The story so far: The mercenary leader, Whitey, feels an obligation to rescue a lost child on the ship occupied by pirates. Stone's pirates have discovered a cargo of starfighters in the captured ship but they are disassembled for transport. Tom is a captured civilian and forced aginst his will to help the pirates.
Whitey marched back to the cargo bay followed by his two bodyguards.
"Boss," Ben asked, "why aren't we going with the others to get the girl?"
"Or kill the death-bot?" Blackjack asked.
"I know you boys feel like you are abandoning your teams in a fight, but I want to keep an eye on Stone and his stupid lot. I want to make sure they stay put at the cargo bay so Red's team can rescue the kid without any interference from those pirate idiots.
“Let’s get to work.” It was the first time anyone heard Ratts raise his voice. “Tom, you are smallest, so crawl into the crate where no one else can go. Drag out the smaller boxes and the pieces. Then the robots can cut the crate away from the starfighter. Some of you men give him a hand. I’ll be back in a little while to check on your progress. I'm going to try a start-up sequence on the engines."
“Good to hear that you are on it,” Whitey said as he walked up, "since you know we are drifting."
“What?” Stone turned on him. “There you go again. You act like it is a big deal. We are in no danger. We will get the access code to the computer, or hack it somehow, or go manual.”
White looked around at the men. All of the Captain’s followers were there. No discipline, he said to himself. They'll stand around gawking all day. He made eye contact randomly with the men of Stone's Command. The discovery of the starfighters had a positive effect on them.
“Captain," He said looking at the ceiling as if he couldn't care less. "We are drifting. Auto systems are offline like everything else. My men are taking star readings and we are drifting about 2000 kilometers an hour. In 52 hours we will be in the gravity well of the planet and we will burn up in the atmosphere.” Wide-eyed alarm dominated the faces of Stone’s men. Whitey was gratified, he had attacked his rival and caused the men to doubt Stone’s competence. He showed Stone's men that he, Whitey, knew what was happening and Stone didn’t. “So, Lieutenant Ratts, if you can get the engines running that would be a very good thing.”
Stone was sputtering, he was aware that Whitey had made him look weak in front of his men. "Whitey! I give the orders. Lieutenant Ratts get the engines running."
The grim-faced Dr. Ratts started to leave.
“And then get the starfighters ready," Stone added. "Whitey, get the ship's defenses in shape.” He saw as if for the first time the men standing around gaping at him, their faces held fear. “What are you guys doing standing around here? I want half of you working on getting the starfighters ready and the rest of you to get back to your duties.”
The crowd of men glared at him. "What does Lieutenant Whitey mean that we are drifting?" One asked.
"Hey, are we going to crash?" Another asked.
"No." Another sneered, "We are going to burn up in the atmosphere."
"Common, Captain, What are you doing about this?" Another demanded.
"I am in control of everything." Stone asserted, "It is all under control. Now you men go about your duties. Lieutenant Ratts will get the engines started manually and Lieutenant O'bee will hack into the ship's computer and we will be ok."
The men grumbled. "What about you, Lieutenant Whitey? What do you think?"
"Professor Ratts is more than able to get this ship running. I even expect he will make improvements on it, too."
"Is that right?" A pirate demanded. "Lieutenant Ratts, are you sure you can get the ship running?"
"Maybe we should send out a distress signal." Another said.
"How many escape pods are on this ship? A panicked voice asked.
"No, no, no." Stone stomped his foot. "No distress signal, no escape pods. Whitey, you snake. Don't you men see what this Lucifer is trying to do? He is trying to get you to doubt my command. He is trying to take power from me. Let me tell you all something- I am in command by order of the Supreme Commander and I will command."
"For now," a pirate grumbled and was echoed by mumbles of agreement.
"Who said that?" Stone drew a sword from under his coat. I'll cut him down!
"Put that thing away." Whitey sneered. "We do not have time for nonsense. The best thing you men can do is to continue to work on repairs to the ship. Dr. Ratts, I have engineers; shall I send them to the engine room to help?"
