“And you’re asking us to help you?”
“That’s the thing,” Harr said carefully. “You see, we can’t stop the guy in there, so we’re hoping you can.”
“I’d say it’s not like we have much choice, Commodore.”
Harr heaved a sigh as he watched D9283’s head bouncing all over the place. Hands were flying too and then there was a sudden influx of robots all over the screens in the background. Whatever they had been previously doing was taking a backseat to the new threat.
“Do we have your permission to exterminate the human in the lifeboat?” D9283 said with a pause.
“By all means, yes.”
An arc of electricity burst from three of the points on the Kortnor station, merging into a single point that they knocked out the four surrounding lifeboats. It was one hell of an explosion. Yek’s lifeboat kept zooming forward, seemingly unaffected.
“You’ll be glad to know that we did not have to destroy your comrade, Commodore,” D9283 said.
“Nope,” Harr said. “I’m not glad to hear that at all.”
“I’m sorry?”
“He’s going to keep coming after you …”
The signal went to static briefly and then Yek’s face appeared. He looked miffed. Of course, he always looked miffed, but this time he looked positively miffed.
“You stupid son of a bitch,” Yek said, almost calmly. “Now I have to break into that station and destroy each of those robots by hand.”
“Excuse me,” D9283 said, “but I believe that you will not be doing that on this day, sir.”
“Nobody’s talking to you, you wired freak.”
D9283 looked at Harr as if to say, “What the hell?”
Harr shrugged and said, “You’re the one that let him live.”
“… and when I get to your ship, you stupid piece of tin, I’ll tear each and every one of you to shreds.”
“I think not,” D9283 said and pressed a button.
“Oh?” said Yek. “And what the hell do you think you’re going to do …oh, shit.”
And that was the end of Yek. Harr couldn’t help but feel an enormous sense of relief at that piece of garbage disappearing from the universe of the living.
“He dead, chief?” asked Geezer.
“Thanks to our friends,” Harr replied, nodding at D9283, “we no longer have to worry about Special Agent Yek.”
“Well, sort of,” Geezer replied. “Remember that he left a bomb somewhere on board.”
“Dammit. That’s right. D9283, I don’t suppose you’ve got any bomb-sniffing robots on that station of yours?”
D9283 pointed at the screen and said, “You have plenty of androids right on your bridge that could find that bomb and defuse it rather quickly.”
“Ugh,” Harr said as the crew again looked at him, this time with scrunched up faces. “Okay, fine! Fine! You’re all androids, all right?”
No response.
Commander Sandoo found a chair and slowly lowered himself into it. Laasel, who had fortunately stayed her normal self for the duration of the deployment, turned back to her station without saying a word. Jezden grunted and shook his head at Harr as if Harr were at fault for all of this. The rest of the crew alternated from looking at Harr, to looking at each other, to looking at the floor.
“Look,” Harr said after the air had settled. “I just found out about this a few hours ago. The only humans on board this ship were me and Yek. Everyone else is an android, except for Geezer, obviously.” He took a deep breath. “The truth is that you were all made by the Kortnor, contracted to be exceedingly human-like because The SSMC didn’t want to risk more actual human lives than necessary.”
Again, silence.
“But what does it matter if you’re androids or not? We’re all going to blow up any minute if we don’t find that bomb.” Harr put his hands on his hips. “So, whether you like the fact that you’re androids or not, you’d better get to finding and defusing that bomb before you end up being the shortest-lived mechs in history!”
“Honcho,” Geezer said. “I found it.”
“Oh?”
“Clever dicknose, that Yek. He stuck it on our forward thruster unit. It’s not timed. The heat from the thrust would have eventually caused it to detonate.”
“That’s good at least. So we’re in the clear?”
“It wouldn’t hurt to do a full sweep of The Reluctant, but I doubt anything else will turn up. This was hidden quite nicely.”
“Good job, Geezer,” Harr said and then he looked back at the main screen, “and thanks for the help, D9283.”
“My pleasure. Please remember about the warranty cards …”
“Right,” Harr said and then disconnected.
BACK ON TRACK
His crew went about their tasks mechanically. Nobody said anything. They just did their work and kept their heads down. Even Jezden stayed focused on the job at hand.
Harr had left the bridge to check on Geezer and the propulsion, and, once seeing everything was in order, he retired to his quarters.
It had been a long few days for Harr. Even though he looked like a superhero, he didn’t feel like one.
The androids were lucky, if anything. They’d go on another thousand years, doing this and that, exploring new cultures and new ideas, assuming they got into a continuous state of upgrades and programming changes.
Harr was stuck with what he was, though. Technology could gift him with a few more years, but only if he slowly gave up his humanity in the process.
His pad chimed.
“Harr here,” he said and then saw the face of Rear Admiral Parfait on his screen. He sat up. “Sir!”
“At ease, Lieutenant.”
“Commodore.”
“I’m a Rear Admiral, Lieutenant, which you should be able to note from my stripes!”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir. I meant that I’m a Commodore,” Harr said, pointing to his stripes.
“Yes,” Parfait said as he looked at Harr funnily, “I know.”
