“You gotta realize that our ship has a few of those things you described,” admitted Geezer. “Time travel, instant travel, and cloaking, at least.”
“We are aware,” said Frexle, “and typically having these items would result in your immediate destruction, but we’re offering you a way to avoid that outcome.”
“Wait a second here,” Harr said, feeling worried. “You know about our particular advancements, but those are unique to us. Segnal doesn’t have this level…”
“Since you’ve left, there’s no reason to touch Segnal, Captain,” Frexle said soothingly. “Our calculations show that you were an anomaly. Your world isn’t likely to ever grow to anything useful. There was one piece of data that suggested Segnal would eventually be overrun by androids and then become a threat, but that somehow got removed from the timeline.”
“Is that so?” Harr said with a cough as he glanced over at Sandoo and shook his head. “Well, it seems you know a lot about us.”
“As I said, Captain, we are the smartest race in the universe. We can see without being seen.”
“Can you explain how you manage to do that?”
“Sure can’t.”
“Right,” Harr said, not really expecting the answer anyway. “So you have all this capability and even a program that tells you who will potentially grow to be a threat, and yet you still haven’t figured out a way to manage this little problem of yours?”
“Ah, but I have, Captain. I’ve found the SSMC Reluctant.” Frexle smiled proudly. “So, will you take the job?”
“It’s not like we have much of a choice, Frexle.”
“Frexle.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Oh, yes, you did that time, didn’t you?” Frexle blinked a few times. “Yes or no, Captain. Are you taking the job or not?”
“Again, what choice do we have?”
“So it’s a yes, then?”
“Obviously it’s a yes, you idiot,” Jezden chimed in.
“Settle down, ensign,” Harr said warningly.
Frexle stared over at Jezden for a few moments before saying, “Good.”
“So what does this mean?” asked Harr.
“Training will begin soon,” Frexle answered. “Be prepared.” He paused and added, “Oh, and do note that we have installed a tracking device on your ship, so please don’t get any ideas regarding escape. We will find you and the Overseers are not known for being forgiving.”
And with that, he disappeared into the ether.
THAT WAS ODD
Did anyone else find that odd?” Harr asked as he thought things through. He looked up to see staring faces. “I mean, I know it’s odd that some random person just showed up on the ship, and I know it’s odd that we’re in the hull of some massive hangar, and also that we’ve just been conscripted into service when we all thought for certain that we were finally free from that.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m talking about is the absurdity that this supposedly uber-intelligent race needs us.”
The Reluctant was still suffering from the beating she’d taken. Even though she was resting inside of the Overseer’s landing bay, Harr could hear her distant groans. The ship wasn’t sentient, of course, but as her captain, Harr felt what she felt. He had to. If he didn’t, how could he properly guide her through the most challenging situations? Some captains claimed that when all was said and done, it was love that kept a ship going. Ensign Jezden would have said that was gay, but Harr couldn’t help but think that all those captains were right.
“Thir,” Lieutenant Moon said after a few moments, “it seems to me that we don’t have enough information about these people to know if it’s strange or not.”
Harr sat down in his chair and scratched his cheek. “We know that they consider themselves to be pretty smart,” he said. “We know that they have the ability to transport onto our ship at will. We know…” He paused as a thought hit him. “Geezer, did you set the coordinates to this location when you activated the GONE drive?”
“Actually, chief, I don’t even know where here is exactly. We’re off the charts. I was trying to get us close to Fantasy Planet, thinking we could all do with a little R and R after that battle and all.”
“Then, the GONE drive is malfunctioning?”
“Not as far as I can tell,” Geezer answered, “but I’m not exactly an expert.”
“You invented the damn thing, Geezer!”
“Through happenstance, honcho,” Geezer corrected. “I just plug stuff in and stick wires here and there, and then I get lucky. You know that. I mean, sure, I can hook up thrusters and such like it’s nobody’s business, but time-travel devices, cloaking technology, and the GONE drive? Nah, that was pure luck.”
