Harrick's stealth ship appeared in the solar system of Dirt and the two crew began checking instruments efficiently. Harrick sat in his command chair seated just behind and raised slightly above the control panel and glanced at the results as he scanned the system spread out in front of him. He had loaded the initial report from the IES explorer team and had reviewed it on the journey from the HTI head office.
"Just stay here and gather all the information you can," Harrick commanded his crew, "We have plenty of time. We will move closer once we are ready."
He stood and stretched, then went back to his small personal quarters and monitored progress from his private terminal.
The ship remained on the outskirts of the solar system for three days collating the general systems information as well as recording a large volume of transmissions generated by Dirt. Harrick wondered why the Dirtlings had never considered more efficient communications as he was able to obtain a tidal wave of data broadcast on the open air.
****
Harrick emerged from his room as silent as always and gazed at his two assistants who were sitting back in their chairs sharing bottles of Fizzy and watching some recordings on the video screens.
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.
The two crewmen quickly stood up straight and turned to face their commander, hurriedly placing partly consumed bottles of Fizzy beside their chairs.
"Investigating some of the Dirt information transmissions, Sir!" said Borges, the more experienced crewman, as they nervously watched Harrick slowly approach the control panel still playing the video.
It was one of the transmissions from Dirt and looking at the small timer in the corner of the screen Harrick realised it had been playing continuously for some hours.
"Is it informative?" asked Harrick.
"Yes, Sir," replied Borges, and seeing the look in Harrick's expression added more detail, "It seems to be a documentary of life of the Dirtlings. They seem very happy."
Harrick scowled.
The other crewman, Barry, looked around Harrick at the screen and added, "and this is a good bit. The hero of the story, a Dirtling with a black leather jacket, frequently concerned with his hair style, is always looked up to by everyone else. There he is now riding one of their wild sea creatures."
"The sea creature doesn't look too dangerous," commented Harrick mildly.
"Sir, we have seen other documentaries where those creatures ravage anyone who comes into their territory and have many sharp teeth and a voracious appetite. There have been many reports of Dirtlings being eaten by them on their coastlines," added Barry eagerly.
"Then why don't the Dirtlings do something about these deadly creatures?" asked Harrick.
"We don't know," answered Borges, "They just remove all their protective clothing and go back into the water. It doesn't make sense."
"Is the hero of your transmission a tamer of these wild beasts?" asked Harrick.
"Um, No," said Barry, "This is the first time we have seen him and the sea creature together."
"Hmmm," pondered Harrick.
Barry interrupted, "But he is the Hero. Every time he achieves something great he responds with one of his thumbs in the air and says 'Ehhhh!' and everyone calls him 'Cool'"
"Cool?" asked Harrick.
"Yes, but the weather is no different and looks to be most suitable," shrugged Borges.
Harrick shook his head, "Do we have enough information to start more detailed investigations?"
Borges looked at Barry who gave a non committal shrug and answered, "Probably. There is no evidence of advanced weapons or true understanding of anything beyond their own planet bound existence. There is much speculation of the galaxy and alien life, but it is treated as pure fiction."
Harrick nodded and directed the two crewmen to take their positions, as he climbed into his command chair.
"Let's investigate," he commanded, "But go in as stealthy as possible. No point testing their imagination."
****
Harrick noticed the International Space Station and made sure the ship was placed on the opposite side of the planet. There was no point in asking for trouble.
"Beam me down to that large city," he directed Borges, "I should be able to learn more and find enough hiding places there. Now stay quiet and don't draw attention to yourself. While you are orbiting make a more detailed study of the locals and I will see you in four hours."
Borges saluted, pressed the blue transmission button and watched Harrick disappear.
He turned back to the control panel, pressed the PLAY button on screen and sat back in his chair. Barry passed across a new bottle of Fizzy and holding out his fist with the thumb upright said, "So now we have seen Fonzie jump the shark, what happens next?"
****
Harrick materialised inside a large building surrounded by containers and boxes of all sizes. Some night lights were on which cast an eerie gloom over everything just how he liked it. Pulling a hood over his head, Harrick quickly moved into the shadows and began his explorations. He had four hours to get an idea of what this planet was like and report back to HTI with his impressions. At this point he was dismissive of the locals but he was a professional and had many years of stealth work behind him making this type of work second nature.
The next few hours were spent moving in and around buildings, mostly keeping to the shadows and observing. His communicator was able to translate the locals' speech even though much of what was said was confusing and contradictory. He was still able to gain a broad insight. The general populace had no concerns or thought of the next town along let alone the greater picture of a galaxy wide Federation which surrounded their tiny planet. Most of them didn't even pay much attention to their surroundings. To prove his growing theory Harrick pulled back his hood and walked onto the main street.
Harrick proudly stood six feet tall, with his snout and face bearing a regal stance. He knew from local transmissions that he superficially resembled the local rodent called a rat and he was confident that minor similarity would lead these locals to overlook all the other differences. These minor differences included a crimson red close fitting battle suit, strapped with a bandolier of ammunition and multiple weapons, a belt containing all his stealth gear and high black boots which had special magnetic clamps he could use to climb steel roofs and walls.
The streets was crowded with late night travellers, many clutching parcels or each other in merriment. He walked directly to one group of three young females who were giggling and staggering along holding each other upright.
"Look at that!" one pointed at him with delight.
"Radical, man!" cried another.
"Who are you trying to be?" asked the third girl, stopping and looking up at him.
"I am Harrick," said Harrick in a deep voice, translated beautifully by his communicator, "I am here to take your planet."
The three girls laughed and smiled, and waved as they walked away from him.
An old lady was watching the incident and spoke up as a surprised Harrick watched the three girls walk away, "Don't worry about them, Love. I reckon you look great."
