CHAPTER 3: The Definition of Duty

"Sometimes doing the right thing isn't doing

the right thing."

-From SWAT

"The army wants soldiers, not robots."

-From Inside Delta Force

By Eric Haney

Tak awoke to a knocking at her door. She swore quetly, and got out of bed, feeling the plush carpet against her bare feet. She threw on a dark purple silken night shirt, and hastily buttoning it, walked to the door. She disengaged the lock, and slid open the door. A soldier stood at attention.

"What, private?" Tak asked, half groggily, half annoyed.

"Lieutennant Tak, ma'am," The private in the meticulously pressed uniform said. "The Tallest request your presence on command deck immediately." Tak looked the young soldier over. His uniform was spotless, orderly, his boots shined to a mirror finish. The material of his holster was not even worn in the least. Fucking parade ground soldiers, Tak thought. He's probably never had to fire that gun.

"Did they say why?"

"Yes, ma'am. They said they have new orders that they feel you could carry out effectively. They wish to brief you." Tak looked at the private. He was adsent-mindedly eyeing her body. She realized that she was still only wearing a thin silk night shirt, and fought a smile.

"You have a girlfriend, private?" Tak asked.

"N...no ma'am." The private answered, blushing slightly.

"Get one." Tak said, closing the door. She hurredly donned her dress uniform, staightening the wrinkles manually. She pulled on her boots, fastening all four buckles on each, then put on her shined black dress belt. She looked at the small box of medals on the table, then down at her shirt. "Fuck it." She whispered, and left the room.

"My Tallest." Tak said, coming to salute before her leaders on the control deck, "You sent for me."

"Yes, lieutennant." Red said, a smug grin on his face. "We have a mission in need of an officer of your caliber."

"Yes, sirs?" Tak asked. Red sighed, and placed his arms behind his back. He turned away, staring out a large window into space.

"Define...duty, lieutennant." Tak's eyes moved around the room, nervously. "Well?"

"I like to think duty is carrying out orders dspite personal feelings, serving your government with honor and courage, and uphoding the honor and integrity of its leaders and citizens."

"Good, good," Red replied, turning back to Tak. "Then we can all be frank here."

"Frank, sirs?"

"There were no weapons hidden in Mazbad." Purple said. "There never were." Tak breathed a sigh of anger.

"But," Red said, "We had to have a cause to invade. You see, the Tylaquians have been warring with their neighbors for centuries. They want to expand their territory using violence, terrorism, attrition. They ignore the very values we hold dear. A race like that just needs to be eliminated."

"So you gave false information about them having the weapons cache." Tak said, now fully understanding her part in the facade she had helped to lead.

"Yes, you have to understand, it was in the best intrests of all Irkens that Tylaquia be invaded. But there is a problem, and all problems have solutions. We need you to lead a mission in Mazbad."

"A mission to what, sirs? The city is already taken."

"We need you to find the cache of weapons, and destroy it."

"But I thought there was no cache of weapons, sirs. You said..."

"I know what I said, lieutennant." Red snapped. "But we want you to go in and find the cache of weapons, destroy it fully, and report back." Tak stood, a lump in her throat, and fear in her eyes. It was a damn coverup mission. A bloc ops mission to shovel a lie on top of another lie.

"Duty, lieutennant." Purple said, "Remember? Uphold the honor and integrity of your leaders, carry out your orders reguardless of how you feel? Your words."

"Well?" Red said impatiently. "Will you take the mission, lieutennant?"

"Y...yes." Tak stammered, managing a shaky salute. "Yes...sirs."

"Assemble your unit. You leave in two days. Dismissed." Red said, turning away.

"FUCK!" Tak screamed in her room. She threw a glass accross the room, breaking it against the wall. She violently stripped off her uniform shirt as if it burned her, throwing it onto the floor. She angrily slid her hand accross the table, knocking her box of medals to the carpet. She then turned, catching her reflection in the mirror.

"Damn you." She said to her reflection. "Damn you, you whore!" Tak fell to her knees, burying her head in her hands, sobbing like she hadn't done in years. She felt weak, useless, used. To Tak, this was rape of the worst kind. It was a bloody puppet show of death, and she was the star marionette. She weakly crawled into the bed, shaking with dispair and anger.

"Duty." She said sardonically. "Duty, duty, what fucking duty? I'm no soldier, I'm a bloody shit-shoveling yes-girl. Duty. Duty to what? Uphold lies, protect the greed and arrogance of a couple of...FUCK!" She yelled, throwing a pillow off of the bed angrily. Tak leaned over the edge of the bed and pulled the pistol from the holster on her belt. Rolling onto her back, she pushed the muzzle of the weapon against her temple. Her hand began shaking. She lowered the weapon, and dropped it onto the floor.

"Too easy." She muttered, and stepped off the bed. She walked to the mirror. Damn that mirror. Tak stared at her reflection for some time. She cocked her head to one side as she stared into her own eyes. She remembered what an old soldier had told her when she was just a smeet.

"Remember," He had said. "A soldier's allegiance lies in upholding his people. His flag. A soldier's duty is to the nation, not it's leaders. Leaders make mistakes. Leaders die. Irk's values are forever."

Tak smiled and inhaled deeply. She knew what she had to do. She was an Irken soldier, and she had to carry out her duty.

Powerful, huh? Need I even say anything? Please, tell me what you thought. An artist is nothing without critics.