"In space travel, one name reigns supreme: Robloxia! We have the best luxury flights, the best service, and the best arrival times! Luggage is loaded while you wait, and unlike any other passenger ships, Robloxian technicians and crew will handle everything while you relax in your five-star top-notch suite! A stunning view of the stars will present itself as you dine on fine foods and drink exquisite beverages hand-prepared by our finest mixers! And with a gun compliment of over fifty per ship, attacks from the depths of space are a thing of the past! Robloxia: where we serve you best!"
Robloxian Transport Ways ad, before the First Robloxian War
"A Slice?! In the Great Justice?!"
Gold sat in his captain's chair in his study, livid with fury. Before him stood Jack, John, and Helen. In his hands, Jack carried the burnt-out fragments of the Slice, now a milky and mottled black.
"How the hell did it get in?!" raged Gold. "How the hell?! I personally oversaw the cargo manifest! We scanned EVERY SINGLE MAINTENANCE PASSENGER! How's this possible?! HOW?!" Gold stood up, swept the papers off his desk, stomped to the corner of the room and slammed his fists against the wall. As a secretary looked at him in puzzlement, Gold snapped, "Get back to your work!" The secretary hastily looked back down at his computer screen.
"With... all due respect, sir," Jack cut in, "that Slice might have entered with one of the support staff. If you scan only the maintenance workers, then that's a problem."
"What do you know?!" bellowed Gold. "I've gotta run a whole STARSHIP here! And you're just some... isolated city boy!"
"Yes, I suppose that's true," said Jack. With a flourish of his coat, he withdrew a set of credentials. "I'm an isolated city boy with over a dozen commendations, a high rank in Spectre Branch, and the Purple Spider award. What do you have to say to that? AND, to compound all that, I was hired as a security officer, and I'm going to damn well secure around here even if it does mean-" and here his confidence swelled dramatically "-relieving you of your command if you fail to measure up."
"You wouldn't dare," Gold said flatly.
"I might just dare at that," Jack replied. "Unless, of course, you step up to your responsibilities... like a responsible captain should. And I'd recommend, to start, posting more guards around the ship. I noticed on my walk over here that there were very few guards around some of the more vulnerable parts of the ship. The few guards I did see were armed only with stunsticks. Why's that? You didn't anticipate any danger on the flight? I don't know a lot about space, but I know a lot about security, and the prime philosophy of security is to never let your guard down, even for a moment. Now, I'd like you to assign more guards, and this time arm them well. None of that stunstick rubbish, I'm talking about automatic or semi-automatic rifles, maybe a sidearm. Don't skimp on defense! Never skimp on defense! Don't you have an armory? And also, I've noticed a distressing lack of people on the exterior guns. I'm not sure of the rules about that, but I'd advise you fill every defensive post on this damn battleship before tomorrow, or I'll have to contact the Admins and have them reason for me!"
"Mwuh," Gold grunted. The tirade had shaken him badly. But Jack wasn't finished yet.
"I also want you to round up all the support staff on your ship. First mate, communications officers, everyone should report to one of those huge hangar bays you've got just lyin' around. Ever seen those old detective shows, captain? The detective rounds everyone up in the parlor, and he walks around, inspects 'em, and he doesn't let a detail slip past him, and usually he finds his murderer pretty quick. I want you to do that with the support staff, as soon as possible. Understood?"
"Gwuuuuuh hunh," Gold mumbled, nodding dazedly.
"That's all for now," Jack concluded. "Although I might find more things along the way. You never know..."
"Yeah," added John. "You never know." He made an exaggerated suspicious face. For the first time, Jack saw Helen almost crack a smile.
They left Gold to mull over this. As they walked back down the hallway, John looked at Jack.
"Dude, that was legendary," he said.
"I was just making stuff up as I went along," Jack said. "I didn't actually know if I outranked Gold. It was just a lucky guess."
"That appears to be the luckiest guess of the year," Helen muttered.