“Wonderful.”
“Crap,” Geezer suddenly said. “I forgot I was on speaker.”
“So?” Harr replied.
“So the entire crew just heard that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. Ah well, so much for them idolizing me.”
“I don’t think that was ever an issue,” Harr said apologetically.
“Sir,” Sandoo chimed in before Geezer could respond, “my guess is that these Overseers must have rescued us from that battle.”
As if on cue, one of the panels erupted in flames. Curr and Middleton struggled to snuff it out. Harr glanced around again and decided that he would have to get Frexle to fix up his ship, or give him and the Platoon F crew enough time to manage it themselves. Chances are they’d be doing it themselves.
“Or, Commander,” Harr said seriously, “they were the ones who set up the battle in the first place.”
“Why would they do that?”
Jezden grunted and said, “Probably to make sure we had the skill to fight.”
“Agreed,” Harr said. “And those ships did come out of nowhere.”
“And they didn’t even try to communicate with us,” Moon stated.
“There was no backup, either,” Curr noted as he sat back down. “No mother ship or anything.”
“We don’t have any mother ships on Segnal,” Middleton pointed out, “so that’s not much of an argument.”
“Just because we don’t doesn’t mean that other worlds don’t, Middleton.”
“But you don’t know if they do or not, Curr, which means you’re just adding in nonsensical data to confuse the situation.”
“How about if I stuff some nonsensical data up your—”
“Okay, you two,” Harr said, raising his voice, “enough chatter. The point is that these guys obviously need us, and that makes me wonder how truly smart they are.”
“Seeing that they overrode the GONE drive,” Geezer said through the comm, “I’d say they’re not idiots.”
“Fair point.”
“Sir,” Sandoo said, “shouldn’t we be focused on how to get out of this mess?”
“That’s precisely what I’m doing, Commander. ‘Know thy enemy,’ as it were.”
“Ah, yes. Well, in that case, Frexle did say we were going to be put through training. Maybe we can glean information about how they work then.”
“Good thinking, Commander,” Harr said. “Until then, let’s get the Reluctant back in top shape. I have a feeling that Frexle’s not going to lend us much help there.”
BOOT CAMP
It wasn’t even two hours after the ship was back in shape before Frexle had delivered the entirety of Platoon F, including a very disgruntled Geezer—who had to bring a rolling tray with his battery affixed—to a planet called Sadian.
They were standing out in the desert in the middle of a compound that Harr could only assume served as a boot camp station.
As far as planets went, Sadian was like every other inhabitable planet he’d seen. Sky, dirt, wind, clouds, and while he couldn’t see any, Harr was certain there were trees and areas of water somewhere in the distance.
Standing in front of him was a squat man who was built like a tank. He couldn’t have been more than f
our feet tall. Sadian seemingly produced rather small humanoids, based on those present on the compound. Of course, it could just be that their military consisted of smaller races. That seemed out of place to Harr, but so did standing in the middle of a strange planet while getting ready to face yet another damn boot camp.
“My name is Drill Sergeant Razzin,” the little drill instructor screamed in a controlled fashion, “and I have to say that you are the worst looking set of recruits I have ever seen. You are an embarrassment to this base and to the uniforms that you are wearing.” Harr glanced around and noted that everyone still donned their standard-issue Segnal Space Marine Corps outfits. To be fair, even though the little soldier didn’t know, Platoon F probably would be considered an embarrassment to the SSMC. “By hell,” Razzin said, “there ain’t a one of you under five feet tall! It’s an atrocity. Makes a soldier wonder why they even let you land at this base.” He paused and then pointed at the soldier next to him. “This is Corporal Woor, our regulations officer.”
Razzin then motioned Woor forward. Woor was similar in size to Razzin, but he was not gruff-looking at all. In fact, he seemed rather pleasant.
