War for the Iron Planet

Chapter 3: Happy Landings

Admiral Grim adjusted the red overcoat that hung over his massive metal frame as he watched the reports from the exploratory attacks come in. Of note was the fact that they were being led by the Wingspan, Admiral Jasken's carrier. That could prove interesting. He would have liked to have avoided confronting the Republic, but they had stumbled upon the planet he'd been searching for, which saved him the trouble of doing so himself. The Republic didn't yet know what secrets "Hittania," as they'd dubbed it, held, and he hoped he might be able to chase them off before they discovered that they were not the first visitors here.

He stroked his "beard," a decorative set of thick chains that hung from his wide metal chin below his skull-like faceplate. The Griffon Republic was putting up a stiffer resistance than anticipated. Any future attacks would have to use much greater force. Still, they had learned what they set out to learn, and the gunships were very pleased to report that the rear-facing stealth missile system they'd installed had taken down Textbook, an infamous Republic pilot. One less boogieman to spook the Collective frontliners was a good thing. What he'd really liked to have seen was Jasken's head on a platter, but taking down an ace like Textbook was a huge bonus in itself. However, they had taken more damage to the guns than Grim was comfortable with. It had been too long since he'd made an example of someone and the crew was getting lazy. He turned to the small team of tacticians and tech support behind him.

"Splatter, why is it that the attacks were not simultaneous?" Grim's tone was imperious and threatening.

"It's the interference from the iron deposits, Admiral," answered a small, mousy robot. "They're interfering with comms and making coordination difficult."

Grim walked over, put his hand on his subordinate's shoulder and leaned in dangerously close, his skeletal visage inches from Splatter's.

"Difficult, or impossible? There is a difference, Splatter. Mistakes like this cost lives." From the reports, Grim didn't believe it made a huge difference, but it was as nice an excuse as any he could think of.

"Difficult, sir. If I had thought of it ahead of time I could have-"

"Can you think of someone on your staff that would have thought ahead? Perhaps Crush. She seems competent."

"I am, sir," said a feminine robot. "I have a few thoughts on how to fix the communications issues, and some other ways to streamline the department besides."

"Uh, sir?" The nature of Splatter's inquiry was never fully explored, as Grim's iron hand shot out and smashed the housing that made up his outer torso. His fingers dug into the body cavity with the follow through. With a sound of rending metal and popping wires, Grim tore Spatter's core out and crushed it in his fist. A robot's core represented their essential being. Made of a rare, naturally formed crystal, only cores had the complex crystalline structure that allowed robots to be sapient beings rather than mindless automatons. Without his core, Spatter was little more than a small pile of scrap.

If Crush had a face made of flesh, she might have smiled. She had been feeding Splatter bad ideas and letting him take the credit ever since she got this assignment. He was an idiot, a drag on the Collective, and a perfect stepping stone.

"Take this scrap to the workshop," snapped the Admiral. "Maybe some of these parts can be utilized in repairing our gunship."

A couple larger robots came forward and started carrying the body away.

"Wait a second," commanded Grim. He stepped over and tore Splatter's head from his shoulders. "I've been needing a paper weight for my desk."

***