Atomic Strike

CHAPTER 1: QUESTIONS

"...so your day job consists of flying around the galaxy in a corvette..."

Betty turned quizzically to look at Noah, and, remembering her surroundings, turned to check the quiet, empty North American suburban street for eavesdroppers. Satisfied, she spoke.

"We call it a star cruiser, Noah, but I think you could call it a frigate or patrol boat – it's definitely not a capital ship."

"...a space cruiser, responding to military emergencies by conducting naval engagements and light infantry battles."

Betty frowned, annoyed that her friend thought of her as a mere soldier, and began.

"Well, a lot of my missions actually involve rescue and relief operations, but yes."

"And the forces available to you consist of..."

"One robot, one helmsman, one lightly-armed spacecraft, an armory's worth of light and medium weapons, and me."

Noah quizzically scratched his head.

"Not much of a force, considering the scale of the operations you're sent to conduct..."

"We punch way above our weight, yes."

Noah, his interest piqued, continued his barrage.

"How large exactly is your organization?"

"I'm... not sure. The Galactic Guardians are pretty heavily compartmentalized."

"Your organization doesn't sound like a regular military..."

"It isn't. Admiral DeGill commands a security garrison for HQ, I trained with regular military, and a lot of my gear is mil-spec, but the Galactic Guardians aren't regular military."

"What exactly is the role of the Galactic Guardians in the uhhh... governmental structure?

"According to what I was told in Basic, the sheer size of the Galaxy makes true centralized government impossible..."

"Even with faster-than-light-travel?"

"Noah, the Local Group is ten million light-years across, and has nearly one-point-five trillion stars, billions of which are populated. Galactic government isn't centralized - most planets run themselves with minimal interference, and enforcement of what few galactic "laws" there are – mostly trade and sophont rights laws – is pretty sketchy. Our job is to stop that lawlessness from descending into complete anarchy – and represent Galactic civilization wherever we go."

"Sounds important."

"A good analogy might be the Marshals of the Old American West. Like the Old West, the galaxy is too big to run properly, and all the government can do is send in the occasional visiting Marshal and hope for the best."

Noah raised an eyebrow. As one of the few sources of law and order on the lawless American frontier, many Marshals of the Old West had acquired fearsome reputations – and earned the respect and admiration of the populations they served.

His friend's appearance on galactic television (well, 3-V) suddenly made much more sense.

"A space marshal with kiloton-yield energy weapons, combat armor, and an intergalactic spacecraft. Sounds like something from those old "Space Patrol" stories."

"Those authors pretty much nailed it, I guess..."

Noah suddenly had a very unpleasant realization, and frowned.