A short chapter of the science fiction blog novel. In this chapter Stone squirms under the pressure to perform for the Supreme commander.
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Words With The Supreme Commander
Stone was lounging in the captain’s chair of a transport; before him was the communications monitor which framed the beautiful face of the Supreme Commander as she spoke. A gang of Stone's men listened out of view on the other side of the hatch.
“Congratulations, Captain Stone.” The Supreme Commander's beautiful face was speaking in a soft purr. “I am sorry to hear that Commander Marx fell. He was a good fighter and leader. We will look into the details of the battle. In the meantime, you have confirmed your position as Captain of Stardiver Four. Your orders are to get it going as soon as possible and to meet the fleet. We must move quickly before the established governments are able to form a counterattack. When will you be able to get the ship on the way?”
“Soon. We are progressing on repairs.”
“Stone. I do now want vague answers like soon. When?”
Stone sat up, his eye flashing back and forth, searching for an answer to give the future ruler of the federated civilizations. “Some repairs are taking a little longer than thought. Maybe we can run at super light within 72 hours.” He lied. He had no idea what repairs were necessary or how long they would take, but he preferred lies as a rule. Truth was power, control the truth and you controlled the power- and Stone loved power.
“You have 24 at most.” Her voice was deep and as hard as glass. “The Stardiver's cargo space is essential to the plan.”
“Yes. Supreme commander. What I meant was that we could be moving in as few as 20 hours and worst case is 24 hours. I am confident in my technical staff.”
“That is more like it. I am going to assign help to you. You have Whitey's Raiders for a start; they are cross trained and are the best at weapons and engineering. Send all other units back. We need reinforcements to take the other Ranger’s ship.”
“Yes, Supreme Commander, but I don't need any help, my men can handle it."
"Stone! I already told you that I do not tolerate my commands being questioned. If you cannot follow orders then I have ten other leaders who will obey, and they all are telling me why they are better for the job than you are. So, do you understand?"
Through clenched teeth, "Yes, Supreme Commander, I will welcome the help of Whitey and his Raiders. Thank you. Stone out.”
"One more thing Captain Stone, make up your mind about which eye you are going to wear that stupid eye patch on and keep it there."
The painfully beautiful image of the Supreme Commander flicked off of the communications monitor.
Stone turned to the waiting men. “Well, you heard her. Get this brontosaur of a ship moving!”
The men looked at each other dumbly.
"What is it? Get going, make the ship fly."
"It's just we don't know what is wrong and how to fix it."
Stone sighed and rolled his eyes. "Do I have to do all the work around here? You, go find Professor Ratts and tell him that I need him to get the ship moving. Meanwhile, you, go to the engines and find out what is wrong with them and come back to me and tell me. You, go find out about the power system. We need to know how to power the engines. You, find some laser welders, space suits, and scrap metal, then take some men to patch up the holes in the sides of the ship. You, get the lights and gravity generators working throughout the ship. Now go, get to work, get the ship running before I have you clapped in irons and sent to the brig without your ice cream."
The men looked around dully.
"Go! Go now! Get to work." Stone pulled out his taser pistol to threaten the men but in his anger and frustration he touched the discharge trigger, it discharged a crackling blue bolt of lightning to the metal floor beside him. The men jumped, turned and fled without realizing that on the floor behind them lay an unconscious Stone whose fake theater boots were not insulated.
* * *
“Four lost, and Twenty-two wounded but walking, two more may not make it. They are on the transport to medical on the captured station.”
“Holy Moses, we got hit hard! Why are my men on transport to the station?”
“They have the only medical available right now, the ship's Doctor was relocated there.”
"I don’t like leaving our boys with these gangsters. Send two of our guys with them, to watch out for them, fake some wounds or something if they have to. I want to make sure our guys are OK. You have the names of the four?”
“Here.” The group leader gave Whitey a scrap of paper with names on it.
Whitey looked at the paper. “Only one had next of kin, is that right?”
“Yes, sir.” Bill leader replied.
“I’ll send a communication to his family and forward his pay. Split the pay of the other three among the men.”
“Right.” All understood the rules of Whitey’s Raiders. Though they were soldiers for hire and operated like a business they had high ideals; they stood together and looked out for each other.
“The men will want to know about services, sir.” Mike from B team asked; three of the four were his team.
“I know B team is really close and I am sorry. We all are sorry, but this is what we do. Let your men know I will arrange something as soon as I can. Bag the boy's bodies and bring them with us. We won't leave them here, Stone and these idiots will maroon this ship in no time and you know what will happen then."
The men nodded slowly. Stories of spacecraft gone adrift were well known; all followed the same scenario, whether through incompetence or malfunction a craft drifts until food runs out and hungry men turn on one another in ratlike cannibalism.
"We will do 'funeral at sea' near a star, but we have a few other things to deal with, right now. What about the prisoners? What is happening?”
Joe spoke up. “The usual sir. The rangers took heavy losses. Over forty dead and about a hundred wounded.”
“What?” Whitey was shocked. ”Why were there so many on this ship, it is only a passenger cargo ship?”
The men shook their heads. “We thought the resistance was heavy too.”
"Forty dead," Whitey shook his head. "Are we accountable for any?"
The three shook their heads. "No," Joe said. "Your orders were to go soft and use riot ammo and not to go live unless it was a dire situation. But we saw Stone's men using excessive force."
"You mean murder." Whitey was grim. "I want all the files from our battle cams. If there is a war crimes trial we will need it. What about the deathbots? Have we seen anymore?"
"Not in the last five hours," Bill said. "We killed three by ourselves and teamed up with the rangers to kill another Seven. We found five that malfunctioned or ran out of fuel. If there are any more they are hiding."
"Download all the men's helmet cameras and give me the files." Whitey said, "Deathbots are a war crime, and a crime against humanity if used against civilians. The law says we have to turn this info over to the authorities."
"What authorities, boss?" Joe asked. "If this really is a revolution and the Red Hand Brotherhood succeeds then they will be the authorities and the same ones who used the deathbots."
"It takes a lot to win a revolution, and I don't see the Supreme Commander having an army that big. Besides, if she does win she will want to pay to keep the deathbots a secret. Think of it as a retirement fund."
Whitey was silent for a moment. “Make sure the prisoners get on board the transports safely. Don't let Stone-butt massacre them or anything. If Stone's mob tries anything then go hot and send them to hell. After the prisoners are away safely then get the men together and find your way back to our transport. Don’t let it go until we all get on it. I am going to go get our pay.”
Whitey left to find a communication center where he could talk alone with the Supreme Commander. He had a few things to say to her.
(c) Adron
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Adron
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