Chapter Twenty-Four
REVELATION
"What kind of games are you playing?"

Lieutenant Ginjee is taking a breather on a sofa in the corridor just outside the Decimater's sickbay. Several of the less seriously wounded also mingle about, waiting for treatment. An AutoDoc(tm) technician is plying a clipboard amongst them, gathering details of their injuries. A sudden commotion down the hall silences the group. Two stringent Frak Craks stride into the foyer.

"This area must be cleared!" one of them informs. "Let's go! Everyone move, out of the hallway!"

There is some grumbling as the Frak Craks urge people into the small examination rooms next to the AutoDoc(tm) bays. Curious about the motives of the Frak Craks, Ginjee moves into a room along with the others.

Inside, she positions herself near the door, listening intently. After a couple of minutes, the sound of boot heels fills the hallway and a group passes through the area. Ginjee cracks the door for a peek.

Retreating down the hall are two Frak Craks and a Lieutenant dragging an apparently unconscious detainee. Definitely the uniform of a captain. She starts out farther into the corridor, but is forced back by a second group of soldiers. This time there is one Hornhead, stumbling along with the aid of another, his arm wrapped in blood-soaked rags. The pair go immediately into an AutoDoc(tm) bay. Behind them is another pair struggling to carry a body, that of her commanding officer, Major Hugh Wu Su. They turn into the door of the morgue. Ginjee slips quietly from the crowded room, then steps briskly out of sickbay.

Colonel Dwayne Itchtrong shoves High Commander Supreme Dashe Snoyan into the Deluxe Guest Quarters(tm). The door slides shut behind them, engulfing them in a darkness broken only by the solitary desk lamp. Itchtrong surveys the room, eyeing the two high-back chairs facing the view port. One chair swivels, revealing Mirty Fuegg, the Observer.

"Fuegg," Itchtrong grunts, jerking Snoyan back, "what the hell is the meaning of this?"

Snoyan pulls away sharply, glaring at Itchtrong, who raises his pistol at the High Commander Supreme.

"No need for that, Colonel," begins Fuegg, "you're both relieved, your services are no longer, uh, required."

Snoyan makes a move to speak, but thinks better of it and remains quiet.

Itchtrong swings his aim to Fuegg. "What kind of games are you playing?"

Fuegg raises his arms. "No worries, just take it easy. When the, uh, New Order is established, you'll both have prominent places within it. I never forget good work."

Itchtrong shifts his weight, uncertain of Fuegg's apparent sincerity. The door opens behind them and Lieutenant Flinnff enters.

"Ah." Mirty turns his attention to Flinnff.

"South is secure on the bridge," Flinff informs. "How did you know he was here?"

"Through careful observation one can know everything."

Snoyan and Itchtrong watch the friendly exchange between the two men.

"I suppose Flinnff has been in on it all along?" asks the Colonel.

"Of course not. Our arrangement occurred just recently, when it seemed that a collaboration would be, uh, beneficial to both of us."

Gladius and Geronimo have been winding through a maze of service passageways and are stopped at a vent, checking the corridor beyond.

"Looks quiet," observes Geronimo.

"Good." Slate carefully unhinges the grate, sets it down, and flips out onto the corridor floor. He raises the BIGGER GUN(tm) and presses himself into the recess of a doorway across the hall. "It's clear, come on."

Geronimo attempts to flip out, but his Prompt O'Sting(tm) pole gets caught up, snagged across the grate opening. He flails, dangling, trying to jerk himself free.

"Quit screwing around," orders Gladius.

"I'm not," replies Geronimo innocently, slapping at the pole. He pulls free of its strap and tumbles to the floor with a loud crash, the pole dropping back into the vent. Gladius steps out into the corridor, helping him to his feet.

"Hey!" shouts a voice from down the hallway.

Slate and Lavoriss look up. A Frak Crak is rushing toward them.

"What are you two doing in here?" The Frak Crak reaches for his weapon.

FFFRRRROOOAAARRRRRSSSSHHHH!!!

Gladius lets loose with the BIGGER GUN(tm), sending a spew of flame down the corridor. The trooper hits the deck, the fire searing his back.

