The Cold Dead Earth (The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Book 3)

  Contents

  Title

  Goodbye, Vexus

  The Brown Stuff

  A Federation Man Ain't Afraid to Die

  No One Returns

  Trant

  Return of the Gunboat

  Fools Die

  Heat

  Ice

  Holes

  Little Richard

  Here She Comes

  Some that Needs to Die

  Wild Boys

  Katy

  George

  The Cage

  George, Part 2

  Probe Jet

  The Kawasaki Grand

  Alexxus

  I-75

  The Thing About Town

  Vault

  Guns, Part 2

  Goodbye, Macon

  The Captain Returns

  Finding Katy

  Black Hole

  The Lost Argossy

  Battle Royale

  When Hell Breaks Loose

  Late to the Party

  Goodnight, Georgia

  The Cold Dead Earth

  The Jolo Vargas

  Space Opera Series

  Book 3

  Copyright © 2019 by J.D.Oppenheim

  All rights reserved.

  Scifiwriterjdo@gmail.com

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for downloading The Cold Dead Earth, Book 3 in the Jolo Vargas Space Opera. Please consider leaving a review if you like it.

  Check the back of the book for a link to get Book 4 for free!

  —J.D.Oppenheim

  Goodbye, Vexus

  On the surface of the planet Faraley

  The old Fed transport fell from the sky, the starboard engine spewing black smoke, the hull covered with ion cannon burns. It righted itself at the last moment, twenty meters off the ground, then crashed into the crest of a dune. A wispy gray line of smoke starting high in the sky, getting darker and more dense the closer it got to the ground, marked the twisting descent of the dying ship, like a long finger pointing down from the heavens to all her enemies: come and get it.

  The hatch opened and four marines spilled out, followed by one of the crew, perhaps the pilot. The ship was dead, and a miracle they’d even reached the ground.

  A few hundred meters away, behind the crest of a dune, Jolo Vargas watched the drama unfold through his binoculars. He sighed, blinking in the bright light of midday, and handed the binocs to Katy. “They made it. We’ll give them a ride home.”

  Katy pressed the lenses up to her eyes, then adjusted the magnification. “Four ground pounders and a pilot. That’s another one of those Iridium Class transports that ain’t fit to haul Fed cow shite much less humans.” Jolo just stared at her, the wind blowing her hair up around her head. He loved to be alone with her so he could take in long looks at her. She was beautiful, even covered in sweat and sand. It was something he had never fully realized until Merthon took the implant out and his lust for the synth girl called Jaylen faded away. He’d been blinded by it. But now he could see clearly. He reached up to move her hair away from the binoculars but that was just an excuse to touch her. “Pilot looks gimpy,” she said. “And don’t mess my hair up. I’m going for a new look.”

  “What? Wild-haired sand queen.”

  She just grinned, then turned back to the binocs. He wondered if she knew how hard he’d fallen for her. He decided he was going to kiss her, but Katy suddenly went stiff and instinctively started inching backwards.

  “No. Oh no,” she said.

  “What are you oh no-ing about?” said Jolo.

  “The bitches are back.” And Katy didn’t have to say anymore. Jolo grabbed the binoculars, and there, 500 meters and closing, were four Jaylens, synthetic assassins of the Bakanhe Grana.

  Jolo stood and loosened the holster of the Colt at his side.

  “Where you goin?” said Katy.

  “Down there,” said Jolo, pointing to the crumpled, smoking mess of the Fed transport.

  “Kray said to stay clear of the BG. We got the dead listening post he wanted. We shouldn’t even be here right now.”

  “Well, Kray didn’t say anything about not helping a Fed transport in trouble.” Jolo knew the look was coming. It was the look that swayed him: a pleading, sexy pout, one little bit of hair hanging down across her face. And the eyes--she looked up at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He felt the pull all the way down to his boots, but he resisted. Anger was a good antidote. “Your captain orders you to run to the Argossy,” he yelled.

