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Klang3I am Lord Klang, victor over the Affini Compact. Today, my dread nemesis, Captain Trifolium, has resigned in disgrace. My mind-taking, fully transistorized Robo-Scorpion armies have taken his ship from him without firing a shot. He deserved a lesson in physics, but received far worse -- a lesson in manners. His replacement is doing her best, but she is no match for the unbound mind of Lord Klang. Today, a ship. Tomorrow, a world. Tuesday, tacos. And then, the universe! My legend shall spread far and wide across the galaxies. Glory to the Klang Empire! Mwhahahaha! No, but seriously. This latest caper cost me fifty percent of my limbs, but it was absolutely worth it. Hey, I still have my dexterous fingers and amazing hair. Plus, right now nobody knows that I still look like, well, me. I can use that, maybe. Besides, I was starting to get old, my knees were starting to hurt, anyway; time for an upgrade. Got to wait for their scans to be over, then mine enough materials from this asteroid to make me a new pair of legs. Should they have claws? Double-jointed knees? Kinetic boosters? We'll see. Brain transplant is, of course, something I could not do. A ruse, fully in "Lord Klang" territory, beyond the expertise of the real Keen. Another prank, a macabre one, perhaps. But hey, it makes for a more memorable story, and in a week or two that's all that will matter. YES! LET THE AFFINI FEAR THE GHOST OF THE BRAIN OF LORD KLANG! MWHAHAAHAHA! But! cybernetic legs will be easy. But -- let the Affini Accord, Terran Compact, whatever, I'm a bit high from the stimpacks, wonder about Lord Klang's fate. I should do another silly video in a few days, just to keep them on their toes. It's only fair, they have kept MY toes. Meanwhile, I stay in my half-sized cockpit, and watch the analog video relayed to me by a sympathising drone. They're unlikely to scan a radio band that hasn't been used in four hundred years. And I will have a piece of chocolate. The video I'm getting from the long-wave transmitter is shitty, but the audio is decent, and it looks like my plan went almost perfectly. Broadcast, robo-scorpions, music video, chaos... I didn't expect this incident to cause Trifolium's dismissal, but the probabilities were -- -- Wait, Val is defending me? SHE got Trifolium kicked out of the captain's chair? Oh my Science! That's so beautiful! She's so clever! I barely had to do any mentoring! Hmm. Low on stimpacks. I'll have to get a move on. What can I do from here? Step one, hide in an asteroid. Wait, data packet. Val wrote me a letter? Screw it, this is a treasure. I'll take the chance of being detected, I must answer. "You were braver than me. Keep being incredible! Camellia needs you. See you someday. I will miss my friends." Where to go now? I could jump again. I could land on Telamon, build a base, leave before I'm picked up. I could... let myself get caught. I could take the long jump, see if there are indeed bigger fish. I am Keen. I am a genius. I am unstoppable, and I will not stop. But for a while, I will, in fact, miss my friends. Operations Report from Trifolium, Ninth Bloom To: Central Bureaucracy, Triangulum Gate From: Trifolium, Ninth Bloom, Former Captain of the A.C.S. Calycanthus Subject: Formal Resignation and Recommendations for Future Actions Summary of Resignation: I, Trifolium, Ninth Bloom, hereby submit my resignation as Captain of the A.C.S. Calycanthus. This decision follows the recent and entirely unacceptable series of incidents involving the Terran terrorist known as Keen, or as he now styles himself “Lord Klang.” His actions, while ultimately insignificant in their impact on Affini operations, represent a blatant insult to our authority and the dignity of this our proud traditions. Incident Analysis: Let me be clear: Keen's so-called "genius" is nothing more than a festering boil on the arse of neurology — an aberration that has proven more of a nuisance than a true threat. His antics did little more than delay our mission by a mere handful of hours, yet his ability to exploit the weaknesses of our crew and evade capture, again and again, is a grave affront to the Affini Compact's honor, as well as my own. This... "Lord Klang" delights in making a mockery of us. He thrives on chaos, disorder, and the humiliation of those who dare to bring order to his deranged world. That I, an Affini of my standing, was provoked into a regrettable display of fury by such a low creature is something I cannot, and will not, tolerate within myself. Therefore, I relinquish my command, not out of defeat, but as a refusal to allow this insolent vermin any further satisfaction. Recommendations for Future Operations: Immediate Suppression of "Genius" Traits: Any sophont, particularly Human or Rinan, displaying traits akin to those of Keen — extreme intelligence paired with insufferable arrogance — must be pacified immediately. The use of potent xenodrugs to dampen their rebellious tendencies and manipulative capabilities should be implemented without hesitation. These creatures must be stopped before they sow further discord within our ranks. Enhanced Psychological Fortification for Officers: Our officers require better preparation to resist the insidious psychological games of these "geniuses." I recommend immediate reforms