ruhar federal government has agreed to a test of the Alien Legion concept. A star system called Tunanbey was recently captured by their Navy, and needs to be checked out and cleared of hazards.”

  Perkins groaned inwardly. “We will be a support force, Sir?”

  “No,” Bezanson shook her head. “This really is an opportunity, Colonel. Make sure you take this opportunity to shine and not fall on your faces. Your team, five other UNEF teams, and a dozen or so Verd-kris teams, will be flying dropships to clear Kristang facilities on moons and in the asteroid belt. The Mavericks will take the lead for UNEF, because your pilots are qualified in the model of dropship you’ll be using. Your base will be a Ruhar cruiser. The other UNEF teams will follow once their crews qualify.”

  Rather than concealing her disappointment, Perkins had to control her genuine excitement. A real assignment to do something useful! Not a training ship full of cadets, the Mavericks would be attached to a real warship, doing the same task as Ruhar crews. She knew from talking with hamsters aboard the training ship Ruh Tostella that clearing hazards from a recently captured star system was one of the least desired, and most dangerous, assignments. It was not surprising the Ruhar would offer such unwanted duty to test the Alien Legion concept. It was thrilling that the Legion was being offered such a genuinely important mission. “Yes, Ma’am. This is an honor. When do we leave?”