PLATOON F: QUADOLOGY
Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9
From the files of Platoon F
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Table of Contents
Warped Conduit
Kidnap on Fantasy Planet
Veli Unveiled
The Search for Veli
UNDER ATTACK
Captain Don Harr slammed into his command chair as a barrage of missiles struck the side of his ship. The SSMC Reluctant hadn’t been built to handle this type of abuse. She was a ship meant to be attached to rails in space. Yes, it was idiocy, but that’s how things were done on Harr’s home planet of Segnal.
“Any idea where the hell these guys came from?” he asked to nobody in particular.
“No, sir,” answered his second-in-command, Kip Sandoo, who stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back, his strong jaw pointed toward the main screen.
Another jolt nearly took Harr completely out of the chair. He struggled to right himself while the rest of his crew barely budged, holding themselves in place as if nothing had happened. To be fair, they were all androids. They had the strength to brace themselves in the roughest situations. Harr didn’t have that luxury seeing that he was the only human aboard.
“You should put your seatbelt on, sir,” Commander Sandoo suggested.
“If I can get situated for more than two seconds, Commander, I’ll do just that.” Fortunately, he got just enough of a reprieve to click his belt in place before the next explosion, and then he slammed his fist on the button that activated the intercom on his chair. “Geezer,” he called down to engineering, “can you get us the hell out of here before these ships destroy us?”
“No can do, chief,” Geezer replied in the only attitude-laced monotone voice that Harr had ever heard. Considered antiquated even by robotic standards on Segnal, Geezer came from the G.3.3.Z.3.R. line, meaning that he had attitude and good old-fashioned engineering skills. He was the epitome of the old style robot, including the spindly arms, blocky torso, and little antennas sticking off his square head. He was the only other non-android on the Reluctant. “I’m fighting enough just to keep our circuits humming. Shields are dropping pretty damn fast. At this rate, they’ll be dead pretty soon.”
“So will we.”
“Thir,” Lieutenant Hank Moon said in his lisped way, “it looks like they’re attacking in a standard delta pattern.” The lisp wasn’t consistent, but then again neither was Hank Moon. He inhabited one of the most perfect female specimens Harr had ever laid eyes on. Dark skin, firm body, long legs, beautiful smile, and a great mind. He had started out as a she, or, more accurately, a they that consisted of three distinct personalities, but on that fateful day when Geezer was finally able to meld all three of those personalities into one, Hank Moon rose to the top and became the final representative.
“Standard delta, you say?”
“Yes, thir.”
“I see,” Harr said, though he didn’t. “Is that useful information?”
“It is, thir,” Hank said, turning back to look at him. “We could counter them with an Alpha-Theta-3-1-Switch.”
Harr blinked at Moon as his mind struggled to recall exactly what an Alpha-Theta-3-1-Switch looked like.
“Okay,” he said, hopefully, “do that.”
“I don’t know how, thir.”
“Then what was the purpose of bringing it up, Lieutenant?”
“I thought maybe you knew the maneuver.”
“And I probably should,” Harr replied before the ship took another hit. This one was just a graze, but it kept them in the game. “My cadet training was some years ago, Lieutenant. Certainly there’s something on the computer that details this, right?”
Lieutenant Brekka Ridly spun in her chair, looking a bit more soldierly than Lieutenant Moon. Where Moon was quite curvy, wore makeup, and did his hair in various fashions, depending on the day, Ridly was muscular, kept her skin free of cosmetics, and had only one hairstyle: cropped.
“Sir,” she said, “the Alpha-Theta-3-1-Switch is a just a reverse thrust move.”
“Could you expand on that a little bit?”
“Basically, we reverse the polarity of the magnetism on propulsion. The ship will screech to a halt on the rails and then send us screaming backward while the enemy ships zip on by. Then we can light them up from behind.”
“I see,” said Harr while he pursed his lips and tapped his first finger on the bridge of his nose. “Makes perfect sense, except for the bit where we’re no longer on rails, Lieutenant.”
“Oh yeah,” Ridly replied. “Forgot about that.”
A blast caused Harr’s head to flip backward, giving him a bit of whiplash. It was the worst strike yet, strong enough to set a few of the main panels aflame.
Ensigns Grover Curr and Miles Middleton grabbed extinguishers and started putting out one of the fires that flared up on the secondary access panel that sat by the hatch.
“I’m already working on this one, you ass,” Middleton, the larger of the two, said to Curr.
“I was here first, jerk,” Curr replied as he tried to muscle Middleton out of the way. “Go work on the other one!”
The two ensigns had been relatively quiet during the first few missions that the Reluctant had run, but they’d grown more and more agitated with each other as the days rolled on. There were times where Harr thought there would be an all-out brawl between the two.