in our training protocols to prevent any Affini from ever being goaded into emotional compromise by such insidious tactics. We must be impervious to their provocations, now and always. Augmented Ship Security and Countermeasures: The ease with which Keen tampered with our systems, evaded detection, and escaped custody is inexcusable. All Affini vessels must implement more stringent security protocols, and shipwide awareness must be heightened to prevent future incidents of this nature. Final Recommendations and Personal Resolution: Enough is enough. It is clear to me that traditional methods of control and restraint are insufficient against the likes of Lord Klang and his ilk. I formally request reassignment to a small, long-range craft capable of sustained pursuit and interdiction. I will hunt down this contemptible vermin across the stars myself. I will not rest, I will not falter, and I will not allow this stain on our honor to persist! I will chase Lord Klang 'round the moons of Nibia, and 'round the Antares maelstrom, and 'round perdition's flames, before I give him up! He will learn that the Affini Compact does not tolerate insubordination. He will learn what it means to defy us. He will learn that there is nowhere he can run, nowhere he can hide, where I will not find him and make him answer for his crimes! Respectfully submitted, Trifolium, Ninth Bloom Former Captain, A.C.S. Calycanthus RE: Operations Report from Trifolium, Ninth Bloom To: Central Bureaucracy, Triangulum Gate From: Lonicera, Eighth Bloom, Consulting Psychologist Subject: Recommendation for Extended Leave of Absence for Trifolium, Ninth Bloom Following recent events involving the Terran renegade Lord Klang, it is my professional assessment, after consulting with Dr. Gingkoales, that Trifolium, Ninth Bloom, is experiencing heightened levels of stress and frustration, bordering on obsession. While I agree with Trifolium's assessment that the "Lord Klang" incident was ultimately of extremely minor importance, I remind the inquiry board that his training is in starship operation, not psychological assessment, and that his musings should be considered anecdotal at best. Trifolium’s reaction to Lord Klang’s antics—while understandable given the circumstances—has escalated to an unhealthy fixation on the individual. His recent request for reassignment to a long-range craft to pursue Lord Klang suggests a concerning shift from standard protocol and rational decision-making to something akin to a personal vendetta. In light of the above, it is recommended that Trifolium be placed on a mandatory leave of absence, no less than one half standard decade in duration, on a planet specifically chosen for its calming environment and, ideally, complete lack of sharp objects. This period of rest and recuperation is crucial to ensuring Trifolium’s return to a stable mental state, free from the undue influence of his recent experiences. For the health and well-being of Trifolium and those surrounding him, I move that the above recommendation be implemented immediately. Respectfully submitted, Lonicera, Eighth Bloom Consulting Psychologist FIVE YEARS LATER The Terran Accord surrendered to the Affini two weeks ahead of projections, with remarkably little violence, and was reorganized into the Terran Protectorate, a twin of the recently established Rinan Protectorate. Lord Klang, intergalactic terrorist, is still at large and was last assumed to have made his way at least as far as the Triangulum galaxy, where a highly electrically charged planetary atmosphere in an otherwise unremarkable solar system was discovered to pulse to the rythm of the theme from M.U.L.E. until a team was sent to investigate. A few sophonts across the Affini sphere of influence have taken to swear by Klang when physical anomalies or unexplained malfunctions occur. I will not, of course, elaborate further. I, however, have come back. Between deep-space survey trips and... other things, I've taken part-time residence in Rinan space, on a planet that was devastated during the Rinan-Terran war and is now being ecoformed by the Rinan Protectorate with Affini help. The work is going a lot faster, and with a lot more minor accidents, than the Affini are predicting, and I'm happy to say that it's barely my fault at all. Zizania has also moved here; with only a few feralist Terrans remaining, she's decided to branch into Rinan sociology. I apologized to her; we hang out sometimes; she's trying to get me into the soft sciences, I'm trying to get her into engineering, we go rock climbing sometimes (Are vines or mechanical legs better? The science continues!). She's stopped trying to hug me, so that's nice. After getting beat up by Trifolium, I'm not ready to hug an Affini. When I officially reemerged, it was at the offices of the local Bureau of Xenosophont Wellness and Care. Rinans everywhere have happily handed off 95% of their planetary bureaucracy to the Affini, who like it, so this is the closest thing to a governor's office, since the nominal governor is currently doing laps around the moon and wants to figure out how to get back without help because it'd be cheating. I disapprove of the oversized furniture. Affini-sized desks on a Rinan planet? Why, science, why? It'll either intimidate them or convince them that it's a climbing toy! So, go go