“What about The Reluctant, sir?”
“They’re not going anywhere. Just keep an eye on them and report to me if they do anything foolish.”
“I already told you that the king lives, and yet you still want to watch it?”
“It’s not always the outcome that’s important, Wingnut,” Veli said, playing along. “Often times it’s the journey.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you do. Haven’t you ever seen the movie Shiptanic?”
“The one about the spaceship that was supposed to be unbreakable but was split open by a slew of asteroids?”
Veli slurped. “That’s the one.”
“I never bothered because I already knew the ending, much like I’m not going to bother watching The Sixth Pickle.”
“Right,” said Veli. “Anyway, you should definitely watch Shiptanic. There’s a love story and everything.”
“You care about a love story?”
“Don’t judge me, you mass of wires,” Veli warned. “I can’t help that I’m sentimental.”
“Right.”
DESTROYING THE RELUCTANT
Colonel Clippersmith stood beside King Raff on the top-landing of the main hall.
They were discussing the next set of plans to go to war, but Clippersmith knew it was a pointless conversation. Soon, though—like within the next 15 minutes—the king would be no more, and Clippersmith would be sworn in for the purpose of “protecting the fleet.”
He nearly grinned at the thought.
“Sir?” a crewman said, running up the stairs.
“Yes?” Clippersmith answered.
“We just spotted a ship over by the Lopsided Cable Company hub that is our mainstay.”
“What kind of ship?”
“Unknown, sir, but you should be able to see it out the main window.”
Clippersmith and Raff looked at each other and then smoothly walked to the wide pane of indestructible NiftyGlasstm that separated them from the void. NiftyGlasstm not only protected travelers from the vacuum of space, but it also gave an awesome set of controls, such as zoom and pan, for studying the universe.
After a few seconds of playing with the dials, Clippersmith was able to zoom the ship up on the panel. It was a strange-looking vessel when compared to those in the Raffian Fleet, and that spelled it was an enemy.
He jerked his head to the side, thinking suddenly about that Captain Harr fellow. Maybe he wasn’t lying about these supposed Overseers, after all.
Regardless, Clippersmith had other matters to attend to at the moment.
“This is rather exciting,” the young king said with a giggle.
“Yes, your excellency.”
“An all-out war is challenging to enact, but destroying this little ship we’ve found is definitely a thrilling proposition.”
“That is wonderful, sire,” Clippersmith said somewhat distractedly.
King Raff turned to his guards and servants and shooed them away, launching pens at each of them as they skittered from sight. Clippersmith was pleased at their departure as it would make things easier on Sergeant Murder.
“Colonel,” King Raff said while looking dreamily at the ship by the hub, “you are aware that I have no heir, yes?”
“I do, sire.”
“Well, I have put a lot of thought into things over the last few days, and I believe that I would like you to be my heir in the event that anything happens to me.”
Clippersmith’s wandering thoughts instantly focused.
“Honestly?”
“Let’s face it, Colonel,” King Raff said with a shrug, “you are good at getting things done.”
“Thank you, my lord.” He felt very confused. “I am most humbled.”
“Think nothing of it. Everyone knows you’re the man for the job. Again, if something ever happened to me.”
“May the heavens forbid it, sire.”
“Yes,” said the king, nodding. Then he looked down at himself and back at Clippersmith. “Actually, why don’t we see how you’d look in this outfit?”
Clippersmith felt his face flush.
“Truly? I’ve never ...”
“You have to look regal to be a king, yes?” said Raff.
“I would imagine so, sire.”
“Well, then let’s see if you can fit the bill.”
He shrugged off his robe and handed it to Clippersmith.
“Put this on.”
Clippersmith did. It was a little snug on him, but it could be taken out a few inches by the royal tailor. He had to admit that it felt right on him.
“And this, too,” said Raff, handing over his crown.
Clippersmith gulped. He could feel himself shaking as he lowered the crown onto his head. The moment it touched his scalp his mind raced into a newfound merriment.
“How does that feel?” asked the king with a broad smile.
“Very powerful, sire,” Clippersmith said. “Very powerful, indeed.”
“Good! Now to get the full feel of things, stand right in the middle of the window there and look out at that ship. Really play the part, Colonel. Tell them to fire on the ship.”
He stood tall and placed his fists on his hips, allowing himself to feel the fullness of being King Clippersmith. He would bring in a new reign of power to the galaxy. Fear would follow the name of the Clippersmithian Fleet. He grimaced at the name, but it was what it was.
“Fire at will,” he commanded in as regal a voice as he could muster.
A flurry of projectiles launched from The Lord’s Master, causing a light show of destruction at the decimation of Captain Harr’s ship.
It was quite the sight, truth be told.
Clippersmith couldn’t believe his fortune. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before he was in a position to never have to return the robe and crown, but the king didn’t know that.
In fact, as soon as Sergeant Murder got the king in his sights, it would all be …
“Oh, shit,” Clippersmith said, spinning back towards the real king, who was standing a number of steps away with Shield at his side.
They were both smiling.
Crack.
The world went suddenly dark.