"Move it!" Gladius shoves Geronimo in the other direction and they break into a sprint.

WHA-WHUP! WHA-WHUP!

"Shit! They've sounded the alarm!" Geronimo draws his Hand Cannons(tm) as they reach a junction.

"This way!" Gladius rounds the corner and races off, Geronimo in tow.

Fuegg confers briefly with his partner, still facing away in the other chair, then returns his attention to his military charges.

"Sounds like they've located those pesky garbage men that have been giving everybody such, uh, trouble. Why don't you all go help apprehend them. Dwayne, you may even interrogate them, if you like."

The Colonel scowls at Fuegg, turns, smacks the door release, then quickly exits followed by High Commander Supreme Snoyan and Lieutenant Flinnff.

Gladius stops in his tracks, then quickly backs into Geronimo, pressing them both into an alcove.

"What the fu––" A meaty hand is smacked tight around Geronimo's mouth. Gladius points to Itchtrong, Snoyan and Flinnff exiting a room several meters down the hall, the door shutting behind them. They head off down the corridor, away from the two garbage men.

"That must be it," whispers Gladius, checking the BIGGER GUN(tm).

Geronimo readies his Hand Cannons(tm). "Let's do it."

They slink up to the door of the Deluxe Guest Quarters(tm). Gladius passes his hand over the release.

Nothing.

"Fuck it," blurts Geronimo.

BWAM! BWAM!

He shoots the panel. The resulting blaze of sparks disables the locking mechanism of the door and, with a little effort, Gladius is able to slide it open. The two men lunge into the room.

Geronimo punches on the harsh overhead lighting and levels the Hand Cannons(tm). "Freeze, fuckers!" he roars at the high-backed chairs, which again face the view port, a thin curl of cigarette smoke rising from behind one.

"All right you two," begins Slate, "turn around, nice and slow."

One swivel-chair swivels, revealing the round-faced form of a man wearing a checked flannel shirt and suspenders, squinting to avoid the tendrils of smoke that rise from a stubby cigarette butt tucked in the corner of his mouth.

"Fuegg!" Gladius is shocked at the ultimate betrayal. Mirty Fuegg, the president of the Interstellar Detritus Reclaimers Union, an evil mastermind. Slate's step begins to falter.

"Hey, Slate, is it?" Fuegg eyes the barrel of the BIGGER GUN(tm).

"Should've known," Geronimo says, shaking his head. "I never liked you when I was a Union man, workin' for the Company."

The other chair spins to reveal the countenance of Snax Mawhoooba, an odd-looking appendage deftly working a Loredo Remote X Press Control Console(tm) on his lap, overriding the Decimater's main systems. "Hello, Slate."

"And Snax, you pod-toed pusbag." Gladius's face reddens, he begins to shake.

"No need for, uh, violence, boys." Fuegg's eyes flick from the BIGGER GUN(tm) to Gladius's contorted face. "I'm here as a representative of the Union. You boys have done a commendable job breaking up this, uh, terrorist thing and we, Mister Mawhoooba and myself, want to extend our gratitude."

Snax nods.

Gladius is gasping, finding it hard to concentrate. Sweat beads form on his brow. "Mister Mawhoooba?"

"Yes, Mister Mawhoooba works for the Interstellar Detritus Reclamation Company as a, uh, Special Advisor to the Staffing Resources Department. He went, uh, uh…" Fuegg searches for the right word.

"Undercover," interjects Snax, "to observe the top IDR operative in action. Your handling of this terrorist situation was magnificent. I must say, Gladius, I am very impressed with your performance. We really need your kind of role model to boost morale."

"He sounds different, Gladman," Geronimo observes. "How come Snax doesn't sound as stupid as he did?"

Tremors jerk through Gladius. "He isn't stupid, Geronimo, he isn't stupid at all. We've been screwed by everybody!"

Slate lowers the BIGGER GUN(tm), letting it hang loosely from his side. There is a moment of apprehension as the four beings watch each other. Then, Gladius starts forward, heading for Snax. He stops short when Fuegg bolts from his chair, produces a Zipper(tm), and rams it to Slate's temple.