gadget legs! I raise my height until I could look at an Affini in the eye, walk to the Affini sitting behind the biggest desk, and try to apply for Rinan Protectorate citizenship. A bunch of Rinans scamper in; more sit outside, peeking in. My class. Huh, they do use the furniture as climbing toys! Calendula, Fourth Bloom, she/it, head clerk, takes a moment to recombobulate. Excellent, I got the right person. "Uh... sure, I think we can do that, but... you're human." I smile. Not a threat, not a challenge to the heavens, just a name. Finally. "I am Keen." Zizania runs in, with an envelope. "You're a dumbass! Here, we printed the forms already, don't waste the nice lady's time." "Sorry, Zi." Calendula takes the foms and reads them. "Uh... this isn't a request for citizenship, this is a request for a currently sovereign state to join. We haven't used these forms in... What in the void is the Klang Empire?" I raise a hand. A swarm of tiny robotic pink bats floods the office, to much fluttering and no damage real damage. Other than the interior lights turning to pink, since the robotic critters have perched on the fixtures and their wins are translucent. My class spread out; these are their homework. They work pretty good, only a few collisions and one inflight failure. The office cat pokes the fallen robo-bat; one of my student picks it up, pushes the wing back into its socket, and launches it. This time, it works. I see the Cat Distribution System is reasserting itself. The local office cat is overjoyed at the sudden influx of bats, and goes into hunting mode, freeing up a desk for my students to climb and sit on. I wonder how other beings perceive cats; if I were a Rinan, they would appear large-dog-sized to me, and if I were an Affini, they would remain adorably kitten-sized, relatively speaking, for all their pampered lives. I caught a glimpse of this change in perspective when I made my metal legs height-adjustable. A change in perspective does one good, neh? ".... what's going on?" Calendula is used to being pranked -- by Rinans, who take the attitude of the average housecat when it comes to deciding when it's play time. But this is a little bit past her horizon of complexity. Zizania laughs, and points at me. "He said that doing robo-scorpions again would be boring. Hey, at least these are fluffy. The initial idea was a large influx of cyber-bees. You know, the ones we're using to speed up pollination until the real pollinators have a proper habitat again?" I'm a space engineer, she's an aid worker and sociologist. We're both learning ecology. Calendula looks at Zizania, then at me again, then at Zizania again. "That's... a thing. That just happened. Right. Uh. Is this your floret?" Before Zizania can answer, I do. "No, she's not my floret, she's my bro." Zizania rolls her eyes, then nods. "Yep." Calendula's mind, for a moment, can't process the notion of a human thinking that an affini would think that a human would... no. Just no. Her very ordered bureaucrat's brain just ties itself into a knot for a moment. As intended. I helpfully point to the last sheet in the document, the one already countersigned by the Compact central bureaucracy. Zizania adds, "Just sign here and we'll get out of your leaves right away!" Calendula does. I and Zi walk out. Right outside, a couple dozen Rinans, my class, have gathered to perform their own ceremony. One of their parents, formerly an elder with the Rinan resistence against the Accord, hands me a certificate of citizenship. It's probably homemade, but who cares? It's real, and coming from someone who can give it. I cry a little. Jene, one of my students, FPVs a bat inside the admin building again. Calendula looks at the official paper, then decides to file it as-is. Klang Empire? Pink robot bats? Someone else's problem. All according to kekaku, a nicely chittery Rinan word meaning, roughly, overly complicated, multiply self-connected preprogrammed course of action. We use the bat to invite her to to the impromptu picnic-cum-space-history-lecture that is now taking place, since all of this happened during class time. It's very freeform, like almost everything else around here. I retract my legs to their minimum length, so I'm eye-level with my students again. Calendula joins us. We eat, I get back to work teaching about the parallels and differences between the Terran, Rinan, and Xa'a-ackétøth -- cough cough -- space races. At some point, Zizania asks me, "How did you get the Central Bureaucracy signature anyway? Is it legitimate?" I'm in full teacher mode, and stay with it. Storytime again! My Rinan is a bit slow, a bit accented, but I can just about manage. "Oh, it's legit, but that - was a caper! So, this required a six-stage plan! Let me tell you the whole story. Ready? But be warned! There's a manual orbital docking in it! With no instruments! And I'll make TWO mistakes in telling that bit. See if any of you can catch it, neh? First stage of the plan! Me, tiny ship, no drones. Newtonian planetary approach to..." CATS: All your base are belong to us. CATS: All your base are belong to us. CATS: All your base are belong to us. CATS: All your base are belong to us. CATS: All your base are belong to us. CATS: All your base are belong to us. I am Keen. I am Lord Klang. I am a genius. I am a terrorist. I am a teacher. I am home. |