The only thing that mattered to me was that some technicians had fed some data into a computer and it had hiccupped and said: "You'll need such-and-such a planet to control such-and-such a solar system, and that will give you a better offensive set-up." Then the computer hiccupped again and said: "You'll need to draft and train Ameet Ruxt to help on this little job of taking over this planet called Terra, or Earth."
That's what it amounted to, anyhow. Consequently I joined the 27th Invasion Force.
"So you've got an application in for transfer to the Statistical Services, huh?" Trontar Hytd, my new platoon three-striper, asked when I reported in for duty with the 27th.
"Yes, Sir." I'd learned, along the line, that one should never give up when applying for a transfer—just keep one in the mill.
"Huh, Borr, this new guy likes to work with figures," Trontar Hytd growled at Hweetoral Borr, my new squad leader. "Thinks he doesn't want to be a Fighter." Trontar Hytd looked at me questioningly.
I didn't say anything. I'd learned a lot in Basic Fighter Course.
"Figures?" asked Hweetoral Borr. I could see a train of thought had been started in the Hweetoral's mind.
"Yeah, figures," snapped Trontar Hytd. "He likes to count things, Borr. Get it?"
"Guess we need all our ray charges counted, for one thing," suggested Hweetoral Borr. "I get all mixed up with them figures."
"After training hours, of course," Trontar Hytd said.