“Regulation 7124B,” Woor said in a complimentary tone of voice, “requires that I inform you that we actually think you all have super potential in your own way, and we can tell just by looking at you that you’re all very nice people.”
Razzin craned his head from side to side, clearly irritated that Woor was a part of this event. He then took a few steps forward and started sizing everyone up. There was something about a drill instructor that made a person uncomfortable, even if the top of said instructor’s head only came up to your chest.
After walking up and down the line a few times, he stopped in front of Sandoo. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Sandoo, Kip, sir!”
“And what do those stripes on your uniform set your rank as, Sandoo?”
“Commander, sir!”
“You don’t look like you could command your way out of a latrine, Sandoo.”
“No, sir!”
Razzin grunted and moved along to Lieutenant Moon.
Woor quickly stepped up to Sandoo and said, “As per regulation 1139, Commander Sandoo, it is my duty to inform you that we’re positive you could manage your way successfully out of the most complicated of latrines.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Razzin sighed heavily and glanced up at Moon. “What’s your name?”
“Moon, Hank, thir! I’m a Lieutenant, thir!”
“I don’t even know what a Lootantent is,” Razzin said while pointing firmly at Moon, “but I’m assuming it’s the lowest possible rank in your pathetic military because, by god, if it’s not I will need to put serious thought as to how your world functions.”
“Is that a sexist statement, thir?” Moon asked, almost threateningly.
“Of course it’s a sexist statement, Moon,” Razzin replied unfazed. “Everyone knows that this is a man’s army, and you certainly do not look to be playing the part of a man.”
“But I am a man, thir!”
“If you are a man, Moon, then I am a goddamn Farnoq beast.”
“My body is female, thir, but my mind is all male.”
Razzin stood there, dumbfounded. “I honestly don’t even know what to say to that, Moon.”
Woor, however, did. “Hello, Lootantent Moon—I hope I got that right. Well, according to regulation 6624C, we, in the Sadian military, think it’s wonderful that you have volunteered to serve. We respect your choice to live as a man in a woman’s body. Also, according to rider 1409 of the Right to Equal Service Act, we are pleased to extend a welcoming hand to all races, creeds, sexual preferences, and genders to the Sadian military. Except tallies…until now, apparently.”
“Sorry, thir,” Moon said. “Tallies?”
“Tall people,” Woor answered with an apologetic smile.
“Oh,” Moon said, and then asked, “Are there actually any females in the military? I don’t see any.”
“None, yet,” admitted Woor, “though we have been trying for the past few years to get at least one of them to join up. It turns out that Sadian women find the concept of the Sadian military to be silly.”
By now Razzin was standing in front of Harr. “And what’s your story? You look like a damn superhero with that ridiculous chin of yours.” Razzin moved his head this way and that, squinting up as if studying. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d wager that you had some kind of physical alterations done, son. Then again, looking at your Lootantent Moon over here, who knows what in blazes happens on your backward planet.”
“Harr, Don, Captain of the SSMC Reluctant…sir.”
“So, you’re this group’s leader, eh?” Harr kept his eyes straight ahead. “You must think you’re some kind of hotshot, then.”
“I’m a captain by vote, sir. We are no longer part of the Segnal military.”
“That’s right, you’re not,” Razzin affirmed tightly. “You’re now part of the Sadian military, and that means—” Another Sadian soldier shuffled up and whispered into Razzin’s ear. “Oh, right, I mean that you’re now a part of the Overseer’s Special Forces group.” He stopped and turned back to the soldier. “They have special ops now?” More whispering. “Huh, well, okay, then. That changes things a bit.” The whispering soldier scuttled away and Razzin turned back to face Harr. “I’m assuming you’ve already had basic training on this planet of yours?”
“We have.”
“We have, sir.”
Harr fought to maintain his composure. “We have, sir.”
“So you know hand-to-hand combat already?”
“We were trained in hand-to-hand combat, sir.”
