Reddit Stories 2019

Smash Em Up #1

"Billy, what's the word?"

I mounted my steed, an American Paint brand hoverbike gifted by Candle Corp. 'Lighting the way to the future.' Cool toys was one of the few perks of my job. Routine check ups on the terraforming planets was necessary but incredibly dull. Wasn't a lot to do til the planet passed 'breathable.'

"Not to be analytical," Billy said, pushing the Stetson up on his robotic brow, "but oxygen is critical and fauna eremitical. You should be aware that a beacon's flashing over there. It's status now is critical."

"Haha, nice. You used critical twice, though."

I checked my oxygen levels. There was just enough atmosphere to not need my full spacesuit, thank God, just the rebreather. I wore a nice duster to complete my desert aesthetic. In case the eremitical fauna felt like sniffing around, I check my sidearm. Most of it was the standard issue, save the grip. It was made of wood, giving it a fancy look. Billy and I spent our time between worlds tinkering with our tools. The upgrades didn't do much, but they looked nice.

"Billy, change to ABAB. Scan the beacon's area."

"Scanning, Captain Harfield. I'm detecting hostiles in the sector."

"Then we're comin' in hot," I said with a grin on my face. This was the kind of frontier work I signed up for.

"The scan also revealed," Billy said, pausing long enough to prove he acknowledged my order, "a disconnected power protector."

My bike roared over the ridgeline. Drawing my crossbow, I jumped. The gun was named cause the four prongs that sprang out when it charged a shot. The world moved in slow motion as the hoverbike crashed into one of the insectoid creatures around the terraforming device, which looked like a pumpkin sitting atop a tube.

Maybe something more phallic.

I lined up my shot on another bug just as the fourth prong sprang from my pistol. The fully charged shot of blue energy streaked toward my target, punching a hole through its torso. I landed on my feet, surveying the area for more of those creatures.

The remaining turned to goop under Billy's autorifle.

In the background, my American Paint exploded. Hover bikes weren't meant for high speed collisions.

"Looks like I'm ridin' side saddle with you."

"I find your behavior most vexing, since caution and planning you eschew. But please bear in mind our budget is already stressing."

I smirked, offering Billy a look that aggravated his robot mind. "That's just ABA."

"True."

Billy and I walked over to the terraforming device. Hundreds of these beacons dotted every planet in the Andromeda galaxy, turning these violent places into something less violent. It was a centuries long process, but modern technology sped things along.

Billy plugged into the device, pulling its data for the logs. Technically we were supposed to do that for each of them, but there was no point if there wasn't any damage. Billy and my ship could do the same with a five minute scan.

The beacon was mostly fine, but the bug boys had done a number to the casing. Inside the power cell pulsed. A hunk of scrap metal could cover it up long enough for the next inspection.

Candle Corp gave me a lot of neat toys, but they didn't pay me enough to care.

"Danger, Captain Harfield," Billy warned, unplugging from the beacon. A quick transformation and his arm went from USB to gun. The neatest toy. "Hostiles underground."

I pulled out my crossbow, dropping the bike junk. I'd have to weld the the piece on when we cleared the area again. "I thought we cleared them all."

"They were concealed in tunnels all around."

The first of the buggos popped from the ground, meeting a faceful of lead from my companion. A dozen more surfaced. Then a dozen more. That was too many. Without a word, Billy and I raced for the remaining hoverbike. Half the creatures raced for the beacon. The other half swarmed the bike.

"I thought you said they were hermits," I yelled.

"Processing error, I assure you." Billy paused, trying to fit his next sentence into the limitations. The thunderous sounds of his rifle slowed. I made a mental note to put in a hardware request and defrag him when I got the chance.

I hopped on the bike, firing rapid weak shots from my crossbow. Without a full charge, they lacked the power to punch through the bugs' armor, but some well placed shots to the weak bits made up for that. "Forget the rhyme scheme and get us the hell out of here!"

"Will add that to the queue."

"Prioritize," I ordered, as the bike kicked into gear. My report would be short.

The world wasn't ready. Not yet.