“In a mock battle that I set up, my lord,” Frexle answered. “I wanted to see how they would handle themselves in a state of conflict.”
“Ooh,” said Kleeve, again sitting forward, “I want to watch.”
“Me too,” agreed Pookand.
“Put it on-screen, Frexle,” commanded Calloom.
GET US OUT OF HERE
Being thrashed about in a spaceship isn’t as fun as it sounds. Even the androids were starting to get into the swing of things as the unknown enemy upped their attack. Harr had never seen the Reluctant in such a state of disarray. Granted, it wasn’t like she had been a sparkling new ship when he’d inherited her, and there was still a lot to her that he was unfamiliar with, but he was damn certain that the wires dangling from the ceiling hadn’t been shooting sparks earlier that day.
Another hit caused the lights on the bridge to shut down.
“Geezer, the lights are out up here.”
“Same down here, prime,” Geezer replied. “Working on it.”
“We still have control of the helm, thir.”
“Good to know, Lieutenant.”
“Weapons are still functioning,” Curr added.
“Hitting anything?” asked Harr.
“Took out one of their smaller ships,” said Middleton, “but there are still quite a few hot on our tail.”
That’s when it hit Harr. They didn’t need rails to pull off something like an Alpha-Theta-3-1-Switch. All they needed was the right mix of thrust, luck, and a complete disregard for physics. They’d survived on that concoction many times before.
“Geezer,” Harr said excitedly, “remember when we were flying wildly toward that Kortnor space station during our first mission together?”
“Hard to forget, chief.”
“Yeah, it truly was something.”
“No, I mean it’s hard for me to forget anything. I’m a robot, remember?”
“Right,” Harr said with a grimace. “Point is that you had hooked up the Reluctant so we could use the thrusters to push us off course in a hurry.”
“That was impressive, if I do say so myself. Completely impossible physics, that.”
“True,” Harr said, “but somehow you managed it.”
“That’s ‘cause I was never any good at physics, honcho.”
Harr laughed at that, but soon realized he was the only one who found it humorous. Chances are that not even Geezer had intended it as a joke.
“Incoming,” said Jezden seconds before the Reluctant shuddered again. “Aft shields are down to ten percent. We can’t take much more of this.”
“You hear that, Geezer?”
“I felt it, big cat. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, can you manage to be equally poor at paying attention to the laws of the universe and find a way for us to outmaneuver these bastards?”
“Sure,” Geezer said without hesitation. “Give me about an hour.”
“You have two minutes.”
“Seriously?” Geezer replied. “What is it with you starship captains? An engineer tells you that they need a certain amount of time to accomplish some ridiculous task, and you respond by giving them no time at all. How’s that supposed to work?”
“Now’s not the time—”
“But when I’m looking for my annual review,” the irritated robot continued, “where are you to be found? Off drinking at some cantina, that’s where.
“Honestly,” Harr said as he sat in the dark, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but this just isn’t—”
“And when I finally do manage to corner one of you higher-ups, I just hear some mumbo jumbo about how Human Resources has yet to get my paperwork back to you. So I ask when you expect to have everything in-hand and you give me a week as a timeframe. What would you say if I replied with, ‘You’ve got two minutes?’”
“Geezer,” Harr replied in a controlled tone, “this really isn’t the time.”
“Of course it isn’t. When you’re the one needing something, then it’s all ‘jump and run’, but when a subordinate is in a hurry because he’s made an unfortunate bet at the craps table on Soober-7 and he’s in desperate need of that annual bonus because a certain mob boss has threatened to take away his favorite transistor and snip a couple of much needed wires, things can slow down to a snail’s pace.”
Harr’s hands were starting to tire from gripping the edge of the armrests. Being unable to see much beyond the glow of the monitors made it even more trying to hold on when the ship rocked back and forth. If they did make it out of this alive, he was going to have to invest in some upgrades on his damn chair, and probably in better shields for the ship, too.
“Five percent,” Jezden announced.
“Geezer,” Harr barked, “I don’t know where this is coming from, but if you don’t give me the ability to steer this ship in whatever fashion I choose to within the next thirty seconds, you’ll not live to worry about your annual bonus.”
“Oh? Well, why didn’t you say so, big cat? It’s ready to go.”
“Huh?”
“Do whatever you want with the engines,” Geezer said. “They’re ready.”
“That fast?”
“I’m a robot, honcho. Multitasking is my middle name.”
“According to your file,” Sandoo said, “your middle name is Irving.”
“That was supposed to be classified!”
“Can we get back to the problem at hand, please?” Harr yelled.
“Like I said, prime, I’ve already rigged up the engines and even had time to make a nice oil smoothie.”
“That’s swell,” Harr replied, “but what are we supposed to do with the engines?”
“I thought you captains were supposed to know all this junk?” Geezer said after a moment. “Honestly amazes me how you rise up in rank the way you do. Just give it to one of the androids to manage it—except maybe Jezden, he’ll just try to hump it.”
Jezden said, “What?”
“Middleton,” Harr commanded, “if I recall correctly, your record said that you were a hotshot on the race track back in Segnal.”