Lieutenant Ratts shook his head and left, glad to be away from the discomforts of people.
Whitey caught Ratts' arm as he walked by, his whisper was kindly, "Dr. Ratstoven, Julia is at our shuttle bay if you were wondering."
"Thank you. She can take care of herself."
Stone wiped spit off of his beard with the back of his coat sleeve. He yelled "Enough of this. Snowman, get in there and get to work! Get in there and pull out the smaller parts."
Stone turned on O-bee with disdain for the cowardly man and bullied him to make himself look like a commander. "Fatso, what are you doing here gawking like a school girl at a puppy show? Get back to the command center and hack into the computer, we have to get this Flying Dutchman moving now!"
Stone felt control slipping again and began to bully the men. "You men clear a work area. Find tools. Get to work."
As if it were the last and indisputable word Stone spun around and stomped away. The men began to mill about.
"Guys," Whitey spoke up, "I want to make one thing clear, I am not a member of the brotherhood, I'm an independent contractor, I do not want to take Stonebutt's command. I do not want any part of this revolution. I agree that the home planet has done wrong to the colony worlds but, in my opinion, this rebellion is a mistake. When this ship is delivered I take my men and go."
"But," one man said, "If something should happen to Stonebutt you would be the logical choice to lead us."
Men murmured in agreement.
"Hell, if I will ever follow a bastard like you." A voice from the back said. Crow pushed his way through the crowd.
"Do you have a problem with me?" Whitey demanded.
"Yes, Crow grumbled, "you are a bastard."
"That's an insult."
"If the truth is an insult."
Whitey looked at the men. "The red book gives me the right to satisfaction."
"Oh, but you are not part of the brotherhood." Crow mocked.
"Nice to hide behind a technicality."
Crow lunged at him. Whitey's two bodyguards moved fast, getting between the Boss and the pirate. Crow crashed into their bodies, a moment later he found himself face against the floor, with arms pinned behind and the weight of the two men holding him down.
"You coward, Whitey! You let your men fight for you."
"Let him up guys. You want to fight me, OK. I'm game. Knives, for first blood."
"Sure." Crow said ruefully, "First blood."
"What's first blood?" Tom asked one of the men.
"The first one to make the other bleed wins the fight and the argument."
Whitey unbuckled his holsters and gave them to Blackjack, and pulled out the long knife from his boot.
Crow drew a long curved blade from his belt.
Both men glared at the other, each crouching in readiness. Crow lunged first. Whitey twisted sideways and sidestepped the thrust, tripping Crow as he did. Crow fell on his face.
"You fight like a girl," Crow said as he got up.
"And you lost a fight with one yesterday."
"It's not finished," Crow grumbled and lunged again. Whitey side stepped it and punched Crow in the ribs as he stumbled by.
Crow twirled about sweeping his knife through the air at Whitey's gut but Whitey stepped backward as crow overspun and lost his balance.
"I am willing to postpone this fight until you sober up." Whitey quipped.
Crow lunged again as Whitey twisted sideways grabbing his arm and using his momentum to cause the big man to fall forward.
Crow returned at a running charge his arms opened wide for a clutch hold, but was thrown backward by Whitey's jumping kick to his face before. He stumbled back into the crowd of jeering men who pushed him forward at as Whitey swept his knife in a feint toward Crow's midsection. Now wary, Crow backed up again to be pushed forward once more by the men. Whitey swept his knife again, Crow backed up. Whitey approached with another feint for the midsection but turned upward at the last instant. Crow swung his blade down to guard his waist before feeling the steel across his face. The edge of the blade stung like fire across his cheek.
The men cheered. Blood dripped from the red line on Crow's blistered face.
"First blood." Whitey declared.
Crow felt the cool of blood dripping down his chin. Touching it he stared at the red in his hand.
Whitey saw respect and admiration in the men's eyes. "Does anyone challenge that this was a fair and just fight according to the red book?"
"Fair and just." the men called back.
