Pew! Pew! - Bad versus Worse

by M. D. Cooper

  Johnnie turned to Bravhart. “So, your boss is a real tool, isn’t he?”

  Bravhart made a noise that sounded like a balloon losing all of its air. “How dare you talk about the commandant that way!”

  “What? Seriously? He talks to you like you’re a smear of Varkor shit that he can’t quite get off of the sole of his boot.”

  “I’ll have you know that he thinks very highly of me.”

  “Yeah? What the hell gives you that idea?”

  “He gives me a lot of responsibilities here are the Academy. A sure sign that he has complete confidence in my abilities.”

  “More like he gives you all the shit jobs because he knows you’re too weak to ever complain about it.”

  Bravhart’s stare was one of anger, but behind it there was a great deal of sadness and recognition of the truth. “Commandant Lords is a great man. A galactic hero. He deserves our respect and admiration, not the constant barrage of contempt you direct at him, nor the problems that you cause to him and this fine institution.”

  “Galactic hero? You are living in a fantasy matrix, Lieutenant. You think they reward galactic heroes by making them the principal of a freaking school? Really? Lords never did anything except make sure he was far out of harm’s way and suck up to the admiralty to make sure he had a nice cushy job where he could sit at a desk and drink all day and have sex with the robotic help. Even then, he still managed to accidentally fire on a civilian luxury transport in the middle of a wargame exercise and nearly kill every major donor to the school.”

  Bravhart looked at him askance. “That’s not true.”

  “Oh, but it is. Look it up. I make it my business to know every detail about the lives of those I torment.”

  They arrived at the bottom floor and the lift doors opened. The guards pulled Johnnie over to one of the cells. The door contained an invisible force field, indicated only by a bright light lining the door’s perimeter. Bravhart tapped a code on the control panel that lowered the force field and the guards threw Johnnie into the cell.

  “Oh, how I’ve looked forward to this day, Jacobson. Let’s see daddy get you out of this one.” Bravhart laughed as he entered the code to put the force field back up.

  “You know what, Lieutenant Bravbutt? By the time this whole thing is over, I’m going to make sure you’re sitting in here instead of me. Just you wait and see.”

  Bravhart continued to laugh all the way out of the detention floor.

  Johnnie’s bravado disappeared as soon as Bravhart was gone. He slumped onto one of two hard benches in the back of the cell. The only other prisoner was lying on the other bench across from him, with his back to Johnnie.

  “So, what are you in for?” Johnnie asked.

  The other person rolled over, revealing a handsome, fiftyish officer with salt-and-pepper hair. He looked like he might have been a hero once…because he was. Captain Brent Rickard was the fleet’s finest captain before he burnt out.

  Rickard had been a star from the moment he had stepped foot at the Academy at the age of sixteen. He was the youngest cadet ever to graduate, and eventually became the youngest officer in the history of the Fleet to become captain. He had won battles, negotiated peace, initiated successful first contacts, discovered new planets and other galactic phenomena, and saved more than a few species from extinction. He even saved the entire Galactic Alliance from an invading force of other-dimensional insectoids bent on its destruction by figuring out a way to travel back in time and preventing them from evolving into a sentient life form.

  He was also, however, a notorious womanizer, with enough illegitimate half-human children scattered across the sector to crew their own starship. When he had simultaneous affairs with both the wife and daughter of the Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance, not even the metric ton of medals, citations, keys to cities, and other awards he had accumulated could prevent him from being busted down to Academy Instructor. This had led him to a constant feeling of misery which he was always trying to sooth with alcohol.

  Johnnie was obviously shocked by the revelation of whom he was sharing a cell with, and his surprise showed in the volume of his voice. “Captain Rickard?”

  Rickard winced at the question. “Can you lower the volume a bit, son? My head feels like a Denobulan She-Devil sat on it all night.”

  Johnnie spoke quietly this time. “Ugh. How come?”

  Rickard sat up slowly. “I’m pretty sure a Denobulan She-Devil sat on it all night. But I’m not positive. It’s all a little fuzzy due to the enormous quantities of alcohol involved.

  “How did you end up in here?”

  Rickard looked around. “Hmm. They probably put me in here for my own safety. Sometimes I try to take a stroll on the surface of Forcus Three when I’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Yeesh. That can be hazardous to your health.” That was putting it mildly. Forcus Three had very little atmosphere, and what it did have was extremely toxic to humans.

  “Tell me about it. The first time I did it, I actually opened up an airlock before they grabbed me. I think I may have killed a few brain cells.”

  “Well, it didn’t affect your teaching any. Your Particle Beam Weapons class is my favorite.”

  “Is it? I didn’t realize I was teaching that class this semester.”

  Johnnie looked at him questioningly. “Uh…yeah. It’s really the only class I attend on a regular basis. You’re pretty much my hero.”

  Rickard stood up gingerly and stared out the doorway. “Well, I just kind of read whatever notes are on the screen in front of me.”

  Johnnie was genuinely disappointed. “Really? Huh.”

  Rickard held out his hands. “Say, did you ever wonder if maybe there isn’t really a force field in these doorways? What if it’s just a light, and they’re using the power of psychological suggestion to trick us into staying in here?”