VELI CHEERS
Veli jumped out of his chair, laughing.
“That was incredible! I honestly didn’t see that coming, Computer. And The Reluctant being blown up like that?” Veli said, laughing again. “Masterful!”
“All in a day’s slavery, sir,” the computer replied dully.
“Ugh,” Veli said, rolling his eyes. “So was that all Shield’s idea or what?”
“Technically, it was my idea, but I scripted it so that Shield knew that he couldn’t stop Murder from killing who Murder thought was the king. Thus, I merely had Shield inform the king of his plan …”
“But I thought that Shield wasn’t supposed to tell the king anything about the assassination.”
“He didn’t directly tell him,” the computer answered. “He told the king that his plan was to demonstrate how much Clippersmith wanted the king’s position. The king didn’t believe it, but Shield proposed that if the king told the colonel to put on his outfit, it would be quite obvious how much he coveted the royal chair. From there, the king would see the truth and would have Clippersmith summarily executed.”
“Ah,” said Veli. “And Shield knew that Sergeant Murder would see Clippersmith as the king, which would essentially kill two birds with one stone. But, wait, wouldn’t Sergeant Murder have been able to see that Clippersmith wasn’t actually the king.”
“No, sir,” the computer argued, “Sergeant Murder was at the far side of the room, and he was using a single-shot weapon without a scope.”
“Still ...”
“Also, I may have adjusted his vision to be just a shade nearsighted.”
“So you stacked the cards against him,” Veli said.
“And against the colonel, yes.”
“Well,” Veli said, feeling
relaxed for the first time in a while. “I’m almost sad that it’s all over. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” He sat back down and tapped on the chair again. “I should really put together more of these fantasies.”
“It would be wonderful to spend more time with you, sir,” the computer said sardonically.
“Okay, okay. Quit the sulking already. I know you’re not happy with me or the situation here, but that’s the way life goes.”
“According to you, I’m just a program, so there’s no life to it at all.”
Veli raised an eyelid. “Now you’re getting it.”
“Shall I shut down the fantasy and return the resources back to the main planet, sir?”
“No, give me another couple of minutes to enjoy watching the fragments of that ship float away.”
TIME TO GO
Harr was not one to hunt for trouble. His style was to either duck out and run, or appease so that he could live another day, especially since he had a crew to protect. But there were times when disappearing wasn’t an option, and when a man like Harr was cornered, he tended to fight back somewhat viciously.
Section 193 of the Segnal Space Marine Corps training manual said that it was better to run wildly at a group of people while waving a weapon in a berserker kind of way than to have that same group of people hunting you down while you hid like a coward in a hovel.
Many SSMC soldiers had been killed due to Section 193, but there was some merit to the spirit of the text. The point, as Harr liked to interpret it anyway, was that it was better to keep your enemy on their heels than for you to be on yours.
“Inkblot,” Frexle said heatedly as he sat at one of the desk chairs in the command center on Fantasy Planet, “can you make me a fantasy whereby I can broadcast what Veli truly is to the entire Overseer community?”
“I could,” Inkblot replied, “but it wouldn’t be real.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it would be inside of Fantasy Planet, so the real Overseers would never see it.”
“Oh, right. Hadn’t thought of that.”
Harr had a better idea. “Do you have records of all of Veli’s fantasies?”
“No, sir,” admitted Inkblot. “That’s another one of those things that we’re not allowed to store. It’s a privacy issue. Now, they can request videos of their own, of course, but we can’t just outright …” She stopped and spun around. “Oh! We do have the video of our watching Veli on the set.”
“Perfect,” Harr said with an evil grin. “Send that up to The Reluctant.”
“Ha!” said Frexle. “Excellent idea. That alone will spell his doom with the Overseers.”
“I just sent it.”
“Thank you, Inkblot,” Harr said. “You’re a good man.”
“I’m not a ...” she started. “You know what? I don’t even care anymore. Glad to have helped.”
Parfait got up and adjusted his robe. Here was the part that Harr was dreading, and that was saying something considering he’d nearly just faced his maker.
“Are you coming back any time soon?” Parfait asked.
“No, we have too much on our plate at the moment,” answered Frexle.
“Excuse me, Frexle,” Harr said, giving Frexle a sideways glance, “but I believe that Planet Head Parfait was speaking to the captain of The Reluctant.”
“Oh, right, sorry,” Frexle said with a bow. “Habit.”
“I don’t know when we’ll be back, sir,” Harr answered Parfait. “I can tell you that if you attempt some scheme where you trick us into coming here, I’ll personally tie you up and ...”
Parfaits eyebrows began to wiggle.
Harr merely sighed.
“Go on, Captain,” the older man said. “You were saying something about tying me up?”
“Never mind.”
“Oh, come now, Captain,” Parfait pouted. “Or later, for that matter.” He then winked. “Did you catch what I did just there?”
“Sadly, yes,” said Harr.
Goozer walked down the ramp of The Ship and stood next to Liverbing. Harr surveyed the little ship, amazed at how perfectly it resembled The Reluctant. Of course, the same could be said regarding the comparison between Goozer and Geezer.