Harr sniffed and took in a quick breath. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Oh, it’s going to be that kind of call, is it?” Parfait said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Uh, no, sir,” Harr said and then added, “Did you get my report?”
“That’s why I’m calling, Lieutenant. You’re clearly in need of rest! Yek’s demise has thoroughly pleased the brass here, let me tell you. That was one sick bastard. Imagine him trying to start a war with one of our closest allies.”
“But, sir, you all approved his plan, right?”
“Well, sure, but that’s only because Yek seemed more dangerous to us than the Kortnor, especially when he was in the office here.”
Harr nodded.
“Anyway, you and your crew of androids did a splendid job. You’ll all be receiving awards and such.”
“Any chance I can get my real name and face back, sir?”
“No luck there, Lieutenant. The SSMC just can’t turn its back on the clerical error we made, you know?”
“I suppose not, sir,” Harr said as turned away and bent over to pick up a pair of socks.
“What say you come and work in my office? I could certainly use someone in your, uh, position.”
Harr stood up quickly and faced the screen again. “With all due respect, sir, I think that I’d like to keep Platoon F together.”
“Not sure if that’s in the cards, Lieutenant.”
“Again, sir, it’s Commodore, and I think that The SSMC owes me one.”
“I suppose we do at that,” Parfait tapped his chin. “Okay, Commodore, I’m listening.”
“Keep us all on The SSMC Reluctant. We’ll update the ship for special missions. We’ve already gotten propulsion on her, thanks to the ship’s mechanic, and with all these androids on board we’ll have the strength of 100 soldiers.”
Parfait leaned back. “So you’re saying that you think it’s a good idea for a single human to command a platoon of andro
ids?”
“It seemed to work just fine on this mission, sir.”
“Huh … you’ve a point there, Commodore.”
“Yes, sir, and sir, I’d kind of like to be demoted to Captain.”
“Demoted? Why would you want that?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a Captain, sir, but I’ve never wanted to be more than that. I’m just not cut out to be a part of the brass. It’s not in my DNA.”
“Speaking of DNA …”
“Sir?”
“Sorry. I’ll get to work on the Captain thing, if your certain that’s what you want, and I have to admit that a special forces team of androids is a pretty hot idea, especially that young Jezden fellow. Not sure about The SSMC Reluctant, though. She’s a piece of history.”
“All the more reason nobody will expect her to be an undercover ship.”
“You’ve got quite a thinking cap on, Harr. I like that.” Parfait leaned back forward and crossed his hands. “I’ll tell you what. You agree to have dinner with me to discuss the specifics and we’ll make it happen.”
“Let me make you a counteroffer, sir,” Harr said with a smile. “You agree to make this happen and I’ll keep my mouth shut about how the upper brass was so afraid of a single lunatic, that they nearly put the entire Sengal System at war with the Kortnor, and I’ll also keep my trap shut about the little military clerical error that got me in this jam in the first place.”
Parfait rubbed his nose for a moment as his skin turned a little red. “You can be really naughty when you want to be, can’t you, Lieutenant.”
“It’s Commodore, sir.”
“I thought you wanted to be a Captain?”
“True. So, do we have a deal?”
“I’ll get the paperwork set and signed. You’ve got yourself a permanent ship and crew. Congratulations, Captain Harr.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harr saluted and then disconnected the channel.
PLATOON F
Standing back on the bridge, Harr explained the situation to his crew.
Geezer had gotten the propulsion under control and The SSMC Reluctant was now purposefully pushing itself back to the rails. Harr never bothered to ask what type of fuel Geezer was using, but the robot assured him that it would cause no pollution. Still, Harr thought it best for the robot to keep the information to himself. From Harr’s perspective, the less that he knew, the less the SSMC would know.
“I’m sure you all have loads of questions,” Harr said. “The main thing that I want you all to know is that we’re a team. Yes, you’re all androids and I’m a human, and Geezer is a robot, but we all belong to Platoon F.”
Laasel stood up and said, “Thorry, thir, but I have a quethtion.”
“Yes, Hank?”
“I mean no dithrethpect here, but don’t you thee it ath a little bit rathitht that a human ruleth over a bunch of androidth?”
“Rathitht?” Harr said.
“Yeth.”
“Sorry, Hank. I don’t understand …”
“Racist,” Sandoo stated. “He’s saying that you’re the only human on board and you’re in charge of all of us. I don’t personally see it as racism, especially since we’re not really a race.”
“Actually,” Harr said, coming to their defense, “I would say you are a race.”
“Then we demand equal rights!” Jezden said. A few of the crewmen, obviously ones that he had bagged over the last couple of days, nodded their heads in agreement.
“What makes you think you don’t have them already?”
“Well, because you’re in charge, obviously,” Jezden replied. “We hold no positions of power.”
“You’re an Ensign,” Harr pointed out. “You are ranked more highly than all of the crewmen under you, including 1st, 2nd, and 3rd class parties, right?”
“Yeah, but …”
“And, from your record, you’re actually an Ensign 1st Class, which is shocking, since, let’s be honest here, you have very little class.”
“Hey!”
“And Lieutenant Laasel is ranked higher than you, no?”