Whitey turned his back on Crow and walked away. He knew Crow would come. The sound of running steps told him he was right. Turning he brought the knife up. Crow was almost on top of him as the knife cut the space suit below his sternum and slid up inside Crow's chest.
"That's for chasing little girls around the ship and trying to rape them. Whitey hissed. "It is better than you deserve." Crow slumped to his knees and lay over on his side as blood puddled around him.
Whitey looked at the men. "Does anybody claim the right of avenger or do you declare this to be a fair and just killing."
There was silence. From the back, a voice called out, "Fair and just." Others repeated, fair and just until it was a chant.
Whitey held up his hand to silence the men. I suggest any of you who have mechanical experience should work on the stardivers. And everyone else should continue to make whatever repairs to the ship that they are able. But you should stay away from the social section of the ship. My security officer found a deathbot and my men are hunting it down. I wouldn't want anyone to get caught by the deathbot before we kill it.
Tom crawled into the dark narrow spaces beneath the stardiver in the crate on his hands and knees, finding his way by touch. His groping hands found the boxes and smaller parts. He had to crawl out backward pulling the parts. Some were too heavy and he had to bring a chain in and loop it around the pieces so they could be pulled out. Finally, when everything was out the robots began to cut the crate away from the starfighter. With lasers they cut around the top, then they cut away the sides. The fully exposed starfighter looked even more deadly. Tom got the sense that like a cat it was about to pounce on a smaller prey, still he gazed at it with admiration. It was legendary, a starfighter was an awesome craft of war, and here was one only a few feet away from him.
“What shall we do now?” One of the men asked.
“Don’t know.” Another said. “Open more crates I guess, look for instructions and get the parts laid out in some order.”
Ratts loved machines. The size and purpose made no difference to him, they were predictable. He thought about them when he wasn’t brooding over his loneliness and loss. When he closed his eyes he saw one of two images, machines or Julia; but the image of Julia was fading.
The gravity generators near engineering were offline so he pulled himself down the stairs to the power room and floated to the door. The pad didn’t open the door. Good, He thought. Using a handrail he pulled himself to the engine room. The pad didn’t open the door at his touch. Good,” he brought out a small black box and held it against the door pad. A light flashed on the box and the door opened onto a black unlit cavern of a room. Though there was no lights or heat but there was gravity, debris covered the floor.
“Number four, report, please.” He spoke as soft as ever.
The black death-bot came out of the darkness. Its power hammer arm lowering as it came. “Father, your instructions are fulfilled.”
“Please show me, Number Four.”
The robot turned on tractor treads and rolled back into the darkness. Ratts turned on the light in his suit's sleeve and began to sweep it back and forth. Along the walls were panels, monitors, and controls. The monitors were pulled loose with some completely removed and on the floor. Cables, wires, pieces of electronic hardware and metal hung out of the wall panels, and more were scattered across the floor. Ratts swung his light to the middle of the room where two long table like stations stood with more panels and screens, knobs and levers.
“Number Four. I want you to do the same to the two manual console stations. Tear everything up. No need to be careful. Rip it all apart.”
He walked back to the darkest part of the room and passed through two reinforced doors to admire the engines. The engines were as tall as a small building and about a city block long. The side walls had monitor stations and desks with rows of valves and levers in pipes.
“Number four. When you finish dismantling the control stations I want you to wield the levers and valves shut.”
“Yes, Master.”
Ratts took a little wallet out of his pocket. He opened it. The smiling face of a girl with black eyes and hair looked at him from the photo inside. “Soon, Julia my love. I will be with you. I am coming. I will be purged by fire. You don’t know how much I miss you.”
“Good-by, number four. You always do a fine job. Thank you.” He turned and walked past the robot who was destroying the only manual override system able to turn on the engines. When he left the room he locked the door behind him.
Returning to the cargo bay he asked. “Did we find any blueprints of the starfighter?” He was glad to have a diversion, a project. He would build a starfighter. He would not think about Julia for 52 hours he would not think about the fiery death he condemned himself. His only comfort was that he had condemned Stone and his mob too. “They all deserve it. They are murders, all of them. They are part of the problem. It is their fault that Julia is dead.” But not now, he had a game to play. He had to build something he had to build another machine of death.