“I’ll bet you think you could take me in a fight, don’t you, Captain? You’re all tall and big and have a swagger about you. No doubt you think that we’re just wee folk who couldn’t handle someone of your size. Isn’t that right, Harr?”
“Probably, sir.”
“Well, I’ll make a little deal with you, then,” Razzin stated with a poke to Harr’s chest. “If you or any of your soldiers can take me in the ring, I’ll go easy on you. Hell, I’ll even respect your previous training and move you right past the physical and on to the clerical. If you lose, though, you’ll be going through boot camp all over again, Sadian style.”
“You’ll fight any of us?” Harr asked, purposefully leaving off the “sir.”
“Actually, I’ll fight all of you—one after the other, Captain. You’ll find that I’m a tireless fighter.”
“Excellent,” said Harr, making eye contact. “When do we start?”
THE FIGHT
The walk across the compound brought smells of freshly baked bread, something that simultaneously seemed odd to Harr and caused him to feel hungry. He’d not had a decent meal in quite a while. Protein bars were somewhat tasty, but a home-cooked meal was a distant memory. The very fact that he just had cravings for boot camp food was a testament to the fact that protein bars can only take the palate so far.
Geezer was getting a stern talking to by one of the secondary drill instructors the entire way.
“Move your feet, mister!”
“I’m trying, buddy.”
“Don’t you call me that, soldier. I’m a sir to you.”
“Sorry, pal. Still getting used to all of this.”
“Sorry, sir!”
“It’s okay,” Geezer replied. “I know you’re just doing your job.”
“What? No, I mean you are to call me sir, like I said before.”
“Oh, right. Gotcha. It’s just not in my programming to do that. Hard thing to change…uh…sir.”
Harr sniffed as a small smile crept to his lips. That turned into a full-on grin when Woor spoke next.
“You’re doing wonderfully, soldier,” he said to Geezer. “In fact, according to regulation 4535, you may even receive an award for effort.”
“No foolin’?” said Geezer.
&n
bsp; “No fooling, soldier. We, in the Sadian military, believe that everyone deserves to win, regardless of their skill level. It’s called a participation medal. There are many of them.”
“Come on,” Geezer said. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“We in the Sadian military make every effort to not defecate on anyone, soldier,” Woor said seriously, “though regulation 9883, subsection 73-A does allow for it in the event that a particular soldier suffers from incontinence. I, however, do not suffer from said condition, which therefore means that I am in no way shitting you.”
They approached a tent that sat just beyond the main barracks. Tension wires held down the green tarp edges by connecting to rings of metal that stuck out of the ground. Everyone had to duck in order to get inside. Everyone except for the Sadians, of course.
Once inside, Harr noticed the familiar image of a boxing ring. It was nearly identical to the ones on Segnal. Three ropes wrapped around a square platform with steps going up on opposing corners. A small table with three chairs sat on the side. It contained a little bell that Harr guessed was used to begin a round. There was even a microphone dangling from a cord that was affixed to the apex of the tent. The only difference that Harr could make out was the size of the ring. It was about half of what Harr was used to seeing. Then again, so were the Sadians.
“Okay,” said Razzin, puffing his chest out, “who wants to fight me first?”
“I will,” Harr replied, anxious to knock the little twerp into next week.
“Good,” Razzin said with a sneer. Then he clapped his hands and yelled, “We’ve got a fight on!”
A loud bell rang across the compound and within minutes the room was awash with Sadian soldiers. Some were climbing up into the bleachers, hunting for a good seat. Others ran from station to station, putting on vendor outfits, heating up popcorn and hot dogs, and even offering up what appeared to be posters and T-shirts of Razzin. Clearly, the man had a reputation. Maybe there was something to the fellow that Harr had underestimated.
A Sadian with a snarly grimace started tugging Harr by the arm, doing his best to drag the captain to the challenger’s corner. His one eye was squinting and he held a pipe in his teeth. The set of rough whiskers that adorned his chin served to give him that rugged appearance of a man who’d seen action.
Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2) Page 3