Drill Seargent Jeffery Peters could leave... but he was now stuck in Marvin's exoribant payroll. He watched as the whole Camp Zero Plateau collapsed in on itself... as Marvin's shuttle, The Stranger In A Strange Land headed toward the distant Infinite Rage Peters wondered what those nukes were actually for... Not destroying the base in a drug-related rage. The name of the ship really did fit his personallity... Peters sighed as the cramped crew transport landed on the deck of the Infinite Rage. It was a beautiful ship on the inside and the outside. He'd landed in one of the VIP Flight decks. Marble columns rose to the ceiling far overhead. Grand gold-tinged steps ran up from the shuttle bay, encrusted with sparkling crystals. They were circular, with two of the massive columns on either side, leading to a foyer-type area just outside the bay. The Soldier's boats also landed in the bay, and they wandered around looking at the looming grandure of the place. They'd never seen a ship like this. Let alone a Luxury liner...
The soldiers were lead to their dorms to the left near the back of the ship, close to the non-luxurious crew quarters. A sign read "Bridge" to the right perpendicular to the stairs. The luxurious interior continued, down the hall. Granite floors complimented stone-paneled walls, down the hall he could see a security booth. Peters approached the T junction and the guards saw his uniform insignia and pointed him to the "Bridge" hall. The offshooting hallways were "Research", and "Suites". Those guards were quite heavily armed, Peters noted. Where the hell could Marvin get Daunman 5 Autoblasters? he thought. He continued down the hall, Marble floors shined. A few of Marvin's "Indentured Servants" as he oh-so-affectionately called them were seen scrubbing them. Finally, the Bridge. The man-sized door swished open and there were more guards. They parted as Peters walked between them. The Bridge was as luxurious as the finest Manhattan loft. On a Granite-and-polished-stone table, sat an upgraded TACMAP, with a holographic model of Omega-49 floating not far above. Crewmen stood near it observing planet stats. Consoles that lined the walls were filled with pictures of the stars, planets and nebulae of Omega-49. Gauges, graphs, and charts. The Commander's station was quite a sight. It was a raised platform with a rather narrow walkway jutting out over the rest of the 2-story bridge, with a bulbous top wherein the chair stood. Crystal glass railing lined the edges, tinged a light blue. Gem encrusted steps led up to it. Drill Seargent Peter's shoes clacked on the steps.
Marvin's bald head was slightly visible above the chair top. Peters stood to the side of Marvin in his throne-like chair. Marvin was slouched down, his eyes low. That cardimine junkie! Peters thought. Boxes and boxes of Synthetic Marijuana stood stacked near the Commander's chair, Empty needles lay on the large armrests.
"Ahem" Peters cleared his throat, Marvin payed no attention.
"Marvin?" Peters said, now louder.
Marvin slowly turned his head, and looked at him. "Im sorreh!", "What did... you want?"
That euphoria seems quite powerful. Peters thought. I'd got to try me some...
"Its been a month," Peters said. "My payment... is due."
"Ahhhhh, Right, right, right." Marvin said, and reached a pulsing vien-stricken hand into his pocket, and retrieved a credit chip, and handed it to Peters.
Peters relaxed in his bunk. It was larger than the soldiers, but still terribly cramed. He flipped the credit chip in his hands for a while, then fell asleep.
Peters sat inside a landing shuttle. Gran Canaria Central Spaceport was a busy place. Commodity traders barking orders to the crew, hungry Corsairs looking at the boxes and boxes of exported Food Rations. Peters walked through a mass crowd and inserted the chip into an ATM. Peters jaw dropped when he read the text...
CURRENT BALANCE
$1,080,000,000
This must be a mistake! Peters thought, having trouble holding back the growing giddyness.
He'd then withdrew his payment... and then thought about all Marvin put him through. Dragging his ass to a dusty plateau to train a bunch of gung-ho Mercenaries for a possibly phsycotic sociopathic arrogant Cyborg with a lust for luxury and drugs. It all seemed to much. He also withdrew 10,000,000 credits for his troubles. Peter's then retired to the Infinite Rage, looking for Marvin to return the chip.
This time, however, the chair was empty. Marvin's drug paraphanalia lay still on the armrests. A holographic pedestal at one of the ends of the armrests glowed with a greek-god looking character on it.
An AI? Peters thought. So Marvin does have a lover after all! he thought smugly to himself.
"Do you know where Captain Marvin is?" he asked at the AI's back as it quickly turned around.
Heartless simply pointed and said "In his office".
Peters followed her finger to another Marbled corridor, with various doors labled "First Lieutenant" and such.
Finally, a door at the end of the hall labled "Captain". He opened it and revealed a rather small Mahoghany paneled office, similarly decorated to the Camp Commandants office at Camp Zero, but more ... Extravagant. Marvin sat at the same desk he did in Camp Zero, this time filled with various boxes, datapads and half-empty plastic cups. One wall was lined with bookshelves, Peters spotted everything from Mien Kampf to the Bible to historical works and biographies. Without looking up, Marvin said "Yes?"
"Your credit chip, sir." Peters sat it on the desk.
"Ah, yes" Marvin said, and pocketed the chip. Peters walked out of the office, a sense of satisfaction on his face. The papers on Marvin's desk also seemed to be... Invasion plans.