  By then the marines had fallen into a defensive position. The sunlight glinted off their blue metallic battle gear. At least one had a long-range energy weapon. It had the long barrel with the baffle at the end.

  “They don’t need any help,” said Katy.

  “Yeah, that’s what they’re thinking,” said Jolo. “Now go!“ She just smiled at him then turned and started jogging back toward the Argossy.

  Jolo was faster than any human, but the Jaylens were faster still. The sharp-shooter marine waited until the first Jaylen was in range and took her out. She fell and slid along the white sand for a few seconds. A little dust cloud kicked up, but the other three leaped over her and didn’t miss a beat. Meanwhile the marines standing behind the sharpshooter went from a crouched, ready position, to standing straight up like they were waiting in line at a core-world beer garden. One down, three to go. Recharge time on a long-range Fed issue energy weapon is about four seconds. The three remaining Jaylens did not attempt to deviate, made no moves to throw off the next shot they knew had to be coming. Unfortunately the Fed boys were not savvy to the ways of the blonde girls in black. And the boys in blue were playing their part perfectly.

  Rule number one in any encounter with a Jaylen is don’t let her get close. The marine with the long rifle took out Jaylen number two and the other marines were high-fiving and slapping each other on the back.

  The other two girls kept coming. They knew from the start they were going to win. Jolo increased speed but he wasn’t fast enough. The Jaylens had calculated their move perfectly. They knew the proper approach speed, had factored in the soft surface, the slight tail wind and the downward curve of the dune. When Jolo saw the first Jaylen to be shot suddenly stand up and resume the chase, he knew the four marines were dead.

  Unless he could get there first.

  Fifty meters out the marines took down Jaylen number three, but it was too late. The fourth jumped high and came down with the sun in the marines’ eyes, a small red energy blade in either hand like two claws. The marines tried to bring their weapons to bear on the thin girl in black, but it was like they were moving in slow-motion. She landed in the middle of the marines, her red blades flashing. Jolo was a hundred meters out but got off a shot when she jumped to avoid an energy blast. His bullet took her out but by then two more previously fallen Jaylens arrived and it was all over. The marines were firing wildly. The two black demons with the red knives cut them apart. Jolo took another Jaylen down, but when the dust cleared all the men in blue were on the ground along with the pilot. And the final Jaylen, upon seeing Jolo, turned and ran across the sand in the other direction.

  Jolo stared down at the mess. Five Feds--five more humans gone--and for what? One of the Jaylens started to reboot and Jolo put a bullet in her head. And then he heard a scream. He looked back at the Jaylen still heading off in the other direction.

  Katy.

  He ran back toward her. She had an energy weapon, but he didn’t want to take any chances. She could fly the Argossy better than any man, but was a wild shot with a blaster under pres
sure. He should have brought Greeley. The big man wanted to come, but Jolo had selfishly chosen Katy. He just wanted to be with her, not on the Argossy or some Fed boat in space. He just wanted to be with her on a dune breathing clean air. And they could pretend everything was okay and weren’t hiding out with a bunch of disgruntled Feds.

  Jolo crested the nearest dune and could see Katy a ways off calling the Argossy on her wrist comm. He imagined Koba firing up the Argossy, and Greeley running to get his sawed-off shotgun, Betsy. But Jolo didn’t want to be late to the party twice. The Jaylen was tracking Katy with a single-minded purpose, head down and determined. Her gait was graceful and athletic, no wasted motions. Just deadly speed.

  He reached out to the synthetic girl with his mind. It was a risk but maybe he could slow her down. “Do you know who I am?” he said to her.

  “We know you,” she said. “You will come to us soon enough.”

  “Stop and I will come. The Feds are all dead and the human girl bores me.”

  “You lie, Jolo Vargas,” she said.

  By then Katy knew she was in trouble. She kept glancing back, both hands on the small energy blaster she carried. Jolo was still too far off to get a shot, but then he could just make out a wavy, gray speck in the distance. The Argossy was coming. He could hear Koba engaging both thrusters and the air around the big gray ship shimmered in the heat.

