by Jake Elwood
"All right. Everyone who answers to the EDF, get the hell off my ship."
Beside him, a colonist stepped back from O'Hare, allowing the man to finally straighten up. O'Hare, white-faced and wide-eyed, had no chance to recover his composure. The man who'd pressed him to the bulkhead now holstered his pistol, put a hand on each of O'Hare's shoulders from behind, and lined him up with the opening of the airlock. A quick shove sent the EDF man stumbling forward, and a hard kick to the seat of his pants drove him through the hatch.
No one quite had the nerve to be so rough with the marines. The colonists stayed back, and the four marines, stripped of their rifles but still wearing holstered sidearms, marched to the hatch and into the lock. Holmes hung back, looking terrified, then scuttled after the marines as the last man stepped through the hatch.
Ron followed Holmes into the hatch. A moment later, Hammett heard a clang as the outer hatch closed. Ron returned, looking satisfied. He grinned at Hammett and said, "Let's return to the bridge, shall we? I daresay this isn't over."
The other colonists moved aside, clearing a path. Hammett nodded his thanks, then followed Ron along the catwalk. Ron was murmuring as he walked, talking to someone via his implants. Hammett walked with him, glad to be spared the need to make conversation. Should he thank the man? Or tell him off for making a bad situation worse?
Eddie stood on the catwalk in front of the bridge, eyes wide. He hurried into the bridge as they approached. Hammett stepped through the doorway and took a position along one bulkhead. The mission was complete, after all. He was no longer in command. Sanjari came over to stand beside him, giving him an inquiring look. He shrugged. It was all too much to explain quickly.
The two ships were still docked together. Hammett could see the gleaming hull of the Assegai, latched to the nose of the Theseus. Other ships filled the sky around them, some from the relief fleet, some from the EDF fleet. It was an alarming amount of firepower when tensions were running so high.
Ron moved to the middle of the bridge, then hesitated. He looked at Hammett. "I'll borrow your chair if I may, Captain. It's the simplest way to take a call."
Hal promptly spoke. "Message from the Assegai." He looked uncertainly from Hammett to Ron. Hammett made a "go ahead" gesture and Ron sat in the captain's chair.
"This is Ronald Faraday, military commander of colonial forces."
That made Hammett raise his eyebrows. By the glance Hal and Eddie exchanged, the title was news to them too. They didn't look displeased, though.
"This is Colonel O'Hare of the Earth Defense Force." The man's voice shook with anger. It sounded as if he'd spent the last couple of minutes working himself into a rage. "The colony on Ariadne is a member of the United Worlds. You are subject to the laws of the republic and under the military jurisdiction of Spacecom."
Ron spoke, sounding unimpressed. "We'll declare ourselves an independent world if we must. And it appears we must. After all, you alternate between abandoning us and bullying us."
"I'm done negotiating," O'Hare snapped. "You will surrender your vessel immediately and unconditionally. All of your personnel will lay down their arms. Marines will board your vessel and collect weapons. All crew and passengers will be placed under arrest. Any resistance will be met with lethal force." His voice rose, an unmistakable tremor distorting his words. "If you refuse to surrender, the fleet will fire on your vessel. You will be destroyed." He stopped speaking for a moment, the noisy rasp of his breathing echoing from the bridge speakers. "Well? Do you surrender?"
Ron put a hand over the microphone on the arm of his chair and murmured, "Did you catch that?" He paused, then said, "Yes. Do it now."
A line of white fire blazed up from the planet below. It made a shaft of dazzling light, as thick as a man's waist, and it lanced through the void directly beside the hull of the Assegai. In fact, it left a black streak on the corvette's bridge window.
O'Hare, his voice a screech, said, "What the hell was that?"
"That," said Ron, "was my response to your little ultimatum." He chuckled, sounding altogether too pleased with himself. "It's your move."
When O'Hare spoke again it was clear he'd forgotten his microphone was on. His voice, barely audible, said, "What was that? Where did it come from?" After a moment of silence he said, "Well, can we destroy it?"
Ron said, "If you fire on the city of Harlequin your ship will be the first one destroyed, Mr. O'Hare. Your forces may win this battle, but I can guarantee you will not survive."
The bridge speakers went silent. Long seconds crawled past, and the tension in the air stretched tighter and tighter. Finally O'Hare spoke again, with the tone of a parent making a reluctant concession to an unruly child. "Fine. You can keep your freighter. You will, however, deliver Captain Hammett to the Assegai."
"No chance," Ron said promptly.
O'Hare said, "Can you hear me, Hammett? I'm giving you a direct order. Deliver yourself immediately to the Assegai to face court-martial. If I don't see you at that airlock in two minutes, you'll be tried in absentia, with desertion added to your other charges."
Hammett felt his skin go cold.
"Get over here, Captain," said O'Hare. "It's your last chance to avoid hanging."
Ron made a gesture and Hal cut the radio connection. Ron stood and turned. "Don’t worry. You don't have to go."