(c) Adron
Chapter 58
Whitey marched back to the cargo bay followed by his two bodyguards.
"Boss," Ben asked, "why aren't we going with the others to get the girl?"
"Or kill the death-bot?" Blackjack asked.
"I know you boys feel like you are abandoning your teams in a fight, but I want to keep an eye on Stone and his stupid lot. I want to make sure they stay put at the cargo bay so Red's team can rescue the kid without any interference from those pirate idiots.
* * *
“Let’s get to work.” It was the first time anyone heard Ratts raise his voice. “Tom, you are smallest, so crawl into the crate where no one else can go. Drag out the smaller boxes and the pieces. Then the robots can cut the crate away from the starfighter. Some of you men give him a hand. I’ll be back in a little while to check on your progress. I'm going to try a start-up sequence on the engines."
“Good to hear that you are on it,” Whitey said as he walked up, "since you know we are drifting."
“What?” Stone turned on him. “There you go again. You act like it is a big deal. We are in no danger. We will get the access code to the computer, or hack it somehow, or go manual.”
White looked around at the men. All of the Captain’s followers were there. No discipline, he said to himself. They'll stand around gawking all day. He made eye contact randomly with the men of Stone's Command. The discovery of the starfighters had a positive effect on them.
“Captain," He said looking at the ceiling as if he couldn't care less. "We are drifting. Auto systems are offline like everything else. My men are taking star readings and we are drifting about 2000 kilometers an hour. In 52 hours we will be in the gravity well of the planet and we will burn up in the atmosphere.” Wide-eyed alarm dominated the faces of Stone’s men. Whitey was gratified, he had attacked his rival and caused the men to doubt Stone’s competence. He showed Stone's men that he, Whitey, knew what was happening and Stone didn’t. “So, Lieutenant Ratts, if you can get the engines running that would be a very good thing.”
Stone was sputtering, he was aware that Whitey had made him look weak in front of his men. "Whitey! I give the orders. Lieutenant Ratts get the engines running."
The grim-faced Dr. Ratts started to leave.
“And then get the starfighters ready," Stone added. "Whitey, get the ship's defenses in shape.” He saw as if for the first time the men standing around gaping at him, their faces held fear. “What are you guys doing standing around here? I want half of you working on getting the starfighters ready and the rest of you to get back to your duties.”
The crowd of men glared at him. "What does Lieutenant Whitey mean that we are drifting?" One asked.
"Hey, are we going to crash?" Another asked.
"No." Another sneered, "We are going to burn up in the atmosphere."
"Common, Captain, What are you doing about this?" Another demanded.
"I am in control of everything." Stone asserted, "It is all under control. Now you men go about your duties. Lieutenant Ratts will get the engines started manually and Lieutenant O'bee will hack into the ship's computer and we will be ok."
The men grumbled. "What about you, Lieutenant Whitey? What do you think?"
"Professor Ratts is more than able to get this ship running. I even expect he will make improvements on it, too."
"Is that right?" A pirate demanded. "Lieutenant Ratts, are you sure you can get the ship running?"
"Maybe we should send out a distress signal." Another said.
"How many escape pods are on this ship? A panicked voice asked.
"No, no, no." Stone stomped his foot. "No distress signal, no escape pods. Whitey, you snake. Don't you men see what this Lucifer is trying to do? He is trying to get you to doubt my command. He is trying to take power from me. Let me tell you all something- I am in command by order of the Supreme Commander and I will command."
"For now," a pirate grumbled and was echoed by mumbles of agreement.
"Who said that?" Stone drew a sword from under his coat. I'll cut him down!
"Put that thing away." Whitey sneered. "We do not have time for nonsense. The best thing you men can do is to continue to work on repairs to the ship. Dr. Ratts, I have engineers; shall I send them to the engine room to help?"
Lieutenant Ratts shook his head and left, glad to be away from the discomforts of people.
