Point Zero: Assault Transport

Point Zero: Assault Transport

…

Commissioned by Ichypa

Wordcount: 2500

…

O’Hara met my gaze and I met her own.

“Boss… you’re not joking are you, because it’d be a real terrible time for you to start trying to be funny.” O’Hara’s hands trembled at the data-slate that I gave her. Tears were in the corners of her eyes. “Please… tell me this isn’t some out-of-season joke and that it’s true!”

I shook my head after considering her words for a second.

I clarified that she I wasn’t joking.

She held in her hands her first paycheck as a Verdict officer.

Complete with hazard pay.

“I… I seriously thought you were making a stupid joke about working here for the benefits, instead of being a hero somewhere else… but you weren’t!” O’Hara all but salivated over the data slate and her breathing grew heavy. She was most likely envisioning all the projects she could undertake with her funds. “You’re paid in Credits. Not one or two Credit either… whole bundles of it!”

It doesn’t surprise me that that she is surprised. All emails sent to her for orientation were merely opened instead of actually read.

She most likely believe that her pay would be in Earth’s Credit system, which was based off of human currency. One Earth Credit was a hundredth of a Galactic Credit.

Officers of Verdict were officially Galactic Police Officers under Intrepid laws and payment plans. Originally the officers were meant to be Intrepid, but after several viable candidates were found, they accepted the UN’s terms to have UN-affiliated officers head the police force. Thus, the human officers were paid an Intrepid officer’s salary.

It was a lot of money.

“A lot of money… a lot of money!? This is 100 Credits a month and double if I enter action! I’m absolutely flush with cash now… I have so many projects that I can do, Elliot!” O’Hara began to kiss the dataslate and I was glad that I disinfected it. It would not do for my Agent to catch a cold due to being frisky with electronics. “I’m going to buy a Transport Craft and at least one Zero Point Emitter. I’ll have an escape route for me and mine if this planet ever goes to shit!”

I nodded at her words.

It was a perfectly reasonable thing to do with one’s funds.

I suggested that she set time aside for a trip to orbit, instead of trying to find any Galactic Transports on Point Zero.

Most are very weak and have had their more important FTL components stripped out.

Suddenly, my subordinate took hold of my shoulders with great strength and loomed over me.

“Where… where are these blood things!? Why aren’t we grabbing all of them!?” There was a zeal in O’Hara’s eyes. Her accent returned to her in force as she ceased to act prim and proper within my office. “Point me at’em, boss, and I’ll take out all the gangs keeping ‘em and tear ‘em apart!”

For a moment, I considered telling her to stand down.

But gathering GalTech around Point Zero and bringing them back for study was a valid operation, and it was time for O’Hara to start learning how to lead missions. If I wished to expand my department, get more Agents, and progress in rank… a capable lieutenant was necessary.

This was a prime opportunity for her to begin going down that path.

And, should she succeed and pass her certification test, I will be promoted and I shall achieve my own goa more quickly.

With the thought of acquiring the finest food replicator and all its attachments in mind, I moved towards my desk to begin doing what needed to be done for the operation to take place.

My superiors in the UN will have many questions, but I was sure that it would be given the okay the moment the Intrepid counsel on the committee looked upon in.

…

“Listen to me carefully, you bloody moron. You have two choices as of now: you either tell me where the spaceship is, or my friend tears off your head and jails ya!”

You flick off the blood from your baton, before reminding O’Hara that you are her superior officer.

At the very, very least, she should refer to you by your name.

O’Hara ignores youn in favor of holding her captive further off the balcony to the whistling wind.

“Talk, dammit!”

You sigh as the man blubbers, and you glance at the room behind you.

The Eight Street gang specialized in ballistic weaponry, therefore most of their weapons were not fit for salvage, but you did have interest in their munitions. The replicators within the Verdict HQ could easily break down the ammunition and use their components for multiple types of grenades. Large 40mm grenades in rudimentary tube-launchers could easily be turned into modern fragmentation grenades with multiple settings.

As far as I wa concerned, the more munitions available to my forces the better—

And, the man has stopped screaming, and O’Hara’s holding a torn shirt in her hands.

“Ah.” O’Hara was pale and shocked by the sudden situation, but I readily took action.

The tendril I left next to her just in case something strange happened surged forward, and pursued the rapidly falling man.