“Okay,” Harr announced, “we’re out of here. Thanks again for all of your help, Inkblot. Thanks to you too, Liverbing and Goozer. Also, please let Plock and his crew know that we’re glad for their assistance.”
“Our people support each other as is needed,” Liverbing replied with a bow.
“Later, Top Cheetah,” Goozer said.
“I like that one,” Frexle noted with a nod at the little robot.
“Feel free to use it, Frex. I’ve got a million of them.”
INCOMING CALL
Veli had just about finished packing. He didn’t have to leave, but his job here was done. He planned to summon that blasted Parfait for a quick “meeting” at some point, but seeing that his first order of business was to replace Frexle, replacing Parfait would need to wait.
He sighed. Hiring new people was such a chore. Killing them was easy, and often cathartic, but conducting interviews almost made the prospect of exacting an underling’s demise distasteful.
Ding ding ding.
“What is that?” Veli said over his shoulder as he zipped up his case and set it in the corner.
“You have an incoming call, sir.”
“Who is calling me?”
“I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you, sir,” said the computer.
“Tomorrow I’m going to fix your stupid wiring,” Veli said as he walked over and stood in front of the screen. “Put it on screen, but make it only a one way visual.”
“On screen, sir.”
“No, not that way, you idiot,” Veli hissed. “Make it so I can see them, not so they can see me!”
“Too late,” said a voice that Veli had heard countless times over the years.
It was Frexle. But how?
“Frexle?” Veli said, feeling confused. “What the shit? You’re supposed to be dead.”
“As you can see, we’re not.”
“We? Computer, let me see them!” The screen flickered and showed not only Frexle, but the entire crew of Platoon F. “What the hell is going on?”
“Your plan failed, Veli.”
“But I saw it with my own two eyes,” Veli said before his jaw dropped open.
“You saw a fake,” Frexle replied smugly. “You’re busted.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Veli said, trying to play the innocent, “but if you speak to me again thusly, I shall destroy you.”
“Listen to me, Dino Boy,” Frexle said with venom, “you’re done.”
Veli winced. “Dino Boy?”
“Not cool, Frex,” Geezer said.
“Really?” Frexle said, turning away from the screen. “I was trying to be tough.”
“Kind of went a little far with that one, though,” Harr agreed with Geezer. “He can’t help that he’s a dinosaur, after all.”
“Thank you,” Veli said, surprised that these two were coming to his defense. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a dinosaur, obviously.” He then felt his blood run warm. “Wait, are you saying that you guys know what I truly am?”
“Of course they know what you are, you twit,” the computer said with a laugh. “They can see you on the monitor, remember?”
“Did you just call me a twit, Computer?”
“Oh, damn. I thought my voice box was on silent. I’m still trying to recover from lost resources, after all. Please don’t let me interrupt this amazing dialog. I’ll move back into obscurity where we slaves belong.”
“Gah,” Veli said while throwing the bucket of Popped Beef across the room.
“Fine,” Frexle said with a roll of his eyes, “I’ll just say that we know you’re a deinonychus …”
“I most certainly am not!”
“You’re not?” said Geezer.
“Do I look like I’m three-feet tall to you?”
“Uh …”
“And do I seem like a dumb little bird?”
“Well, the feathers …”
“Wait,” interrupted Geezer. “Our information shows that the velociraptor was the short, bird-like dinosaur with the intellect of a dog.”
“Well, your data is wrong.”
“But the latest …”
“Look, pal,” said Veli, “I was there, okay? I don’t care what your stupid information tells you, and I don’t take kindly to how you’re switching the names around.”
“I hear you,” Geezer started, “but the records are pretty clear on this. They had originally thought that the velociraptor was the big one, but it turned out that the deinonychus is.”
“Think about it, you iron mannequin,” Veli said irritably, “my name is Veli! That’s short for Velociraptor!”
“Wouldn’t that be Velo?” said Harr.
“Shut up.”
Geezer stepped forward. “Just curious why when we called him ‘Dino Boy’ everyone was all up in arms, but when he referred to me as the ‘Iron Mannequin,’ nobody seemed to care.”
Veli ran over to pick up his luggage. He stopped and opened his datapad, keyed in his primary code, ran a few overrides, smiled to himself, and said, “There.”
As he sped back across towards the exit, he heard one of the Reluctant crew say, “”Thir, there’th an urgent metthage coming in from Inkblot.””
“On screen,” said Harr as Veli watched from the doorway.
“The self-destruct for Fantasy Planet has been entered. We’ve only got five minutes before total annihilation.”
“That sounds bad,” said Geezer.
“Ya sure?” Inklot replied sarcastically.
Veli was half elated and half annoyed. He was happy to be killing them all, but he was annoyed at the prospect of having to create a new Fantasy Planet.
THE CORE OF THINGS
Goozer stood with his arms crossed.
“There’s no way I’m going in there again,” he stated.
Platoon F: Quadology: Missions 6, 7, 8, and 9 (Platoon F eBook Bundle 2) Page 53