Backwards Logic
Emperor Palpatine
Backstory, Part One
Backstory, Part Two
Backstory, Part Three
Backstory, Part Four:
The seas were rough when the helicopter carrying Chaplain Chandrasekhar and the Sniper Nahkarma returned to the Impending Retribution. Aside from the deck pitching every way imaginable, visibility was close to nil and made landing the helicopter that much more difficult. With a storm raging overhead and the ship operating under war conditions, there was little to no light casting anywhere on the landing pad, save for one drenched sailor holding a pair of light sticks in his hands to guide the clumsy helicopter in. After numerous attempts and subsequent wave-offs, the pilot did finally manage to expertly land safely.
As soon as the wheels touched down, a large party of armed men came out to greet the returning survivors. Originally apart of a top secret mission to kill the Insurgent Leader, also known as "The One," after the mission's failure the remnants of Commander Backwards Logic's squad had descended into controlled anarchy in a desperate attempt to oust the traitors that helped sabotage the mission from the get-go. Command had a number of questions for these lone survivors - any sort of 'welcome home' reception the two were expecting clearly had to wait.
They instead were greeted with a gruff pat down while a handful of Marines looked on, clearly wary of the two remaining. Nahkarma grudgingly handed over his sniper rifle, which was then passed onto another for safekeeping and inspection. While that transaction took place, another located a Holy Book on the Chaplain's person and asked the Book be handed over.
"Is it really necessary," implored the Chaplain, "to take away my copy of the Holy Scripture?"
Following an exasperated sigh, the Marine allowed Chandrasekhar to hold onto his book. After all, he was a man of faith. "Thank you," came the response from Chandrasekhar. "May God be with you."
The two were led downstairs to a bleak looking compartment, best described as an interrogation room within the ship's Brig. The two were escorted into the spartanly dressed room and were told to sit in the metal chairs that awaited them. Inside an adjacent room, Captain Charles Whitower, commander of the Retribution, looked at live video feed of the two. "Is it really necessary to do this now?" asked one of his aides. "The guys have been through hell the past two weeks." Judging by their body language, Whitower had a hard time believing the last statement. He would have expected there to be fidgeting, some whining, some sort of argument from the two wondering why they were being treated as they were. But nothing. Not a sound. They were very calm. Way too calm given the circumstances.
Whitower entered the room and stood near the far wall, back partially turned to the suspicious characters sitting at the empty table in the center of the room. Thunder crashed outside, a low rumble slowly filling the room and dissipating slowly. His mind turned. Something wasn't right and he knew it, but he couldn't let on to the others, lest they get suspicious and clam up. He started slowly.
"I know this is probably isn't exactly what you had in mind for a reunion." He paused. "But I'm certain you understand regulations are regulations, and there's a number of folks higher up the food chain than me that have a lot of questions for you two."
Nothing. Nahkarma looked distracted, but Chandrasekhar seemed fairly engaged. He turned to the Chaplain and continued.
"Ultimately, I just want to make it easy and get this over with. So I'll start at the beginning. After the initial drop, what went on?"
Chandrasekhar met his gaze and began, illustrating how one paratrooper's parachute failed to open. He went on and elaborated on how Commander Logic divvied up his forces to cover the town. He then described the opening salvos of the Insurgent Snipers and how they pinned the bulk of his forces in place until air support could arrive. Chandrasekhar knew lying at this stage was pointless, but he was quickly coming up to the parts he'd have to... embellish some. Namely the time when Nahkarma put a sniper round through Logic's skull. To his right, he could see Nahkarma starting to squirm just a bit. Whitower noticed it as well. Armed with this unease, he pressed forward.
"When exactly was the order given to retreat? What circumstances surfaced made the mission a failure and that retreat was the only remaining logistical option?" Nahkarma was having a hard time keeping his wits about him now. Chandrasekhar did his best to hide his disappointment at his friend. It wasn't blatantly obvious to the casual observer, but anyone trained in spotting nervous ticks could have picked up on Nahkarma's subtle movements.
"Well," Chandrasekhar continued. "Our Commander took a round to the temple and ordered the retreat in his dying breath. We were getting shredded at this point anyway and there was no evidence to suggest - "
Whitower raised his hand slowly as if to comfort the two and say 'that's enough.' He was getting somewhere now. "Later on that night and into the next day, after the retreat was completed, what happened?"
"One of our own was killed during the night by a gunshot wound to the temple. Our coroner - he'd just finished examining Logic's body when it looks like he was murdered." Chandrasekhar paused. "We could tell it wasn't from insurgents, or we all should have been dead at that point."
"But you weren't killed then," Whitower interjected. "Which meant... what exactly?" Truth was the Captain already knew the answer. He wanted to hear it from the others.
"Meant the Private was killed by one of our own. A traitor." Chandrasekhar did his best not to flinch at the word 'traitor.' He never considered himself to be one, but he knew if he worded it any different Whitower would have gotten suspicious. Little did he know Whitower was already starting to piece things together.