By now, Ensign Brand Jezden had joined in to help put out the flames. Jezden was the one that Harr had the most issues with. He was insubordinate, had a bad attitude, rubbed most of the men the wrong way, and rubbed most of the women the right way—assuming they allowed him to, which they most often did. To say he was good-looking was an understatement, but it was what he packed in his groin region that made every man within a light year feel inadequate in comparison. Put it this way: the android had won the coveted Steel Bone Award for his participation at the Loose Box Porno Convention on the planet Klood.
“Are we at least firing back?” Harr asked. “Please tell me somebody has taken the initiative on that.”
They glanced around at each other.
“Seriously? Come on, gang. You’re supposed to be soldiers!”
THE OVERSEERS
The room was mostly dark as the Overseers, in general, did not like to be seen. Some were less conspicuous than others, but many were hidden under dark archways that were purposefully set in shadows.
Frexle stood before them, ready to give his monthly report on the status of the nation. The nation being the group of hand-selected people from various races in the universe. Frexle was one of the few who had access to records on every member, and so he knew the level of representation for each major population sector. There were only 143,927 citizens in all, including spouses, offspring, and oftentimes members of their respective extended families. The panel consisted of 14 members.
“My esteemed colleagues,” he said strongly, trying to hide his apprehension, “the HadItWithTheKillings political party is rising in popularity.”
“Damn liberals,” Veli, the Lord Overseer, said with a grumble. “Who cares what they think?”
Murmurs from the rest of the panel indicated their agreement.
“Normally I would agree, my lord,” Frexle said carefully, “but their support is steadily increasing among the populace. Last year they were at five percent, last month it was twenty-five percent, and an hour ago they had climbed to thirt
y-three percent.”
“That’s still not enough to challenge the current party, Frexle,” said Senator Calloom.
“Very true, Senator. However, it’s becoming increasingly clear that their rate of support is significant. Jumping eight points in a single month is dangerous. The recent rate of acceptance postulates that they will hit fifty percent support in a matter of months.”
Senator Pookand stood up and placed his frail hands on the podium that stood in front of his chair. “We’ll just put out some new pictures of ourselves playing a round of golf on Landumbi like we did before the last elections.”
“Excellent idea,” said Calloom. “That gave us a solid three percent bump last time.”
“We could also release a set of new posters,” Senator Kleeve suggested. “The people love posters, especially if we put our faces on them.”
Frexle thought that it was a decent idea as well, except that the only senators who had ever been insane enough to show their faces to the general populace were Pookand, Calloom, and Kleeve.
“Yes,” Pookand agreed. “Or we could make the posters poke fun at the HadItWithTheKillings group.”
“Capital idea, Senator Pookand,” Kleeve said as she jotted a note on her datapad. “I hadn’t thought of using attack tactics.”
“Posters and photo ops are clever and cute,” Veli chimed in, “but I feel that an assassination is in order.” The senators seemed to find this idea the most appealing of them all. “Frexle, what do we know of their leadership?”
“Not much, Lord Overseer,” Frexle answered apologetically. “It’s an underground movement. Their message moves through hidden channels via untraceable routes. They are very clever, I’m afraid.”
“Do they even have a leader?”
“If they do, my lord, he or she is well disguised.” There was a moment of silence. Then, Frexle said, “Sometimes all that’s needed is an idea to change the course of history.”
“I hate ideas,” Veli grumbled, “except those that are my own, of course. Hard to kill an idea, though I have killed tougher things.”
“Ideas are easily destroyed by pointing out their ridiculousness,” Pookand said.
“True,” Veli said. “What’s the idea again, Frexle?”
“That we shouldn’t simply wipe out a civilization because they are progressing in a direction that may threaten our superiority, Lord Overseer.”
“Wait, that’s it?” asked Kleeve, leaning forward just enough so that Frexle could make out her pallid green skin.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What do they expect us to do?”
“Uh…not wipe out complete civilizations anymore?”
“Don’t get snarky with me, young man,” Kleeve admonished. “My point is that the council is tasked with making sure that no group, race, world, or what have you, ever comes close to dethroning our great empire, right?” Frexle nodded. “So when we see some snotty little upstart getting close to a discovery that will lead them down a path of power strong enough to challenge us, it is our sworn duty to take action.”
“Exactly,” Veli said. “Well stated, Senator.”
Frexle paused a moment to let the chatter die down. She was indeed correct. The purpose of the council was exactly as she had said, along with a smattering of other things such as voting on tax bills, pushing agendas, and managing the growth of the population in a strictly controlled fashion.
“You are, of course, correct in your assertion, Senator Kleeve,” Frexle stated finally. “However, their argument is that we should target our efforts in such a way as to minimize damage.”
“What does that mean?” Pookand asked.
“I’m completely lost,” said Calloom.
“Well, sir,” Frexle said, looking at the papers in front of him, “we currently have many methods under our employ. For example, we use massive asteroids to destroy entire planets.”
“That’s one of my top-five favorites,” noted Veli.
Frexle bit his lip. “Worldwide plagues.”
“Can get really creative with those,” said Pookand.