Hammett said, "Yes, I do."
Sanjari clutched his arm, squeezing hard enough that it hurt through the sleeve of his vac suit. "Captain, you can't!"
"I'm an officer in Spacecom," he said. "It's my duty."
Ron said, "You don't have a bloody duty to report to a prison cell."
"You don't understand," Hammett said. "You've never worn this uniform."
Sanjari shook him. "And you've never worn a uniform with a damned black armband. Neither have I, and I never will. I'll let them execute me for dereliction of duty before I'll do it."
He stared at her, startled.
"It's not the same Navy we joined," she said, staring up at him with anguish in her eyes. "You know that. You never would have joined a Navy run by the EDF. You never would have given your oath to a man like O'Hare."
Hammett lifted his hands helplessly. "But I DID join the Navy. I did give my oath."
"What was your oath, exactly?" she demanded. "What part of your oath allows for firing on the city of Harlequin?"
He squirmed.
"How about ordering your marines to fire on colonists?" she said. "What happens if Carruthers decides he won't stand for it? What happens when I refuse to put on the armband?" She let go of his arm and put her hands on her hips. "Will you command my firing squad?"
He said, "Sanjari …"
"It will come to that," she said. "I won't serve the EDF." She brought a hand up and thumped it on his chest. "I won't do it, do you understand me? If you keep serving them, maybe you'll be the one they send after me."
"I doubt it."
She nodded. "I know. They won't give you any responsibility. Not after today. They'll stick you in a cell and leave you to rot. You won't have to make any tough choices." She glared at him, and he flinched. She'd always been the perfect subordinate. He'd never seen her so fierce.
"I'll still stand up to them," she said. "I'll still fight them. And they'll come after me. And you'll be no help at all."
There was a long silence. He said helplessly, "I've worn this uniform since I was twenty years old."
"You're done with that uniform," she said. "Get it through your head. It's over. You get a prison jumpsuit now. That's if you're lucky."
He said, "They won't …" He let his voice trail off. No, they wouldn't execute him. That wasn't what she meant. The fate she meant, the fate worse than prison, was wearing an armband and serving the EDF.
"Call from the Assegai," said Hal.
Hammett made a curt gesture and O'Hare's smug voice filled the bridge. "Hammett. You're running out of time. Are you coming, or not?"
Hammett looked down at his
vac suit with the three horizontal stripes of a captain across the chest. He remembered how he'd felt when he received the promotion. His feet had barely touched the deck plates for a week. Even his lieutenant's uniform had been an enormous source of pride. Hell, even the ill-fitting cadet jumpsuit he'd worn during training had made him feel like a knight in shining armor.
Keep it bright. The words swam up out of his memory. Three long decades had passed since a grizzled sergeant had spoken those words to a starry-eyed cadet in the halls of the Naval academy. You're proud of your shiny new uniform. Keep it bright. Stay proud. If you disgrace that uniform, it all means nothing.
For three decades those words had rattled around in the back of his mind, guiding his decisions. Even more than his vows, more than the uniform itself, that offhand little speech had shaped him. He was proud of his uniform. Intensely proud.
If he gave in to the EDF, he realized, he would be proud of the uniform no longer.
O'Hare said, "Well?"
"Go to hell," Hammett said. "I’m done with you."
Hal cut the connection. A long moment of silence passed. Then, with a metallic clatter, the Assegai uncoupled from the Theseus and floated backward. When several dozen meters separated the two ships the nose of the corvette swung around. With a flare of light from their engines the EDF fleet moved away from Ariadne, leaving the Theseus and the nine ships of the relief fleet drifting quietly in orbit.
Hammett took a deep breath, held it for as long as he could, then let air dribble out through his nose. He felt dizzy, disoriented, drunk. He felt as if reality itself had just torn.
Ron stood and stepped away from the captain's chair. He walked up to Hammett and said, "Welcome to the armed forces of the Independent Republic of Naxos."
Thanks for reading. Book 3 will be coming soon.
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Author Notes
Jake Elwood is a Canadian writer of science fiction, especially adventurous space opera with a dash of humor. When he's not at a keyboard he likes hiking and biking and sometimes kayaking on the Bow River. He is also the author of Stars Like Cold Fire, under the pen name Brent Nichols.
Stars Like Cold Fire
Jeff Yi survives the hell of the Naval Academy and looks forward to a quiet posting as a junior officer on a battle cruiser – until an assassination attempt makes it clear that his father's legacy might yet get him killed. The admiralty can see only one way to keep him safe - give him a command of his own. Jeff takes over the Petrel, the smallest, ugliest ship in the fleet. He's in over his head, in deep space, with a crew that resents his unearned promotion. He has to learn the ropes and earn their respect, and he has to do it quickly – the galaxy is about to erupt in interstellar war.
Purchase Stars Like Cold Fire now - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01K5WHTA6/
For more titles and releases by Jake Elwood check out his website and don’t forget to sign up for his mailing list: http://jakeelwoodwriter.com/
