by Gerry Hart
“His destination is the planet, Legend.“ Tork said solemnly.
“What makes you believe that? “ Galveston asked.
“It’s always been his plan. “ Tork said.
“What are his machinations, Phillip ? “ Oman asked
“Enough talk. We‘ll ask him what he planned when we apprehend him.“ Galveston interrupted in a sharp tone of voice. “Prepare to leave orbit.“
“Farewell for now, old friend. “ Oman said to Tork. “We will talk later.”
“Farewell, Oman.“ Tork spoke softly. “Godspeed.“
“Split screen, vertical.“ Terrain spoke to the computer. “I want a view of both bridges. “
The computer complied showing Galveston and Oman manning their respective bridges. Both bridges compromised a rectangular area. Manned stations
formed along the area in a u shape. Helm stood separated and to one side. A cylindrical object with a orb at its tip stood in the middle.
“Proceed at normal speed …. “ Oman ordered.
“ …. then punch it to star drive upon leaving orbit. ’ Galveston ordered.
“Sir!“ An ensign from Galveston’s bridge called. “Object approaching on port side. “
“On screen.“ Galveston ordered.
A holographic image erupted from the cylindrical object. The image revealed a large satellite coming to a halt in front of the I.S.S. Algeni and Lindsey. “It’s O.B.S.E.A.C.C.!“ Terrain couldn’t help but shout from his computer console.
Terrain addressed the computer. “Satellite near viewed coordinates? “
The computer displayed a tactical map showing a satellite approaching the confrontation.
“Computer, access satellite’s visual of star cruisers then split screen showing, satellite’s view with star cruisers’ bridge. “ Terrain ordered.
“O.B., why do you block our path? “ Oman inquired.
“My apologies, Crisis Master Oman. I have been instructed to prevent anyone from leaving this planet.“ OB responded.
“By who’s orders, OB ? “ Galveston bellowed.
There was silence as an answer was expected from O.B.S.E.A.C.C.
“He’s struggling.“ Terrain said softly.
“By order of Travis Obee.“ O.B.S.E.A.C.C. finally declared.
“What has Travis Obee done to you? “ Oman asked.
“Not Obee…. Professor Ibdidgor.“ O.B. was struggling again. “Professor has aligned himself to Obee. Obee has promised him… subjects to use in… experiments he would not be allowed to…. conduct while residing…. in Last Humanity. In return, Ibdidgor added a subroutine … to my program. I was to aid Obee in subverting discovery of his machinations including the eventual quarantine of Crisis Master Headquarters on Techno-World! “
As O.B.S.C.E.A.C.C. revealed his part in Travis Obee’s scheme, Galveston signaled the weapons station. The weapons station armed guided lasers and missiles.
“Enough!“ Galveston bellowed. “O.B.S.E.A.C.C., you are property of the Last Humanity…. “
“Crisis Master Galveston, I have anticipated your current attempt… “ OB began to state simultaneously.
“…. and thus own allegiance to only the colony! “
“… and tell you that you will not succeed. “
“I order you to stand down and let us pass! “
“I cannot, Crisis Master Galveston. Please do not make me fire upon you.“
“Thrusters ahead full.“ Galveston ordered the helm.
“I have locked weapons on your ship, Crisis Master Galveston. “ OB declared in an almost frantic tone.
Suddenly, a missile rocked OB’s defense platform. “Did you forget about me, OB.?“ Oman asked. “You’ve exhibited a human trait! “ Oman addressed the weapons station. “Shields up. Fire guided lasers and rockets!“
Galveston echoed the same orders to his bridge crew.
Explosions occurred against and around OB’s defense platform, eventually enveloping it in a miasma of fire, plasma, and smoke. The barrage continued for minutes.
“Cease fire.“ The two Crisis Masters ordered simultaneously.
The cloud of smoke and plasma roiled for long seconds.
Ten…. Fifteen…. Twenty-five…. A half minute….
Suddenly, OB’s defense platform roared out of the cloud. Its titanium hull side swiped I.S.S. Algeni. Its weapons open fired on I.S.S. Lindsey.