“She is, but …”
“Commander Sandoo is next in line, I believe. That puts him squarely ahead of all of you, able to run orders, command the bridge, make autonomous decisions, and so on and so forth.”
“I understand that …”
“But you can’t help but wonder why they have a human at the helm, eh? Why is it that I’m sitting here directing things while all of you, obviously superior in strength, intellect, and, in your case, specifically, genitalia, are, in a proverbial sense, beneath me?”
Jezden sat back with his eyes darting about. “Well … yes, exactly that.”
“And it’s a fine question,” Harr said honestly. “There are a few reasons, I can assure you. First of all, while you are superior to me in intellect, you lack cunning.”
“Oh, no, sir,” Crewman Ooster said, coming to Jezden’s defense, “he’s quite adept at that!”
“I said cunning.”
“Ah … my mistake.”
“You have to understand that we humans are diabolical creatures. We’ll shake your hand and smile at you one day, and then stick a serrated edge in your back the very next, assuming it proves beneficial to bettering our station.”
“But that’s awful.”
“I agree, Commander, and yet we do it all the time. A show of hands, if you would: How many of you would promise to work together on a project?”
All their hands went up.
“Now, how many of you would double-cross the person you just promised to work with so that you could get a promotion?”
No hands, just shaking heads.
“That’s point number one,” Harr said. “Point number two, you were made by the Kortnor. I wasn’t.”
“Tho?”
“So, Hank … by the way, can we have Laasel back, please?” Laasel blinked and looked around confusedly. “Welcome back, Lieutenant. As I was saying, you were all made by the Kortnor.”
“We were?” Laasel asked with her eyebrows fully up.
“Just ask one of your other personalities for the details,” Harr said, continuing on while allowing her to mull that thought over, “… since you were made by the Kortnor, we have to have significant testing done to ensure that they did not put some type of sleeper code in you that causes you to rout the Segnal Sector from the inside.”
Commander Sandoo raised his hand and said, “Was there anything in the contract with the Kortnor that said for them not to do that?”
“I see where you’re going with this, Commander, and it’s a great point. There is indeed language of that nature in the contract, and I’m fully aware that the Kortnor, being robots, adhered to the letter of that contract. But you have to understand that the rest of the military complex would not necessarily be so accepting as I am.”
“Then we really have no choice in the matter,” said Jezden in a depressed voice.
“On the contrary, Ensign Jezden,” Harr stated. “I have absolutely no desire for any man, woman, robot, or android to serve under my command if they are adamantly opposed to doing so.”
“Really?”
“Almost. If you just don’t like me then that’s too bad, but if you have sound ethical reasons for wanting off this boat, then I will personally assist you in doing just that. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Commodore,” they replied in unison.
“Ah—as to that, I have requested a demotion. I am now Captain Don Harr.”
“Why would you do that, sir?”
“I didn’t want to be a Commodore. I don’t like military brass, Commander. They’re assholes.”
“Hahaha,” said Jezden while slapping his knee. “I just got that! Captain Harr Don! Too bad the SSMC doesn’t offer the rank of Major, eh?”
The rest of the bridge giggled mercilessly. Even Geezer sent a couple of “Heh heh’s” through the comm.
“Right,” Harr said loudly, “I’m certain that we wi
ll have a number of missions available to us, especially when it’s learned just exactly how good a crew you really are; so, unless anyone has one of those ethical dilemmas I mentioned before, what say we get this boat back on the rails and show the SSMC the best damned space platoon in the fleet?”
There were smiles all around at that question, and heads turned back and work began to get done.
Harr knew full well that the road ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as he stayed one step cunningly ahead of this crew, they’d work hard and would prove to be an amazing asset in bolstering his own career. With any luck, he’d make Rear Admiral within a few years and then he could go about clearing his real name, even if he could never return to using it.
The SSMC Reluctant suddenly started to clink and clank again.
“Yo, chief,” Geezer said through the comm, “we’re back on the rail and heading home.”
“Thanks,” Harr said. “And, Geezer?”
“Yeah?”
“Good job.”
“You too, Cap’n. You too.”
Mission 2 from the files of
Platoon F
ARBYONE
He was the first created robot from the Rusty Bucket line. Not a prototype, but the actual first of his kind to roll out of production. In other words, they had brushed out all the kinks before he'd been made.
His serial number was stamped as RB00001, and he had flaunted it wherever possible…back when he was still relevant.
At one point, it actually meant something to be from the Rusty Bucket line, but those days were long gone. Their kind was now relegated to working in the mines, garbage pits, sludge factories, and, worst of all, governmental desk jobs.
"Arbyone," chirped Mr. Turm, a human man with a fat belly and a constant sneer, "quit your daydreaming and get back to work!"
He hated it when Mr. Turm called him "Arbyone." Yes, it was easier than saying "RB00001," but in his estimation, coming from Mr. Turm, it was said as a slur.
"Yes, sir," Arbyone said with a sigh and resumed shoveling the knee-high crap.
As soon as Mr. Turm was out of view, Arbyone turned to RB00077, who was improperly named "Wise," and said, "One day I'm going to get that bastard."
Platoon F: Pentalogy Page 8