  A human would have turned and ran for cover by now. The odds were against her, but the assassin in black wasn’t worried about that. She was part of all the Jaylens and would never truly be separated from her sisters, even if her synthetic body was destroyed. She could upload her consciousness in less than a second if a BG ship or another Jaylen were in range. Even if she was utterly alone, she would still sacrifice herself.

  “I’m going to kill her,” said the synthetic girl.

  “Not today.” Jolo briefly considered stopping to take a shot but kept going. The blonde girl was getting closer and Katy was slowing down. Her strides grew heavy and labored and finally she quit and fell in the sand. She lay motionless for a split-second then popped up again with the little blaster aimed at the thin girl in black. The Argossy was getting larger but not close enough, still out of range.

  Jolo fired on the run, and missed. The blonde girl still closing.

  “She is mine,” said the synth assassin.

  Jolo squeezed off two more out-of-range shots. Neither finding their target. And then he started to get worried. He had to dip into a slight trough between two dunes and for a few seconds he wouldn’t see Katy. He couldn’t go any faster. “Koba, where are you? Get a bead on the Jaylen,” Jolo said on his wrist comm.

  “Already on it, Boss,” said Koba. “I’m full out and Greeley’s got manual control of the forward railgun.”

  “Don’t take the shot if the synth gets too close! You’ll kill them both.” Jolo crested the dune again and the synth was thirty meters from Katy who was firing like a woman possessed, but hadn’t hit home yet. Jolo fired again, missed the head—the kill shot—but hit her side, and the Jaylen got thrown off course a bit but recovered and was now twenty meters out. One more shot from Jolo and the girl fell, but got up again, took two shots from Katy’s blaster, and still had enough juice to pull out two energy blades. She’d stopped running and was now just about on top of Katy.

  The synth was going to sacrifice herself. Jolo hit her again in the body but she still kept coming. And suddenly the Argossy joined the party. A rail gun shot tore the ground near her feet, burning a black line between Katy and the synth and nearly taking out Jolo in the process. Two more shots came from the rail gun. One clipped the Jaylen and took her left leg off and Jolo could feel a burning sensation on the side of his face.

  The synth was on top of Katy by then but Jolo shot her in the head and the synthetic girl finally fell. Jolo grabbed Katy by the arm and pulled her back out of the way as Greeley ran up.

  The big man pointed his shotgun at the blond synth’s head.

  Jolo and Katy walked up and they all stared down at the still, lifeless form of the synth girl, the red blades still lit in either hand. She had one leg, the other burned up by the big gun. Her eyes were open but she’d taken a bullet to the head and all logic and communication functions were destroyed. For a moment there was silence, everyone breathing hard, Katy covered in sand.

  The synth twitched involuntarily, and Greeley lowered the end of his shotgun.

  Jolo kicked her with his boot. “Ain’t nothing. Don’t fire.”

  The girl’s one good leg twitched again and suddenly Greeley blew a hole in the synth’s chest with his shotgun.

  “I just said DON’T FIRE!” yelled Jolo. “One day we might need that shell to save someone, but they’ll be dead. And then we’ll think back to right now when you wasted a perfectly good shot on a dead synth.”

  “Ain’t so, Cap!” Greeley yelled right back. “You know them little bitches kin git right back up and go to work on a man. Or woman.”

  “Yeah, but that one was gone.”

  “Not gone from the eighteen shots you took before you finally hit her in the noggin.”

  “Four! I took four.” And Jolo squared off on the big man, who was red-faced and sweaty.

  Greeley had a death grip on Betsy, the muscles on his arms bulging and tense. “I ain’t had no gun play in quite some time and you begrudge me one dang shell?” he yelled. “Leave me here, maybe a few more a them blondes will come along and I kin have some fun ‘stead of dying up there on that big, Fed, insane asylum.”

  “You disobey another order and I will leave you here.”

  “You sound an awful lot like one of those dang, tippy-toed, blue-suit officers ain’t worth a shite! Maybe you aught to stop kissing arse on that big, shiny boat up there and get back to being Jolo.”