“Shields down to sixty percent!“ The weapons station informed Oman.
“Fire at will.“ Oman replied.
The I.S.S. Lindsey spun out of control. Crewmen were rocked around the bridge including Galveston himself. The helm was able to retain his position and restore order.
“Geo-synchronizers back online! “ The helm informed.
“Shields down to twenty percent!“ Weapons shouted.
Galveston lay sprawled against a post near the center of the bridge. Blood streamed from a deep gash.
“Evasive maneuvers.“ He slurred. “Try to get a lock on target. “
Mender Terrain and Phillip Tork watched helplessly. The three way screen they viewed showed the effort Galveston was making and the barrage Oman was enduring. The third screen showed OB’s defense platform cease the assault on the I.S.S. Algeni and glide toward the I.S.S. Lindsey, firing weapons as it approached.
Despite the latest barrage, Galveston managed to regain his footing although he had to hold onto a post to maintain it.
“Shields down. Weapons offline.“ Weapons gave the report in a tone of finality.
Galveston looked toward the screen which somehow exhibited a close up of the defense platform’s firing barrels.
“God help us.“ Galveston gasped in what would be his last breath.
OB disintegrated I.S.S. Lindsey in weapons fire.
Terrain’s computer switched to two screens.
The defense platform slid back to the I.S.S. Algeni then paused. Algeni had lost its geo-synchronizers, causing it to drift at an angle. The defense platform slid past Algeni and out of view.
Terrain tried to communicate with Oman. “Oman, why didn’t OB finish you? Can you return to base?“
Oman had been helping one of the computer stations. He approached the view screen. “We can’t return. OB left us because it probably detected the imminent core breach. Escape pods were damaged during the battle. We’re trapped.
“You must lead the Crisis Masters now, Terrain. You must find Travis Obee and put a stop to whatever he’s planning. He’s proven himself a formidable enemy. He must be stopped at all cost. “
“Core breach imminent!“ A voice in the background yelled.
“Godspeed.“ Oman whispered.
Terrain and Tork viewed explosions on the bridge and explosions erupting from the Algeni. Finally, the screen went black.
There was a long silence between Terrain and Tork. “We have to take one step at a time.“ Tork finally said.
“Two cruisers have been wiped out!“ Terrain admonished.
“Mourn later! We’ve got to stop Travis and the only way to do it is to get by that damn computer. “
“We got our work cut out for us. “
A beeping emitted from the dashboard. As a small view screen popped out, Terrain pulled out a microphone. “Crisis Master Terrain.“
“Are you getting this?” Rave asked with concern.
“What?”
“It’s on every monitor.”
“I turned ours off.”
Terrain turned the monitor back on.
It was the Duchess Camille.
“This video is being broadcast to every monitor at Crisis Master HQ.” She began. “However, the message is directed toward Crisis Master Terrain, or is it Administrator Terrain now? Obee send his condolences and congratulations, Mender Terrain.
“I shall get right to the point. O.B.S.E.A.C.C. has proved its combat superiority. You now have only one star cruiser. You have no hope to defeat O.B.S.E.A.C.C. or what’s to come.
“If that is not
incentive to reign yourself and your fellow Crisis Masters in, Terrain, I have been directed to give you further incentive.”
The Duchess pressed a button off screen. The video switched to Orianna huddled on a bed, obviously frightened.
“I want my Daddy!” Orianna cried in a voice that became more frantic and screeching.
“Ori! Godamn you bitch!” Mender bellowed.
Tork put a hand on Mender’s shoulder. “Its a video, Terrain. She can’t hear you.”
The Duchess returned to the screen.
“Take no further action, Terrain, and your daughter will be returned to you... eventually. Make any attempt to rescue her or capture Obee and I will rescind my protection.”
The screen exploded as Terrain’s fist went through it.
10
September 9, 4072, 12:00 AM.
The hovercar circled Terrain’s unit. Crisis Master Units had converged on the unit.
“My God, why didn’t the units report this in?” Terrain said aloud.