Whitey caught Ratts' arm as he walked by, his whisper was kindly, "Dr. Ratstoven, Julia is at our shuttle bay if you were wondering."
"Thank you. She can take care of herself."
Stone wiped spit off of his beard with the back of his coat sleeve. He yelled "Enough of this. Snowman, get in there and get to work! Get in there and pull out the smaller parts."
Stone turned on O-bee with disdain for the cowardly man and bullied him to make himself look like a commander. "Fatso, what are you doing here gawking like a school girl at a puppy show? Get back to the command center and hack into the computer, we have to get this Flying Dutchman moving now!"
Stone felt control slipping again and began to bully the men. "You men clear a work area. Find tools. Get to work."
As if it were the last and indisputable word Stone spun around and stomped away. The men began to mill about.
"Guys," Whitey spoke up, "I want to make one thing clear, I am not a member of the brotherhood, I'm an independent contractor, I do not want to take Stonebutt's command. I do not want any part of this revolution. I agree that the home planet has done wrong to the colony worlds but, in my opinion, this rebellion is a mistake. When this ship is delivered I take my men and go."
"But," one man said, "If something should happen to Stonebutt you would be the logical choice to lead us."
Men murmured in agreement.
"Hell, if I will ever follow a bastard like you." A voice from the back said. Crow pushed his way through the crowd.
"Do you have a problem with me?" Whitey demanded.
"Yes, Crow grumbled, "you are a bastard."
"That's an insult."
"If the truth is an insult."
Whitey looked at the men. "The red book gives me the right to satisfaction."
"Oh, but you are not part of the brotherhood." Crow mocked.
"Nice to hide behind a technicality."
Crow lunged at him. Whitey's two bodyguards moved fast, getting between the Boss and the pirate. Crow crashed into their bodies, a moment later he found himself face against the floor, with arms pinned behind and the weight of the two men holding him down.
"You coward, Whitey! You let your men fight for you."
"Let him up guys. You want to fight me, OK. I'm game. Knives, for first blood."
"Sure." Crow said ruefully, "First blood."
"What's first blood?" Tom asked one of the men.
"The first one to make the other bleed wins the fight and the argument."
Whitey unbuckled his holsters and gave them to Blackjack, and pulled out the long knife from his boot.
Crow drew a long curved blade from his belt.
Both men glared at the other, each crouching in readiness. Crow lunged first. Whitey twisted sideways and sidestepped the thrust, tripping Crow as he did. Crow fell on his face.
"You fight like a girl," Crow said as he got up.
"And you lost a fight with one yesterday."
"It's not finished," Crow grumbled and lunged again. Whitey side stepped it and punched Crow in the ribs as he stumbled by.
Crow twirled about sweeping his knife through the air at Whitey's gut but Whitey stepped backward as crow overspun and lost his balance.
"I am willing to postpone this fight until you sober up." Whitey quipped.
Crow lunged again as Whitey twisted sideways grabbing his arm and using his momentum to cause the big man to fall forward.
Crow returned at a running charge his arms opened wide for a clutch hold, but was thrown backward by Whitey's jumping kick to his face before. He stumbled back into the crowd of jeering men who pushed him forward at as Whitey swept his knife in a feint toward Crow's midsection. Now wary, Crow backed up again to be pushed forward once more by the men. Whitey swept his knife again, Crow backed up. Whitey approached with another feint for the midsection but turned upward at the last instant. Crow swung his blade down to guard his waist before feeling the steel across his face. The edge of the blade stung like fire across his cheek.
The men cheered. Blood dripped from the red line on Crow's blistered face.
"First blood." Whitey declared.
Crow felt the cool of blood dripping down his chin. Touching it he stared at the red in his hand.
Whitey saw respect and admiration in the men's eyes. "Does anyone challenge that this was a fair and just fight according to the red book?"
"Fair and just." the men called back.
Whitey turned his back on Crow and walked away. He knew Crow would come. The sound of running steps told him he was right. Turning he brought the knife up. Crow was almost on top of him as the knife cut the space suit below his sternum and slid up inside Crow's chest.