  Jolo stared up at the sweaty man with the shotgun. This had been coming for a few weeks, so might as well have it out here and now. Jolo handed the Colt to Katy. Greeley’s sweaty grimace turned into a smile as he wrapped his shirt around his gun and put it on the sand.

  By then Koba had lowered the rear hatchway of the Argossy. The synth, George, was standing inside the rear hold trying to suss out what was going on. “Just a little conflict resolution,” Jolo yelled.

  Jolo ducked Greeley’s first punch easily, landed a quick left, and started to think it wasn’t going to be a fair fight. Jolo was faster and stronger. But then Greeley landed a strong right that Jolo didn’t see coming. The first bit was a setup. Greeley laughed. “Used the same move on one o’ your Fed officer buddies.”

  “Y’all stop,” yelled Katy.

  Jolo could hear the pain in her voice. This wasn’t the way things were done. But times were strange. Jolo didn’t know who he was any more now that Duval was gone, now that the war had started up again and the pirates from Duval were trapped on a big Fed boat with rules and order and Fed green for dinner and all manner of Federation red tape that had confounded the pirate crew ever since Duval was destroyed.

  The captain ducked a vicious, but wild punch, and caught Greeley in the ribs. He eased off on the power, but the big man fell, clutching his side, gasping for air. He hit the ground and rolled, writhing in pain.

  Jolo ran to him. “You okay, Greeley?” He knelt down in the sand and tried to feel if any ribs were broken. He looked at Katy and she was shaking her head, scowling. Just then a giant hand wrapped tight around Jolo’s neck. And suddenly, Jolo couldn’t breath. Greeley was grinning again.

  “You a dang sucker,” said the big man, little bits of sand and spittle hitting Jolo in the face. Jolo was through playing. He hit Greeley in the face then brought his hand down on Greeley’s arm almost as hard as he could. Greeley lost his grip on Jolo’s neck and the two started circling each other again. Both breathing hard.

  Katy fired the shotgun into the sky. BOOM!

  “I’m leaving both of you idiots,” she said.

  Just then Koba’s voice came over the external speakers. “We got two BG Cr
uisers and a transport just popped in on the other side of the planet. We gotta go.”

  The Brown Stuff

  Aboard the Federation Defender Persephony

  Jolo stepped down onto docking bay C25 of the Persephony and put his hand on the hull of his Argossy, the vintage, round-nosed starship from a previous generation. Kray had offered him a sleek, Fed gunboat like he used to captain, but he’d refused. “Thank you, Girl,” he said, “you always bring us home.”

  “Talking to it isn’t going to help,” said a man in Fed blues named Crenshaw.

  Jolo stared at him blankly. Kray’s little pet. Then he did his typical post-run visual inspection of the ship. Hurley and Barth would do the same, he knew, but more eyes the better.

  “We heard there was trouble,” said the Fed man.

  “Let me clue you in, Crenshaw,” said Greeley. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder like they were friends at a pub, then looked around as if to make sure no one was listening and whispered, “There’s a war.”

  “Why do you have a black eye? And you seem to be favoring your side,” said the man.

  “Is there a war?” said Katy.

  “There ain’t no war,” said Koba. “Greeley is an idiot.”

  Pretty soon Hurley and Barth joined in and they all surrounded Crenshaw arguing with Greeley over whether there was actually a war. “No, Greeley, see, the blonde girls are really sex slaves and they want to, you know, do it,” said Koba.

  “Whoa.” Greeley slapped his big hand on his forehead. “You mean all this time I been leaving Betsy-sized holes in ‘em an’ I coulda been, you know, doin’ it?” He slapped Crenshaw on the back so hard the man coughed.

  “Crenshaw, let’s get us a boat and head to the core, brother!” said Greeley. He laughed and then grabbed his ribs in pain.

  Jolo sighed, all the anger from earlier suddenly replaced by regret. He’d hurt Greeley. Here they were outnumbered a hundred to one. Trapped in a web of Fed protocol. Their ways were gone.