  “Well, no, not—”

  KA-ZAP! Rickard received a massive shock as he touched the force field and was thrown against the back wall of the cell.

  “—really.”

  Rickard slid to the floor and fell into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Three

  One of the few parts of the Academy that wasn’t run by the Galactic Alliance was StarChuck’s Coffee House, owned by a tall alien made mostly of hair named Archuckawalah, or “Chuck” for short. If there was another place to go and get coffee and food outside of the cafeteria—anyplace at all—then the staff and students would certainly be there. But there wasn’t, so they weren’t. It wasn’t that StarChuck’s wasn’t a nice place, or that Chuck wasn’t a perfectly pleasant being. It was just that he had a penchant for constant shedding, and his coat grew back to full thickness in less than a day.

  There was also the fact that Chuck didn’t appear to be wearing any clothing except for boots, a small hairnet on top of his head, and a belt with various cooking utensils. This made things awkward for everyone involved.

  So the place was packed practically around the clock, since the Academy didn’t have day and night in the traditional sense, but rather rotating shifts like on a starship. There were cadets of every grade and every species that maintained membership in the Alliance, faculty members, maintenance people, family members visiting the cadets, and even visitors who showed up on tours. Chuck seemed to always be there, no matter the time, which brought into question when, and if, he ever slept. There was even a theory that there was more than one “Chuck,” and it was just that nobody could tell them apart.

  There were vid-screens lining the walls and holo-projectors at every table, and noise-canceling fields for those who wanted quiet or to listen to their own music without bothering others. There were gaming consoles, dart boards, pool tables, and everything else one expected in a bar, as well as poker and other card games in a secret back room if one knew the right password. If it weren’t for having to sleep and attend classes, most residents of the Academy would probably spend as much time at StarChuck’s as Chuck himself did
.

  Chuck carried four beverages over to the table where Shannon, Reg, and Tonga sat with their new acquaintance, C.O.R.A., who stared into her cup with a raised eyebrow.

  “Are these ciliary strands normal for this type of beverage?” She asked.

  Shannon was apologetic, even though it wasn’t her fault. She spoke quietly, hoping that Chuck wouldn’t hear her. “Hair in your coffee is just a by-product of enjoying time at StarChuck’s. You get used to it.”

  Chuck made a roaring sound. It was unclear whether he was responding to Shannon or making a different statement.

  Reg was depressed. “I can’t believe he’s going to prison.”

  Chuck made another animal-like noise, this time sounding like a question.

  Reg happened to understand Chuck’s language. “I know, but it’s all my fault for tripping Ramses.”

  Tonga looked down. “No. It’s my fault for blocking him in the hallway with my heavily-muscled body so he would get caught.”

  Shannon shook her head. “Guys, I appreciate you trying to take the blame, but it’s obviously my fault for getting him into trouble with the administration. I was even excited about it. I mean, like, really enthusiastic about it.”

  C.O.R.A. watched all three of them wallowing in self-pity. “I do not share in the blame in any way whatsoever. In fact, I was not even present.”

  The other three gave her WTF looks.

  “I was simply attempting to join in the conversation by continuing the pattern of assessing how much each party shared in the blame for Cadet Jacobson’s impending imprisonment.”

  Shannon jumped in. “You don’t always have to say something, C.O.R.A. Just wait until you have something meaningful to add.”

  C.O.R.A. nodded stiffly. “Understood.”

  “School just isn’t going to be the same without him,” Reg continued.

  “He did seem like a fun guy. I sort of wish I had gotten to know him before I got him carted off to prison,” Shannon added.

  “I believe he would have been someone I could have tolerated if I had gotten a chance to know him.” Tonga raised his coffee. “To...what was his name again?”

  “Johnnie,” Reg answered.

  “To Johnnie.” They all raised their coffees in unison and drank.

  Chuck growled another question.

  Shannon echoed his query. “Yeah, where is Johnnie right now?”

  Reg deflated even more thinking about it. “The commandant threw him into the brig.”

  C.O.R.A. perked up. “My memory drive contains all of the plans and codes for the Star Academy, including the brig. Is that meaningful enough to add?”

  Reg’s mouth dropped open. “C.O.R.A., how did you get that kind of information?”

  “I downloaded it while I was in the commandant’s office performing a routine maintenance session.”

  Shannon looked relieved. “Oooh, so you really do work in there. It’s funny…we actually thought there was something…I don’t know…sexual going on in there.”

  Shannon and Reg laughed.

  “Yes. That too.”

  The others grimaced at the thought.

  “I knew it!” Reg was genuinely upset in addition to being excited about being right.

  Shannon looked like she was going to vomit. “That’s disgusting.”

  Tonga was even more concerned. “Why would you let him do that to you?”

  “It is all part of my experience in learning about biological life forms and mimicking their behavior. Commandant Lords believes the more practice I get, the better it is for me.”

  Reg shuddered. “But he’s old. And nasty.”

  Shannon broke in. “Not to mention the commandant of the school. And you’re a student.”