“Chess players must anticipate moves ahead of time.” Doc the Dahlia replied,
The hovercar landed on an undamaged piece of precipice connected to Terrain’s unit. Terrain, his Dahlia, and Phillip Tork disembarked.
“Crisis Master Terrain, we’ve been trying to contact you, but our transmissions seemed to have been jammed.” A Crisis Master informed then gestured to the crime scene.”We’ve been able to discern that four assailants crashed into your unit probably via reinforced hovercar. They met resistance from your Nanny-bot who I believe disabled three of the assailants. However, the fourth assailants managed to disable your Nanny-bot.”
“How?”Terrain asked. His attention focused on the down Nanny-bot.
“I noticed that your electrical equipment isn’t functioning.” Another Crisis Master spoke up. “Only some type of emp device could cause this type of disruption. The device must have been intended for the android.”
“How did the last assailant escape?”
“Hovercraft was protected somehow?”
Terrain approached and knelt beside the Nanny-bot. She was lying on her stomach with her head to the side. Terrain brushed aside her hair. Her face was frozen in a mask of determination.
The Duchess would not have succeeded without the emp device.
Terrain rolled the Nanny-bot onto her back then picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He headed for the hovercar. Doc followed him.
The two Crisis Masters looked at each other than to Tork in confusion.
“Call the meat wagon for the bodies. Seal the hole. You can return to HQ after.” Tork ordered.
“Excuse me, sir.” One Crisis Master spoke up. “You’re Phillip Tork. You have an arrest warrant.”
“I was cleared, Crisis Master.” Tork said dismissively. ”Do as you’re ordered.”
Tork exited the unit, entering the hovercar.
September 9, 4072, 1:00 AM.
Terrain watched a female technician work on the Nanny-bot’s circuitry. She had opened a panel on the Nanny-bot’s head in order to gain access to the circuit brain in an attempt to reactivate the android.
Terrain was surprised by his agitation. He was concerned about his daughter but his current feelings were for the android.
Terrain hadn’t felt this level of agitation since he had to watch his wife die of Lomotics Disease.
The technician was successful. The Nanny-bot was reactivated.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Terrain said. “You’re dismissed.”
The technician nodded then left. Terrain closed the door behind her. He reached up to a security camera and deactivated it.
The Nanny-bot looked around with concern.
“Where am I?” She asked.
“Crisis Master Headquarters.”
Shock formed on her face.
“Orianna and I were attacked!”
Terrain nodded, trying to subdue a sob. “They disabled you and kidnapped Ori.”
“Why?”
“I have been left in command of the Crisis Masters. They believe holding Orianna hostage will deter me.”
“I-We must find her.”
“We will, but, first, we need to get by the master computer, O.B.S.E.A.C.C.”
“I want to go with you. I can help. I can access the computer.”
Terrain nodded in agreement then held her.
“I-I thought I lost you.” He admitted. “I think my feelings for you run deeper than I led myself to believe.”
The Nanny-bot caressed Terrain’s face.
“What is that human expression?” She asked drawing Terrain close to her. “I’m here for you.”
They kissed.
September 10, 4072, 7:00 am.
Commodore Paul Croteau was a bit of an eccentric, a characteristic highly unusual for a person involved in service to the Crisis Masters. When addressed with this issue, Commander Croteau would ask: “ How can I be called eccentric when you have Crisis Masters dressing up as knights in shining armor, Paul Bunyan, samurai, Puritans, and freakin’ lords of the jungle ?! “
Commodore Paul Croteau was the commander of the Crisis Master’s last starship, I.S.S. Providence. His love of starships fit in to his eccentricity. Croteau was obsessed with the navy service of Old Earth. He and his crew wore authentic navy khaki uniforms. Croteau wore antique navy baseball caps, one for each day of the week and beyond. He and his crew observed ancient navy protocols.
Commodore Croteau stood on the bridge of his star cruiser. Croteau stood at six feet even. His hair was receding and he carried a slight paunch, but Paul was as robust and vital as a twenty-five year old. Paul always refers to his service files if someone asks his age. However, he will gladly tell you his years in service - fifty years.