-OOO-
Oil Duke Shako Hadad was levitating fifty feet in the air, almost at the top of the vaulted ceiling of his chambers. From the floor below, Fadiris watched, face turned upwards. Duke Hadad was a gravity enthusiast. He had been finding ways to circumvent and nullify gravity ever since he had ascended to old Oil Duke Rajid's throne. The obsession had only intensified after Shako had lost his legs in a freak mine explosion on Iceor. Shako himself had ordered a steel sphere, combined with one of his latest antigravity mechanisms, as an upgraded replacement to his legs. Shako's hands had also been upgraded with mini gravity altering modules that were embedded in his palms. The final touch were his eyes, which were built to see fluctuations in gravity overlaid on normal vision, a truly novel augmented reality.
"Your Tanan output is stupendous, Fadiris," Shako said. His deep voice carried clearly to Fadiris's ears, and Fadiris bowed.
"Thank you, sir!" he shouted.
Shako descended, rotating slightly as he did so like a corkscrew. He came to rest ten feet above the floor. The gravity sphere emitted a faint hum.
"The Robloxians want this planet," he said. "Do you know this?"
"Yes, Your Excellence," Fadiris replied, scraping his head on the floor. "They have contacted us, but we have delayed negotiations!"
"Negotiations will not occur," Shako said. "You will assemble your fleet and destroy the first Robloxian ship that arrives. Only my Oil Empire will profit from the Tanan."
"Yes, Your Excellence," Fadiris repeated.
"Good," Shako said. He moved swiftly to a corner of the room, and turned back to face Fadiris. "Now, the traitor I have planted aboard the Robloxian primary ship, the Great Justice..."
"Sir?"
"Ah, but you have not been informed, have you, my dear?" The Duke shot up into the air, rotated five times on his axis, and came to rest ten feet above the floor again. "I have... lightly bribed one of the security dispatch of the Great Justice to kill one of Robloxia's newest and greatest heroes - not because it's enjoyable, but because it will shake the Adminship. They will know that their only recourse is military intervention. And when they intervene... they will feel our burn."
"A brilliant plan, Your Excellence!" Fadiris exclaimed, bowing and scraping.
"Not brilliant enough. It needs more detailed planning," the Duke replied. "But for now, that's none of your concern. Focus on Tanan output, and defense of Oxiaris. And as well as that, assure that my apartments here are secure."
"At once, Your Excellence!"
The Duke nodded, and glided gently out of the room. Fadiris watched him go, and then used the hand signal drilled into the Hadad guardsmen to mean "battle positions." As guardsmen emerged from the shadows, Fadiris stalked out of the room.
-OOO-
There was a lineup of support crew when Jack entered the large hangar bay. Apparently, his orders had spread faster than he had anticipated. Nevertheless, he took up position in front of the rank.
"I've called you here today," he said, "because one of you is a murderer."
Nobody spoke.
"Last night at about 11:00 PM," Jack continued, "something called a Slice was set on me in my room. Now, that could only have been released within the bounds of the ship. We were in render space at the time, and another ship couldn't have possibly intercepted us at the speed that we were going. The maintenance crew is scanned, but not the special support crew... so I'm going to find out which one of you it is."
He began to survey the line, looking at everyone closely, taking in every detail. Most everyone on the line had some sort of worried, nervous, highly guilty look on their face. One bald man was openly sweating. But out of the sea of terror, he found several islands of calm. These were a short man in blue, a RAT representative with white and gray armor, a fat man in a suit and top hat, a security guard with the rank of corporal on his lapel, and a woman in a white jumpsuit who looked quite bored with the whole thing. Jack pulled those people out of the line, and motioned for the rest to stand aside. They did so, and Jack surveyed the five he had selected.
"You seem unusually calm in this situation," he said. "I may need to ask you a few questions."
"The hell kind of reasoning is that?" asked the RAT representative sharply.
"Mine, as a matter of fact," Jack snapped back. "Now, I'd like to know your names and affiliation. Go on, you can tell me!"
"We don't have to," the RAT representative insisted. "We've got rights! The Adminship says so in the Sourcecode!"
"We're, at last count, 550,000,000 miles away from the Adminship," Jack said, putting on an air of menace. "Honestly tell me: who at this distance would find out?"
No answer was forthcoming from the RAT representative, or anyone else for that matter.
"Good," Jack said. "I'll ask the question again."
"M'name's Terry," the short man said. "I work for WIJ and I'm a weapon designer."
"I'm Rhodes," the RAT representative said glumly. "I work for RAT as a diplomatic agent. I've received... er, one medal of commendation, but I lost it in the wash."