"How did the squad react exactly? What course of action did everyone take?"
Chandrasekhar went on to explain the 'military court' style of proceedings where accusations were slung around and at the end of the day they'd either kill or tie up whoever had the most votes to his name. He went on and elaborated how these traitors would kill just about every night and as time ticked on Insurgents inside the squad planned ambushes and exploded bombs to maim others. He mentioned how merciary the medic was ousted as a Rogue Agent. He went on to describe the cook's poisoning of the Night-Watchmen in vivid detail, but Whitower brought him back to the topic at hand - the night kills.
"After merciary was executed. Did these attacks subside any?"
Chandrasekhar saw his opening. "Yes they did," with maybe just a touch too much enthusiasm in his voice. "That following night there wasn't any kills!"
"And the night after?" Whitower pushed onward.
"There was one, but it was the Insurgent Leader that got killed. Did everyone a favor I'd say."
Whitower didn't exactly care about 'who' at this point though he couldn't exactly argue against the 'doing everyone a favor' bit. "But the kills did continue. And by this point there are, what, six total men left? What became of them?"
Chandrasekhar knew he had to lie. Truth was Nahkarma killed the pilot with yet another sniper round and afterward Chandrasekhar snapped the neck of the surgeon. So he modified things a bit and claimed the Thunderfall missiles obliterated all four of them and that he and Nahkarma were lucky to escape the blast. Chandrasekhar sweated for the next few tense moments. Had Whitower sent anything to check the crater where the missiles exploded...
But Whitower relented and nodded his head. "Very well." He began walking towards the doorway. As he was halfway through exiting he paused, slowly raising a finger to his chin as if he'd just thought of something. "Oh, there's one more thing."
Hanging in the corner of the room hung an old CRT TV, obviously something that hadn't been dusted in quite some time. It clicked on and while the quality wasn't great, you could barely make out four figures on screen. It looked as though there had been an explosion recently, and one man came out from behind a rock, hands to the sky as if to celebrate. Another lay on the ground, apparently bleeding profusely while another tended to him. The fourth was standing a few feet away from all three, seemingly unscathed.
The footage continued. The one with his hands in the air suddenly dropped to the ground in violent fashion. The one currently tending to the injured one got up and looked beyond stunned, stumbling backwards and pointing a finger at the remaining standing figure. It looked like words were exchanged between the two before the remaining figure moved with lightning speed and snapped the other's neck. After his body crumpled to the ground, another figure appeared on screen with a long rifle slung over his soldier, shook hands with the other and the two moved off screen. Nahkarma, now riveted, was pale white.
"All wiped out by the blast, huh?" His words were dripping with anger. "And you thought you could get away with it. What was next? Kill off my entire crew?"
Chandrasekhar, knowing the gig was up, smiled. "Yea, something like that." He crossed his hands in front of his face, elbows now on the table. "You know, I had so much fun dissecting the squad man by man and watching them run foolishly amok." He snickered at the reminiscent thought. "The beauty is it isn't just Nahkarma and myself. I'd be willing to bet there's sailors aboard this ship committed to the cause just as much as we are. I may not live to see it, but we will prevail. And it will be glorious."
Whitower scoffed. "Enjoy your stay in the Brig gentlemen. The MP's ashore will deal with you once we dock back at base." He turned to leave.
Chandrasekhar, showcasing his brilliant reflexes once more, whipped out his now open Holy Book, revealing a cavity that held a small pistol. Whitower, his pilot instincts still humming, spun around himself and was now brandishing a .357 revolver. He pointed it at Chandrasekhar and fired a pair of shots in quick succession.
Two molten slugs emerged from the barrel and tracked toward Chandrasekhar's chest. Chandrasekhar had no sooner raised his small pistol when the rounds impacted home, slamming the Chaplain with so much force it knocked him and his chair backwards and onto the floor. Nahkarma reached for the fallen Chaplain's pistol, now out of his hand and laying on the table, when another shot rang out from Whitower's revolver.
That round exploded home in his temple, spattering the room with a gruesome scene that was replicated only in the footage that had replayed not more than a few minutes ago. Nahkarma's body fell to the ground away from Chandrasekhar and the gun now went tumbling into the far corner. Chandrasekhar, bleeding profusely but still alive, held his hands to his chest in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. He stared down Whitower, teeth clenched to hold back the blood being coughed up as it filled his lungs and seethed at the Captain, partially smiling, partially enraged.
"You're j-just like m-m-me now... We...We'll prevail, the ship will b-be ours, our goal will be - "
"CRACK"
A final round to the temple finished the job. Wiping small traces of blood off of his face and uniform, he exited the room and turned to one of his aides who was frozen in shock and horror at the display of merciless violence. In a voice just above whisper level and still harboring a tinge of malevolence, he calmly spoke.
"Dump the bodies. Clean the mess up as best you can. This ain't over. Not by a long shot."
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