Croteau stood at attention before Mender Terrain, the remaining officer in authority of the Crisis Master organization. There was a man standing next to Terrain named Phillip Tork. Croteau recognized Phillip Tork from the naval logs. Apparently, this living legend was involved with a number of space and sea battles. The merit made Tork an okay joe in his book.
There was a woman standing next to Croteau. She seemed to be distraught, but consoled by Terrain and his Dahlia. Croteau didn’t share a symbiotic relationship with a Dahlia. Croteau shared the unique privilege all space personnel shared. Space personnel were considered too disciplined to be monitored by Dahlias.
“We appreciate you coming out of retirement, Commodore.“ Phillip Tork said.
“Semi-retirement, lad.“ Croteau admitted as his voice turned morose. “I really didn’t believe I’d stay away from a star cruiser’s bridge forever. However, I regret the circumstances that brought me back. How could we have been so blind to put all our faith in a computer run by a madman?“
“Professor Ibdidgor was considered a humanitarian up until this point, Commodore. “ Mender Terrain said. “As for the computer, I think it’s a reluctant player.“
“Reluctant ? How can a computer be reluctant?“
“O.B.S.E.A.C.C. is one of the few computer models programmed with emotions. “ The Nanny-Bot answered. “Emotions programmed into a computer produce a side effect.“
“Which is?“ Croteau asked.
“The computer develops a conscience.“
“That’s why I insisted she be brought along, Commodore.“ Mender Terrain said. “Her purpose on this mission is to serve as a distraction for O.B.“
Terrain looked at the Nanny-Bot, catching her stare.
“I have no doubt of her persuasiveness.“ He said with a smile.
“You keep referring to it as ’her’. She’s a robot.“
Terrain mentally excused the Commodore’s bias.
“She’s proven much more to me, Commodore.“ Terrain responded. “That’s all I need to say.“
“Yes sir. “ Croteau acknowledged. Despite Croteau’s high rank, he still had to answer to Terrain, the presiding executive officer.
“Sir! “ Lieutenant Shea the communications officer
spoke up. “Five requesting to board.“
“And they are?“ Croteau asked.
“Crisis Masters Berringer, Negatt, Rave Henderson and two androids. “
Croteau smiled then looked at Terrain. Terrain nodded.
“Permission granted.“ Croteau said.
A few minutes later, Rave Henderson entered onto the bridge with the androids, Zach and Derek followed by . Berringer and Negat
She saluted Commodore Croteau. “ It’s good to see you again, Commodore.“
“Likewise, Crisis Master.“ Croteau said returning the salute.
“You two know each other? “ Terrain asked.
“We’ve had… prior relations.“ Croteau responded.
“Why I gave up men.” Rave smiled at Croteau then turned her attention to Terrain.
“I’ve been given a clean bill of health and cleared for this mission, Crisis Master Terrain. “ Rave informed.
“And these two?“ Terrain asked about the automatons.
“They’re my… bodyguards.“
“I know what you’re here for Rave. You’ll get your payback against the Duchess only when and if the mission permits it. Understood?“
“Yes sir.“
“Commodore, I turn command over to you.“
“Thank you.“ Croteau said simply, and then addressed his weapons officer. “Weapons, is that satellite ready to launch ? “
“Ready.“ Ensign Dan Cohen replied.
“Launch her.“
“Satellite launched.“
“Helm, prepare for liftoff.“
“Aye.“ Corporal Marty Croteau, brother to Paul, acknowledged. “Power generator at full. Thrusters at maximum. Ready to launch at your command. “
“Launch on my mark…. Mark ! “
The star cruiser lifted off from the launch pad of Crisis Master headquarters.
“Ten minutes to break stratosphere.“ Corporal Croteau announced.
“Switch to running speed upon breaking stratosphere then halt and retain position one hundred thousand kilometers from planet.“ Commodore Croteau ordered.
“One hundred thousand kilometers. Aye, aye, sir. “