"That's for chasing little girls around the ship and trying to rape them. Whitey hissed. "It is better than you deserve." Crow slumped to his knees and lay over on his side as blood puddled around him.
Whitey looked at the men. "Does anybody claim the right of avenger or do you declare this to be a fair and just killing."
There was silence. From the back, a voice called out, "Fair and just." Others repeated, fair and just until it was a chant.
Whitey held up his hand to silence the men. I suggest any of you who have mechanical experience should work on the stardivers. And everyone else should continue to make whatever repairs to the ship that they are able. But you should stay away from the social section of the ship. My security officer found a deathbot and my men are hunting it down. I wouldn't want anyone to get caught by the deathbot before we kill it.
***
“What shall we do now?” One of the men asked.
“Don’t know.” Another said. “Open more crates I guess, look for instructions and get the parts laid out in some order.”
***
Ratts loved machines. The size and purpose made no difference to him, they were predictable. He thought about them when he wasn’t brooding over his loneliness and loss. When he closed his eyes he saw one of two images, machines or Julia; but the image of Julia was fading.
The gravity generators near engineering were offline so he pulled himself down the stairs to the power room and floated to the door. The pad didn’t open the door. Good, He thought. Using a handrail he pulled himself to the engine room. The pad didn’t open the door at his touch. Good,” he brought out a small black box and held it against the door pad. A light flashed on the box and the door opened onto a black unlit cavern of a room. Though there was no lights or heat but there was gravity, debris covered the floor.
“Number four, report, please.” He spoke as soft as ever.
The black death-bot came out of the darkness. Its power hammer arm lowering as it came. “Father, your instructions are fulfilled.”
“Please show me, Number Four.”
The robot turned on tractor treads and rolled back into the darkness. Ratts turned on the light in his suit's sleeve and began to sweep it back and forth. Along the walls were panels, monitors, and controls. The monitors were pulled loose with some completely removed and on the floor. Cables, wires, pieces of electronic hardware and metal hung out of the wall panels, and more were scattered across the floor. Ratts swung his light to the middle of the room where two long table like stations stood with more panels and screens, knobs and levers.
“Number Four. I want you to do the same to the two manual console stations. Tear everything up. No need to be careful. Rip it all apart.”
He walked back to the darkest part of the room and passed through two reinforced doors to admire the engines. The engines were as tall as a small building and about a city block long. The side walls had monitor stations and desks with rows of valves and levers in pipes.
“Number four. When you finish dismantling the control stations I want you to wield the levers and valves shut.”
“Yes, Master.”
Ratts took a little wallet out of his pocket. He opened it. The smiling face of a girl with black eyes and hair looked at him from the photo inside. “Soon, Julia my love. I will be with you. I am coming. I will be purged by fire. You don’t know how much I miss you.”
“Good-by, number four. You always do a fine job. Thank you.” He turned and walked past the robot who was destroying the only manual override system able to turn on the engines. When he left the room he locked the door behind him.
Returning to the cargo bay he asked. “Did we find any blueprints of the starfighter?” He was glad to have a diversion, a project. He would build a starfighter. He would not think about Julia for 52 hours he would not think about the fiery death he condemned himself. His only comfort was that he had condemned Stone and his mob too. “They all deserve it. They are murders, all of them. They are part of the problem. It is their fault that Julia is dead.” But not now, he had a game to play. He had to build something he had to build another machine of death.
***
"Boss," one of the bodyguards asked. "Are we really drifting 2000 klicks an hour?"
"We are drifting, Ben," Whitey replied seriously.
"So, we will be in the gravity well of the planet in 52 hours?" Blackjack asked.
"I was playing politics boys. And like all politicians I made up the numbers. We will be in the gravity well of something in about 2 million years, I guess."
"So, we will be in the gravity well of the planet in 52 hours?" Blackjack asked.
"I was playing politics boys. And like all politicians I made up the numbers. We will be in the gravity well of something in about 2 million years, I guess."
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