"I'm Coolman25," said the man in the suit, "and I work for the Robloxian Robux Bank as a financial reporter." As he spoke, his impressive jowls quivered, and his jaw folded smoothly in and out of his double-chin.
"Corporal Gillysuit1337, sir!" the corporal barked, saluting. "Just joined a week ago, sir! I did not do it, sir! You can count on it, SIR!"
"Sally's my name," the woman in the jumpsuit said. "I work for an experimental armor company that might benefit from the Tanan link."
"Which company?" Jack asked. The woman seemed thrown off.
"It's called Parallelogram Enterprises," she explained. "We're based in New Robloxia's Southern Business District."
"Alright, now that I've heard all your stories," Jack said, stepping back, "it's time to determine who among you, if anyone, is the killer." He thought about what had just been related to him. The banker's story rang immediately as plausible. Robloxian Robux Bank had several dozen finance reporters, assigned to correspond with different blogs. Jack had heard Coolman25's name before in a TV advertisement. Apparently, the man had tried to run for Head of Finances, but was beaten by five different candidates... beaten, that is, until he screamed for mercy. Sally's story also checked out. Spectre Branch and Parallelogram Industries were allied, with Paralellogram creating new state-of-the-art armor for the agents, and Spectre Branch funneling millions of Robux into the company every year. The RAT representative would have had to be approved by ColourTheory himself, so any level of suspicion against him would be unwarranted. But Terry and Gillysuit were unconfirmed. Military uniforms were sometimes sold in New Robloxia for ten Tix every set. And WIJ was notorious for having a highly unorganized high-ranks: case in point, Jared Valdez, who, in one of his periods of hiding before taking up the mantle of JaredValdez4, served as a general in a white theater mask. Jack motioned for the three innocents to move back into the crowd, and looked at the two remainders.
"So it comes down to you," he said. "Your stories, gentlemen, do not check out. You, Gillysuit, what garrison did you first arrive at?"
Gillysuit betrayed a momentary flicker of surprise. "The Blockland outpost just outside-"
"Wrong!" Jack shouted, cutting him off. "Wrong, wrong, wrong! WRONG! You of all people, as a soldier of Robloxia, should know where ya first join up as a cadet! Cadets report directly to the Admin Island central garrison when they apply, didn't you know that?"
"Yes sir-"
"No you didn't, and you have NO right to call me sir," Jack interrupted. "You've got a hole in your explanation I could drive a freakin' UFO through, Gilly. Why'd you lie to me? 'Cause you're hiding something... an attempted hit, maybe?"
"Tha-that's bull," Gillysuit protested.
"Could be, could be," Jack said, softly but clearly enunciated so every syllable sunk into Gillysuit's brain like a rusty nail. "Could most definitely be. I doubt it, though, because you've already given yourself away with that frankly ridiculous slip-up. Now turn around, and I'll slip on the cuffs, and we'll put you in the holding cell, okay?" Gilly, a defeated man, slowly turned and placed his hands behind his back.
Jack turned to place Gilly's wrists in handcuffs. As he did so, he heard a soft little noise from Terry, the rustle of clothing. He heard Helen, nearby, begin to run in his direction, and John shout from his lookout balcony, "HE'S ARMED!" The bullet from Terry's Mauser pistol shot out with a crack and buries itself into Jack's shoulder.
Pain.
As he fell, it amassed behind his vision.
So much pain.
He hit the ground front-first, as he had been taught, so that he didn't bleed out from the bullet wound. Sounds were muffled as if through cotton. He heard Gilly running away, and heard more gunshots from the other support staff and some of the onboard Admin Guards. Terry now fell beside him, dead. Jack struggled to maintain consciousness as the pain roared from his bullet wound, and unholstered the shiny gun. He slowly took aim, his arms shaking. Gilly was heading towards the exit door. Jack pressed down on the trigger, but it was a weak press, and the recoil of the shot forced the gun backwards and out of his fingers. The bullet ricocheted off a wall, completely missing Gilly, who escaped unscathed.
"Bro!" John knelt down just inside his range of vision, which was slowly tunneling into darkness. "C'mon, please don't go like this, man!"
"... A-Admin no... don't let it end like this..." Jack groaned.
Did I really just say that? That's so clichéd and pointlessly melodramatic, I really must be dying!
And then, for a short while, he did.