I caught him and lifted him back in front of O’Hara, and offered my subordinate some advice.

“Always interrogate at a safe location. Movies are for show. The less risk the better.”

My words reached my subordinate satisfactorily, so I moved onward with my plans to loot the entire floor of weapons, munitions, and possible clues to our target.

O’Hara needed guidance from time to time, but she didn’t need it all the time.

…

“I ain’t tellin’ you nothing, bitch!”

The last member of the Fiftieth spat on O’Hara shoes as he knelt and awaited pickup by drone outside the burning building.

O’Hara’s response was to activate the stun feature on his restraints.

The very, very large man yelped and groaned at the electrical stimulation.

“Mate, I don’t think you understand. Verdict’s allowed to kill. We’re doing this to be nice.” O’Hara gestured towards all the unconscious forms of the man’s subordinates. I stayed out of sight while rifling through their pockets for Credit chips, illegal substances, and other such things. “You tell us where the vehicle is, you spend a few years behind bars, and that’ll be that.  Everything’ll be hunky dory.”

The man panted for several seconds… before spitting on O’Hara’s shoes again.

“I see… well… I guess we’ll just start giving you and yours the “bad” treatment, I guess. Boss?”

At her signal, I drew my weapon and levelled it at the nearest criminal’s neck.

“W-what the fuck are you doing!?”

“Well, sir, you see my boss is very worried about the lack of rooms in Point Zero’s prisoners, so my boss goes the extra mile to help out our fragile infrastructure.” O’Hare sighed dramatically and tossed her gaze my way. “Elliot would very, very much like to have only ninety percent of any criminal taking up space in the prisons.”

O’Hara told me that was an intimidation tactic, but I didn’t understand why that would be the case.

Medicine allowed for the reconstruction of entire bodies, and there was little difference between cryogenically imprisoned as a head and as an entire body.

I simply be temporarily revoking their privilege to a torso and limbs, which would be returned to them after their rehabilitation.

So, I did not at all understand why the thought and explanation made the massive man blubber and begin to cry, just like all the others we tested the technique upon.

I returned to investigating the unconscious forms of the gang members as the man began to confess and answer all of O’Hara’s questions.

At the very least, even though I didn’t understand how it worked, the technique was effective.

In the end, all that mattered was that we were getting somewhere and rapidly getting locations of various GalTech shuttles and transports.

…

For a lunch break, O’Hara and I went to Point Zero Dinner and took a booth for ourselves.

O’Hara ordered a double-hamburger with cheese, fries, and a drink, while I ordered the same, several cheesesteaks, and two steaks with sides of eggs and hash browns.

My subordinate stared at me while I ate the meal.

“So, uhhh, is that enough to make you full, boss?” O’Hara’s words were strange. It wasn’t the disgust I expected, or the morbid curiosity. It was a question born from wishing to know me better. Thus, I was happy to answer it instead of just eating. “It looks like plenty.”

“No. This barely meets a third of my caloric requirements for a meal, but I have supplementary nutrient bars within the transport. They are bland and have no flavor.” I finished the burger and moved on to the first cheesesteak. The ration between bread, cheese, and meat was exquisite, so I had no issue consuming it rapidly. “I would require a two-hour lunch to consume my dietary requirements with real food, and I do not have time for that.

“I can imagine. Eating six hours is practically impossible with your schedule.” O’Hara took little bites of her food. Though she tried to hide it, it was obvious that she lost her appetite while looking tat me eat. I was thankful that she was kind enough to pretend that wasn’t the case. “So why are your nutrition bars flavorless? Didn’t the higher-ups figure out how to make rations tasty?”

I considered not telling her, but decided against it.

“I’m tired of the flavors in MREs. I ate them most of my life in the wastes.” I still recall the flavors sent to our small town regularly. Cordon Bleu chicken. Slow-roasted beef. Porchetta. Perfect flavors… but a single, gummy texture for each one. “I do not want to eat any more of the flavored ones, so the flavorless ones are what I prefer… unless they create one that is ice-cream flavored and stays cold.”

Would I even desire a gourmet food replicator, if my nutrition supplements were creamy, cold bars of delicious ice cream?

The answer was most likely no.

I would be content in life… but apparently such a thing is impossible.