“I didn’t do too badly,” Middleton replied. “Won my fair share, sir.”
“Good. Take the controls and do whatever you have to in order to get us out of this mess.”
“Roger that, sir. You all may want to hold on tight.”
An instant later, the Reluctant whined and groaned as Middleton put her through the paces. Harr’s stomach felt each drop, rise, twist, and turn as the ensign dodged missiles and laser fire. It didn’t take long before the enemy could be seen on the main screen. Somehow Middleton had managed to do his own version of the Alpha-Theta-3-1-Switch.
“Can anyone target those ships?” Harr asked while fighting to keep his lunch down.
“Trying, sir,” said Curr.
“I’ve got one of the smaller ones in my sights,” announced Ridly. “Firing!” The beautiful vision of exploding metal filled the monitor as Ridly pumped her fist and said, “Yes!”
“Everyone target and fire at will,” Harr commanded. “Geezer, take this time to get the GONE drive working.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.”
From there all hell broke loose. Lasers and missiles were being launched from the Reluctant left and right. The enemy was now on their heels, using evasive maneuvers as they were systematically hunted down and destroyed.
The lights came back on, shocking Harr’s eyes and causing him to squint.
“Did we get them all?”
“No, thir,” said Moon. “There are still a few more closing in.”
“Two missiles incoming,” Jezden said. “We’re goners.”
“Geezer?”
“Ready, honcho. Where to?”
“Away from here.”
“Got any suggestions?”
“Now!”
“Fine!”
MEET THE NEW BOSS
Harr kept his eyes shut as the warm embrace of s
ilence filled the air. No more explosions, no more rocking, no more thoughts of Oh no, we’re all gonna die! Harr didn’t know where they’d ended up, but with any luck it was better than the imminent destruction they had just escaped.
He pried his fingers from the armrest and began working them back into shape.
“Sir?”
“Give me a minute, Commander,” Harr answered.
“I really think you should take a look at this, sir.”
Harr sighed. Couldn’t he have just a minute to recuperate? Just because they were androids didn’t mean he was. They could process things in a split second and shut off their emotions even faster. Harr couldn’t. He needed time to process and to calm down.
“Seriously, sir.”
“Are we being shot at again, Commander?” Harr asked while rubbing his eyes.
“Well, no.”
“Is there a giant space turtle about to mount our great ship?” he asked. It had happened before, after all.
“Not that I’m aware of, sir.”
“Nope,” ensign Curr said. “Just confirmed that there is no turtle humping us, sir.”
“Has the self-destruct sequence on the Reluctant been activated and is just in a silent countdown?”
“I hope not,” Sandoo said uncertainly.
“Then, what is so—” Harr opened his eyes and peered at the main view-screen to find that the ship was currently sitting inside of a massive containment system. It appeared similar to the old Segnal Outpost that housed half the SSMC fleet, only this one was easily ten times larger. “Where the hell are we?”
“It looks like a monster-sized landing bay, sir,” suggested Middleton.
“Right.”
Everyone moved to the screen and began looking around. The walls went up so far that they became so dim that the eye couldn’t catch sight of the ceiling. He could tell that it was a circular building due to the slight angling of the walls all around. Looking down was a similar visual. The ship was being suspended in the middle of this monstrosity. What Harr didn’t understand was how. He didn’t see any beings in the gigantic room, nor were there other ships. At least nothing like the Reluctant.
A gentle cough sounded from behind them and they all spun back to see a middle-aged man with curly brown hair leaning against the back wall. He was roughly Harr’s height and build, but his face didn’t share Harr’s superhero qualities. If anything, this guy’s face was too lean to match his body. His eyes were definitely larger than what Harr would consider normal.
“Who the hell are you?” Harr asked, taking a step forward. “And how the hell did you get on my ship?”
“My name is Frexle,” the man replied, “and I’m sorry to inform you that the SSMC Reluctant is not really your ship any longer, Captain Harr.”
Sandoo reached for his sidearm, but Harr put out his hand to stop the android. If this Frexle character had the ability to transport sight unseen onto Harr’s ship, it wasn’t likely that a simple beam of energy would take him out. For all Harr knew, Frexle wasn’t even physically aboard. It could just be a projection that they were seeing.
“A wise decision to stop good-old Commander Sandoo,” Frexle said, clearly having more intel on the Platoon F crew than the Platoon F crew had on Frexle. “I would have hated to destroy you all on your first day under my employ.”
“Wait, did you say that we’re under your employ?”
“Correct, Captain,” Frexle said with a tight smile. “You have come under the watchful eye of the Overseers. That’s not a good thing, I assure you. Normally it results in immediate death, but we have a bit of a proposition that we thought you might like to hear.”
“Propositions tend to put us in harm’s way, Fractal.”
“Frexle.”
Harr ignored the correction. “We have a tendency of getting proposals that threaten to get us killed. Happens all the time.”
“I see,” Frexle said as he studied his fingernails. “Well, you can certainly bypass the proposition phase and just meet your demise immediately. Your choice, of course.”