"Like I said, boys, no need for, uh, violence."

Geronimo's fingers itch on their triggers, wanting to blast Fuegg, but Gladius is blocking his line of fire. Gladius glares at Snax, who grins sardonically back up at him.

"Put the guns down, boys," requests Fuegg.

Suddenly, Flinnff barges into the room with three Frak Crak Assault Squad troopers. Geronimo spins, diving to the floor, his guns blazing. Two of the troopers take hits and go down. Flinnff and the healthy Hornhead dive to either side, ducking behind furniture.

Mirty tightens his grip on the Zipper(tm), watching the Frak Craks to see what will happen next. Gladius decides not to wait, slams his fist into Fuegg's hand, forcing the Zipper(tm) toward the ceiling. A shot goes off, drilling into the overhead lighting console. It pops in a shower of glass, fizzling momentarily, and then plunging the room, once more, into the dim illumination of the desk lamp.

Gladius yanks on Fuegg's arm, pitching him forward, and another shot zips from the Zipper(tm). This one rips into the Loredo Remote X-Press Control Console(tm) on Snax's lap. Wires within begin to arc, spewing sparks, belching smoke and lighting up Snax's horrified face. He pushes his chair back in a panic, flinging the burning console from his lap.

The room begins to fill with smoke. Slate smashes Fuegg's hand against the edge of the desk, forcing the Zipper(tm) to sling across the room, and then leaps over the desk to hide behind Fuegg's swivel chair. Fuegg, in a rather vulnerable position, drops to the floor and scampers on his hands and knees in the direction of the Zipper(tm).

The Frak Crak behind the couch pops his head up and Gladius unleashes the BIGGER GUN(tm). A torrent of liquid nitrogen belches from the barrel and instantly freezes the Frak Crak to the couch.

Flinnff returns fire in the general direction of the desk lamp, but is unsure if his shots are finding their mark in the poor visibility.

A huge plume of fire from the BIGGER GUN(tm) flares into the middle of the room, briefly illuminating it. Flinnff decides he is underpowered. There is a scuffling noise as bodies clamber over the furniture. Gladius spies a dark silhouette bolting through the door and crouches down behind the swivel chair.

The room goes silent. A brief moment passes.

"Geronimo? You okay?"

Lavoriss has bunched himself up under a Noodifilak Throw Rug(tm), the lush, thick folds providing cover. He tosses the rug off, listens for a moment, then darts to the open doorway. One of the Frak Craks is dead of a Hand Cannon(tm) wound, one is frozen solid, the other is missing, a conspicuous trail of blood drippings revealing his flight. Geronimo steps through the door into the hall. At the far end, he catches a glimpse of Snax and Fuegg disappearing around the corner.

"They're gettin' away!" he shouts, bolting after them.

Gladius, BIGGER GUN(tm) in hand, scrambles over the desk and barrels after Geronimo.

The garbage men race down the corridor, rounding the corner to see Fuegg and Snax at another intersection further along the hall. The two rotund figures glance back, then split out of sight in opposite directions.

"You take care of Snax," says Gladius, "I'll deal with Fuegg."

"Right."

The pair charge after them, separating at the intersection.

Geronimo rounds the corner into a long straight hallway. Snax is visible at the far end of it. Stopping, Geronimo trains his sights on the fleeing alien.

KAPHWACK!!!!

A shot just misses Geronimo's head, the slug burying itself in the wall. He dives long, to the floor, and rolls up against the wall. Flinnff is rushing up the hall behind him. Geronimo takes a wild shot at him, striking the ceiling above Flinnff's head. Sharp splinters spray down onto Flinnff and he stumbles, dropping to his knees and clutching at his eyes. Lavoriss scrambles to his feet and continues his pursuit.

Gladius bursts around a corner just in time to see an elevator door whisk shut between him and the pudgy form of Mirty Fuegg. Slate races to the elevator, determines that it is going up. He yanks open the door to the adjacent stairwell and begins climbing, three stairs to a stride.