“Woah, boss. Did I bring up some bad memories?”

I shook my head at O’Hara’s words.

“No. I am merely lamenting that not everything is ice cream.”

O’Hara was silent, before she shook her head and made her long hair shake to and fro.

“… I don’t even know why I was worried.”

We finished our lunch after that exchange and moved onward.

…

Fifteen GalTech transports lay in our hanger, all in various conditions from ill-kept to pristine, while UN Drones fluttered over them and took pictures. Come the evening, their recover of the course of the day will be all over the news, along with O’Hara name and my own.
The two of use will be seeing an increase in recognition, funds, and ranks in the near future… and practically no repercussions.

We made sure to be very thorough against all the organizations who utilized the transports by pulling them all out stem-and-all.

I counted at least fifteen arrests for each transport, so more than two-hundred criminals were now behind bars.

It was a wonderful day.

At least, while disregarding the latest news.

“But whyyyyyyyyyyy!?” O’Hara wept and rolled on the ground in her white-coat. The Drones were automated and captured no audio. They also ignored us, so there was no chance of O’Hara’s action appearing on international news. While I was grateful for that fact, I couldn’t help but feel that she would’ve comported herself better if she knew she would be watched by the entire world. “Why can’t we keep a. Single. Bloody. OOOOOOONEEEEEEE!?”

I looked by at the reasons sent by the UN.

Much of it was congradulations on my achievements, and O’Hara’s, but there was a section regarding why we couldn’t salvage the transports.

Written by the Intrepid addition to the committee.

I decided to read it aloud.

“One or all fifteen is an insufficient reward for your efforts. A proper reward will be given.”

O’Hara’s diatribe ended with those words, but her arms still flopped uselessly against the floor.

“That’s pleasant, I suppose, but it’s not a spaceship.” O’Hara complained, sighed, and turned on her side on the hangar floor. “I wanted a spaceship, boss! It’s every gal’s dream!”

I didn’t dream about spaceships.

Could it be due to my immense modifications to my body?

Hm.

No.

That was very unlikely.

“With sufficient funding and time, we will be able to acquire one that is brand new for the HQ.” I filed away the e-mail and put aside the data slate. The various machines within the hangar were doing all they could to repair the transports. Those with certain parts missing couldn’t be fully repaired, btu those without missing portions were being slowly brought to their full potential. O’Hara looked at them longingly from the corner of her eye. “Do not worry. We’ll acquire one eventually.”

My cute subordinate pouted before sitting up.

“I guess, boss. I guess.”

I nodded at the maturity she showcased, as trifling as it was after her outburst, and moved to leave… only for the hangar doors to suddenly open without any input from me or O’Hara.

What entered stunned me… and made it difficult for O’Hara to sit upright upon the Hangar floor.

“Boss… am I seein’ what I think I’m seeing?” O’Hara blubbered as tears of joy fell from her eyes, and I had to take a moment to make sure my own eyes were functioning perfectly. “Because… if it is… I’m the happiest gal alive!”

After verifying that my eyes were working properly, I looked back at what entered the hangar.

It was an Intrepid Combat Transport. A feared sight across the galaxy, and a match for anything in orbit made by humanity, including most of the orbital monitors. It was a sleek, red dagger with eight thrusters embedded in its chassis that pushed it around in its localized gravity field. It had no weapon systems, because it functioned primarily to ram into capital ships and deposit soldiers… but against non-peer opponents it is known that the shuttle has time-and-time again simply barreled through lesser ships with ease.

After a second, I clarified to O’Hara that we were indeed looking at the most advanced troop transport in the galaxy, and that I have become its pilot.

My subordinate said nothing for a second, before taking in a massive breath, and giving me the time to reduce the improvements I made on my hearing.

“WOOO! FUCK YEAH, THAT’S WHAT I’M BLOODY TALKING ABOUT!” O’Hara cheered with all her might, jumping up, and suddenly wrapping her arms around me. She attempted to lift me, failed, and settled for taking my hand and urging me to jump with her. I complied. “We fucking did it, boss! We fucking did ITTTTTTT! YEAAAAAHHHHH!”

As she celebrated with a wide smile, and as she held my hand, an unfamiliar feeling welled up in my chest at her joy and enthusiasm.

Oddly,I felt as though I could keep watching her be happy forever.