“I’m listening,” Harr said with a sigh.
Frexle pushed off the back wall and walked awkwardly to Harr’s chair. He sat down in it and crossed the thinnest set of legs Harr had ever seen. Frexle’s feet were enormous, but the toothpicks that they were attached to couldn’t have contained an ounce of fat.
“Captain, we have been on the lookout for a resourceful group that can take care of certain…items for us.”
“What kind of items?”
“Oh,” Frexle said, waving his arms, “just your basic things. Espionage, theft, assassinations, and other odd jobs.”
“We’re not killers.”
“Kill or be killed, Captain, as the saying goes.”
“Right,” said Harr, weighing things. “Who are we killing, again?”
“If you’re clever enough, possibly nobody.” Frexle uncrossed his legs and then crossed them the other way. “But you must be willing to kill in the event that it becomes necessary.”
“I see,” Harr said, trying to buy time. If there was a way out of this, he’d have to find it fast. “Uh…who are these Overseers anyway?”
“We are the supreme intellect in the known universe.”
“So there may be a smarter group in the unknown universe?” asked Harr.
“That’s unknown.”
“Right.”
“Essentially, we are a collection of intelligent beings from various races and worlds that were hand-picked by the reigning Lord Overseer, Veli.”
“And who is he, or is it a she?”
“Based on the timbre of voice,” Frexle said as he wiggled his foot around, “I’d go with he, but I’ve never seen him. He sits in the shadows.”
“Why?”
“Likely doesn’t want his face to be known, but you’ll find that a lot of species have their own set of peculiar quirks, so one can never be certain of their true motivations.”
“Yes,” Harr said with a nod, “I’ve learned that over the last couple of years. Anyway, if you guys are so smart, what do you need with us?”
“I’ve told you already, Captain.”
“I’d like to understand the deeper meaning, Freckles.”
“Frexle.”
“You claim to be the most intelligent race in the universe, so why can’t you take care of your own problems?”
“Okay, Captain,” Frexle said with a look of surprise, “I guess the best way to answer that is to explain that when you’ve attained the level of greatness that we have, it’s very easy to merely smite those deemed lesser if they get out of hand.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“How best to make this clear? Ah, yes. What’s the main thing a person does when they get to the top of an organization?”
“Crap on everyone under them?” answered Harr.
“Fair enough,” Frexle said with a nod. “What’s another thing they do?”
“Start making insane rules?” suggested Middleton.
“Got me there, too,” admitted Frexle. “The next thing, then?”
Curr raised his hand and said, “Change the direction of the organization toward a strategy previously employed while imagining—wrongly, by the way—that said strategy will suddenly work because they are in charge.”
“Actually,” Frexle said with a purse of his lips, “that happens also.” He pushed himself up off the chair and somehow stayed balanced on those spindly legs. “Maybe I’ll save us some time and just get to the point. What the aforementioned person does, folks, is fight to keep the position that they were finally able to attain.”
“So you’re saying that the Overseers spend the majority of their time looking for civilizations that could possibly usurp them?”
“Not all of us, Captain Harr,” Frexle replied, “but there is a division that is specifically assigned this task. Its job is to find potential threats, and then destroy them.”
“What kind of threats are we
talking here?” Harr asked.
“Any technological development that we feel may lead to advancements capable of challenging our level of sophistication.”
“Sounds like you’re talking about a Tower of Yebble,” Harr noted.
“Sorry?”
“It’s an old Segnalian story about how everyone got to building up this tower to reach the heavens. The gods didn’t like it and thought that their creation was getting too powerful, so they spread the people out and changed their languages in an effort to slow them down.”
“Interesting,” Frexle said. “Did it work?”
“I doubt it’s even true,” Harr answered with a shrug. “But eventually Segnal ended up building rails that leave the planet and connected them to hubs and other planets along the way, so if the tower story is true, I’d wager that the splitting up of people ultimately failed.”
“I see.”
“What are some examples of technology that you kill people for?” Geezer asked through the comm.
“Ah,” Frexle said with a grin as he pointed to the console on Harr’s chair, “that’s the robot, yes?” Harr nodded. “Well, let’s see. A few examples would be faster-than-light travel, advanced computer systems, ability to control gravity, time travel, and fire.”
“Fire?”
“Not creating it, Captain,” Frexle said, “but rather, its discovery.”
“As in rubbing sticks together?”
“Correct.”
“How do you make the leap from discovering fire to challenging you for the top spot in the universe?”
Frexle pulled up his sleeve and tapped on his arm. An instant later, an image appeared on the Reluctant’s main monitor. The visual showed a massive map of stars in one quadrant, a threat-level indicator in another, statistical analysis in another, and a series of graphs in the last one.
“This is a program written by the Lord Overseer. Its job is to take data from each culture on any given planet—everything from what they eat to where they shop, assuming they have evolved to the point of having places to shop—and extrapolate over the expected lifetime of the species how far they will grow. If the data suggests that they will expand to the point of being able to challenge us, we destroy them.”
Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2) Page 2