Harrick turned to look at her. She was dressed in rags and held onto a metal cage with small wheels filled with a variety of dark plastic bags.
"Thank you," he replied warily, "Does looking great help one take over your planet?"
"Looking great can help you do anything, Love," she replied and came closer.
"Then why don't you look good?" asked Harrick innocently.
The smile on the old lady dropped in an instant to be replaced with a scowl. She quickly slammed her cage on wheels into his leg and rushed away down the street. "
The
Harrick crouched down rubbing his bruised leg and wondering what he had said that caused the sudden change in reaction when an old man dressed in similar garb to the old lady touched his shoulder.
Harrick flinched away as the man said, "Don't worry, Son. Women are like that."
"Like what?" asked Harrick.
The old man grinned and said, "One moment they're all happy and cheerful and the next they're angry and slamming shopping trolleys into your leg."
"Shopping trolley?" asked a confused Harrick.
"Yeah, shopping trolleys. The metal thing on wheels," said the man, looking closely at Harrick and added slowly, "Son, you're not from round here are you?"
"No," answered Harrick truthfully, "Where is here?"
"You're all dressed for a party in New York and you don't even know where you are? That must be some party!" answered the old man, taking a small brown paper bag from his pocket. He opened the top of the bag and revealed the lip of a bottle and brought it to his lips. With a satisfied sigh, he continued, "Son. Where's the party? You had better get back to it before your pretty costume gets all messed up."
Harrick stood upright and looked as if he meant business.
The old man looked carefully at him and slowly replaced the lid on his bottle and put the bag back into his pocket and put his hands upwards placatingly.
"Now Son, don't get upset at me," he said, backing away, "I was just tying to help."
With that he turned and shuffled away looking occasionally over his shoulder to make sure the strange fellow didn't follow him.
"These people are mad," muttered Harrick to himself as he shook his leg to get the blood flowing after his 'shopping trolley' attack and continued walking down the street.
A short while later he was walking past a dark gap between taller buildings when he heard a voice call out, "Hey, Rat boy!"
Harrick stopped and looked towards the source of the voice. A Dirtling with a stick on fire in his mouth was standing in the shadows looking at him.
Harrick looked questioningly at the Dirtling.
"Yeah, you. Come here," said the Dirtling as he turned and walked further into the dark.
Harrick stealthily pulled out his Laser Pistol and set it to one energy unit strength. That would be enough to dissuade any untoward action without drawing too much attention. He also kept his left hand on the hilt of his Light Sword. This looked to be a promising test of the Dirtling combat skills if he had read the situation correctly.
Once he had passed further into the dark opening something jumped into his back sending him flying forward. Harrick rolled gracefully and brought up his light sword, using his finger to turn it on and a small glow revealed his situation. As he slowly moved his sword in a steady arc, the light reflected on the antagonistic faces of four dirtlings of varying size. The one who had called him earlier was grinning and holding a weapon in his hand.
"Hey, Rat boy," he said malevolently, "You can stop waving your toy light sabre and hand over your wallet. With that type of fancy costume you should have plenty."
"And if I refuse?" answered Harrick looking directly at the Dirtling facing him while noting the positions of the other three accomplices.
"That's not an option," said the leader as he raised his gun towards Harrick.
"OK," said Harrick, leaping to the side and firing his pistol at the gun. The shot was accurate and the leader dropped the melted gun, shaking his hand and yelling, "Ow!
Harrick grinned as he used his light sword to burn the reaching hands and arms of the two who first reached for him and he fired his Laser Pistol at the third causing him to drop screaming with a stream of
"
"Huh," said Harrick as he dusted himself off and put away his pistol and Light Sword.
He exited the dark alone and looked around the street. No one seemed to have noticed the huge commotion going on in the lane he had just exited, yet looking closer he saw furtive glances and harried steps as passers-by moved on past.
"Ah," thought Harrick, "They did see something but don't want to be involved. Perfect."
A short distance away he saw a seat on the side of the road so he walked over to it and sat down. Many passers-by saw him and pretended not to, other stared as they walked past while others waved and grinned at him. Some even did the strange thumbs up gesture the hero of the transmissions used.
"Here am I," he thought, "An alien on a planet that has never seen an alien and everyone is pretending this is a normal everyday occurrence. I had a fight and defeated four hoodlums with advanced weaponry and everyone pretends that it never happened or didn't want to get involved. But the fight was enjoyable and worthy of amateur hunters. Hmmm."
Not long later his communicator beeped and he touched the flashing red icon.
"Boss," Borges said, "We're ready when you are."
"Beam me up," said Harrick and he disappeared from his chair in the middle of a busy New York Street. And no-one seemed to notice.
****
Harrick stood before Patter some time later to present his report.
"Well, Harrick," said Patter brusquely, "Will Dirt work as a Hunter Planet?"
"We did a thorough examination of the transmissions and I visited one of their largest cities to investigate in more detail. The Dirtlings are numerous and I suspect would score better than your reports indicate. If a review is called for they would definitely be classed as Off Limits."
Patter sat up straight. "What? We have already bought the planet. We can't just give it up!"
Harrick stood straight and gave the advice he had been considering on the return journey, "You can probably get away with it if you keep hunts to a minimum and randomly spread around the planet. Dirtlings seem to be very good at dismissing or disbelieving anything that happens elsewhere, sometimes even in front of them if it doesn't match their world view. The general level of combat preparedness is low and the hunting grade would be low to medium."
Patter sat back in his hover chair with a less worried sigh.
"You had me going there, Harrick," he said, "We just have to make it a private hunting planet and keep out the Imperial do gooders. That shouldn't be too hard."
Harrick nodded, but added, "Just don't let the Imperial Exploration Service investigators understand the real story."
"Don't you worry about that," grinned Patter, "I have that side of things covered."