  C.O.R.A. looked away as she attempted to access her memory. “I am unfamiliar as to why these details would make a difference. Do the humans and other biological beings at the Academy not regularly engage in many different forms of sexual intercourse?”

  Shannon answered first. “Yes, but it’s different.”

  C.O.R.A.’s eyes blinked and beeped as a holographic projection formed in front of her face...a frozen image of Lords making his “Oh!” face. “Perhaps if I play back a recording of one of our sessions, you can explain why—”

  The other three students all answered in unison. “NO!”

  “Please don’t.” Shannon added. “Just please.”

  C.O.R.A. turned off the recording.

  Chuck barked a little.

  “That’s a good point, Chuck,” said Reg. “C.O.R.A., do you think you could lower the force field in the brig with those codes you have?”

  She nodded. “No, I do not think so.”

  The others look disappointed for a second.

  Then: “I am certain of it.”

  Reg was ecstatic as he pumped a fist into the air. “Yes!”

  Shannon not so much. “Wait. You can’t be seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

  Chuck made a sound of encouragement.

  Reg high-fived him. “Not just suggesting. Insisting. I can’t let Johnnie go to prison. He’s done way too much for me.”

  Tonga squinted in a suspicious way. “Such as…?”

  “Well, there was…hmmm…Oh, yeah, the time—wait, that wasn’t… How about…?” Reg trailed off, lost in thought.

  Shannon scowled. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Okay, so maybe I can’t think of anything right off the top of my head. But he’s in trouble because of us, and that’s enough. We need to save him.”

  Chuck gave another encouraging roar. Tonga looked at Shannon and raised an eyebrow. “I do feel terrible about him going to prison. If I’d known his punishment was going to be that serious—”

  “Screw it.” Shannon ripped the hall monitor pass off of her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m participating in a jail break. What’s the plan?”

  ***

  C.O.R.A. entered the brig with her uniform unzipped most of the way down in front, her ample cleavage and even her faux-navel exposed. She gave the two security guards a come hither look, crooking her finger as well as beckoning them with her eyes. As they approached her enthusiastically, if somewhat cautiously, she put an arm around each one and turned them around.

  As soon as they were facing away from the doorway, Tonga snuck through the entrance, silently grabbed their foreheads from behind, and slammed their heads together. They fell to the metal floor likes sacks of potatoes as their blasters clattered to the floor as well. Tonga carefully dragged them out through the doorway.

  Shannon quickly followed Reg in through the entrance. “I’m so nervous.”

  Reg raised his eyebrows. “You probably should be.”

  “I haven’t done anything like this since I got revenge on the guy who dumped me for a two-headed Venusian on our three-month anniversary.”

  “What kind of scaly, disgusting piece of maggot-meat would do something like that?”

  Just then, Tonga walked in, smiling. “Hey, guys.”

  Reg shot him a look, but Shannon spoke before he could ask the obvious follow-up.

  “What took you so long?”

  “The guards are taken care of. Don’t worry…I took their vitals and made sure the restraints weren’t cutting off their circulation and that they were lying in comfortable positions.”

  Reg shook his head. “You sure are a ruthless bastard, Tonga.”

  “I also made sure they each had a thermos full of water with the straw ready for them to sip once they awaken.”

  “Dude. Brutal.”

  C.O.R.A. went to the computer station and stuck her tongue into a slot on the console. She wiggled it around, which lowered the force field to Johnnie’s cell.

  Reg became sweaty and overheated watching the display, and was about to pass out. “Anyone have some water I can have? Like, maybe an entire cold bathtub’s worth?”

  As the lights around the cell door went dark, Johnnie jumped out of his cell
excitedly, but his expression switched from joy to anger as soon as he spotted Shannon and Tonga. He began bouncing back and forth between his feet and rotating his fists, like some kind of old-timey boxer.

  “So…the commandant sent you down here to finish me off, huh? We’ll see about that!”

  Reg stepped out from behind the others.

  “Et tu, Reginald? How quickly they turn. I always knew you were nothing but a no-good, sleazy, lying—”

  “We’re here to rescue you, Johnnie,” Reg interrupted.

  Johnnie changed gears instantaneously as he put his arm around Reg’s shoulders. “Reg! My best friend. My good buddy. You realize this whole misunderstanding could have been avoided if you had just been up front when this started. Instead, you were hidden behind the two narcs and the gorgeous sex robot.”

  Shannon became indignant. “She’s not a sex robot!”

  “Someone should tell the commandant that.” Johnnie looked C.O.R.A. up and down, bent over the computer console with her tongue still in the input slot and her zipper still all the way down. “And maybe someone should let her know, too.”

  Shannon motioned for C.O.R.A. to zip up her uniform, and the android complied. “She’s also the reason we were able to release you, since she has the codes for everything at the Academy.”

  “Then why not just use the code on the force field control instead of the...tongue thing?”

  Shannon raised an eyebrow and grimaced, not sure how to respond.

  Johnnie rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Okay, whatever. What’s next?”

  The others exchanged uncomfortable looks, then Reg replied. “Actually, we, uh…didn’t really get that far. We didn’t think it all the way through, and we weren’t sure what to do if we did succeed in releasing you. Basically, we were hoping you’d know what to do.”