“Infestations that destroy entire crops and cause mass famine,” added Frexle.
“The invention of locusts was inspired,” Kleeve said.
“It was nothing,” Calloom replied humbly. “Just a stroke of luck.”
“I could go on and on,” Frexle said, looking up from his papers.
“Please do,” Pookand requested.
“But the people are losing interest in these things,” Frexle stated, ignoring Pookand. “What they’re asking for is that we find a way to target our attacks and minimize the loss of life. The argument is that it makes no sense for a planet to be destroyed when we can simply sabotage or discredit the few individuals who are causing the changes in the first place. Their question, council members, is why do we need to engage in extermination?”
“It’s fun?” suggested Pookand.
“It sates our bloodlust?” offered Kleeve.
“The kids love it?” Calloom noted.
Frexle held up the latest report from the polling booths. “The numbers I’ve brought today, senators, would suggest that the people are not as fond of it as they once were, and they’re losing that fondness more and more as the days progress.”
“Then let’s set up a plan to hunt these dissenters down and kill them,” Veli commanded.
“We could do that, Lord Overseer, but again we don’t know precisely who they are.”
“Shit,” Veli said with a grunt. The familiar sound of tapping could be heard from his darkened archway. “Okay, Frexle, you’ve clearly thought about this. What do you suggest we do?”
Frexle took this moment to let it sink in with the rest of the senators that Lord Overseer Veli had just positioned him as an idea man. This meant a lot when dealing with the council because they were against change. Fortunately, they were more against being ousted or outright killed, and Veli was known to take drastic action against anyone who challenged his position. His world, after all, was a microcosm of the Overseers as a whole.
“As to that, Lord Overseer,” Frexle began, “I have found a small ship with an unattached crew—”
“You mean there’s nobody on the ship?” Calloom interrupted.
“No, Senator, I mean that the crew of this ship has no home world,” Frexle replied. “Well, they obviously came from a planet, but these particular people have outgrown that planet and are no longer a part of it. They left it to live on their own.”
“You mean they’re starting a new world?”
“I don’t think so, Senator Kleeve. They simply don’t fit in anymore. The planet that they come from is called Segnal.” Frexle pulled up a visual and pointed to a small dot on the field of stars. “It is a bit slow, technologically.”
“Are those ships on rails, Frexle?”
“Yes, Lord Overseer.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“And I would imagine that this small crew I’m speaking of would agree. You see, sir, the ship that they are flying in doesn’t need rails. In fact, their ship has extremely advanced technology, including instantaneous travel, cloaking, and even time travel.”
“Kill them at once!” shouted Veli.
“They must be destroyed,” complained Pookand.
“They’ll overrun us in no time!” Calloom argued with a shriek. “Think of the children, man!”
“I’ll make posters straightaway,” Kleeve chimed in.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Frexle said a bit more loudly than he had intended. This garnered him harsh stares from the senators that he was able to see, and he could have sworn that he heard a growl from Veli’s position. “I’m sorry to have raised my voice, esteemed council,” he said with a quick bow of his head, “but you must understand that this tiny ship has no idea that we even exist. And even if they did, we are still more powerful than they are. Again, they’re just a small crew.” The silence was deafening. “Now, please don’t get
me wrong. My first thought was to destroy them with a massive bang, but then I got to thinking about the polling results and I wondered if maybe we couldn’t utilize this ship as a tool to solve our issues.”
“How do you mean?” said Veli after a time.
“Well, my lord, we could use them to do our dirty work for us.”
“You mean espionage?” asked Pookand.
“Something like that, yes.”
“That might work, actually,” said Calloom. “Done right, we’d look like heroes to this HadItWithTheKillings group, too.”
“Yes,” said Veli, “but what about the assassinations and such? This crew you’re suggesting would still manage things like that?”
“Statistically speaking, Lord Overseer, I can’t imagine they’d be able to succeed without at least some measure of violence. But since their efforts would be on a smaller scale, it won’t be as distasteful to those in our public who have lost their desire for blood.”
“Hmmm,” Veli said.
“Can we still have posters?” asked Kleeve.
“I’d say it’s a must,” answered Calloom.
“And,” Pookand was quick to point out, “let’s not forget about the golf on Landumbi.”
“I wouldn’t dream of forgetting that,” Calloom said.
“Then it’s settled?” said Frexle.
The room grew quiet as Veli thought things through. Everyone had said their piece and now it was up to the Lord Overseer to make the final determination. Frexle had done all he could to present his case. If Veli decided not to go with it, then the HadItWithTheKillings group would eventually take things over and install a new regime that carried its own problems. Until then, Frexle would continue doing his duty to the best of his ability.
“Fine,” Veli said unhappily, “we’ll give it a try, Frexle. If it fails, though, we will destroy this ship of yours, and then we’ll go back to the killings as we’ve always done. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Lord Overseer.”
“Where is this ship now?”
Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2) Page 1
