by K R Sanford
“All stop,” ordered Marco. He gazed at the stars in the universe.
Ryan, seeing Marco lost in muse stabbed his finger at the viewer, “You can set us down Miss Chew.”
“We have atmosphere,” said Clorissa helping at the controls.
“Composition?” asked Marco.
“Air mixture, Gravity, all normal,” said Clorissa.
Marco got up from his command chair. “Well, I’m going to take a walk outside,” he said. “Anyone care to join me? Walters, let’s go. You’re taking a walk.”
A moment later, Marco was stood on the platform ordering Captain Walters to stand at-ease. At the edge of the platform they watch the universe of stars rotate in their orbits.
The great ships began empting out on the runway.
“They all want to hear from the Emperor,” said Ryan.
“Here comes, Marty,” said Hector. “This migration is obvious.”
“Hello, guys,” said Marty. “It’s funny and tragic at the same time. This is what I signed up for. To see a sight like this from the starbase of a superior being who has become a good friend. Then, to see something I wished to never see. It turns my stomach watching a colleague end up an enemy. I'm wondering now, if he will go insane or throw his self over the edge.”
“We are going to live by the adage ‘Make our enemy become our ally’,” said Ryan. “And, if we can’t make it work, we didn’t try hard enough. It’s on our heads for failing ourselves.”
“He looks so pathetic now, whimpering like a dog,” said Marty. “Most of these people what to toss him over board into the frozen space.”
“He doesn’t know what he is whimpering about,” said Hector. “And, these people want to see the Emperor.”
“I hear you are going to get tapped to command the fleet,” said Ryan, “Any truth to that?”
“He’s going to gut the fleet,” said Marty. The old school are going home; too much corruption at the expense of tradition.”
“I heard Vito once say, if you’re going to live the life of a criminal you better be honest,” said Ryan. “It looks like Marco’s got something.”
“Well, he’s a project, honest or not,” said Marco. “How many we got out here, Marty.”
“There’s close to seven thousand seven hundred personnel,” said Marty. There’s three thousand on the Mastodon. Fifteen hundred are on each battle cruiser and twelve hundred on the Eagle. Plus there are two hundred Marillians. Then we have three hundred Amedans and fifty Vallians. That’s seven thousand seven hundred fifty, thereabouts.”
“Thereabouts?” said Marco.
Marty shrugged.
Marco pointed his chin at Walters. “Is he going to make it, Marty?” asked Marco.
“Only he can decide that,” said Marty. “If he wallows in self-pity he’s done.”
“We should give him something to fight for,” said Ryan.
“Like what?” said Marco, “His psyche is broke but not his spirit. Inside, he might be laughing at us.”
“Is that true?” said Marty. “Let him be. He’s under my command. If he can’t function then he’ll get taken into custody. I can’t have him a liability on the Mastodon.”
“Okay,” said Marco. “He has to pull his own weight on my ship, Colonel.”
“Yes, I know, Captain. I’ll tell him,” said Marty. “Now if you will excuse me, I see someone I need to speak to.”
“Kiterage is next, along with the people protecting him, and that’s a big list,” said Hector.
“I know,” said Marco.
Hector, in a peacemaking tone, “You better settle down, old buddy, practice what you preach. And, I say this in kindness.”
“Let’s take a walk,” said Marco. “While I’m practicing what I preach, we’re going to take that project with us. Since the Emperor won’t let us kill him, we’ll have to fix him.”
“You’re a wounded healer, who better?” replied Hector.
“Yes, and I know that too,” said Marco. “I guess I’m going to have to go through the same things he’s going through right now.”
“This is normal,” said Hector. “You are going to get passed that. Call him over here and you can give him your speech.”
“Walters,” hailed Marco with a hand gesture.
Marco, Hector and Ryan, in the dark officer’s blues waited for Walters to pull himself off the runway. He walked to the three and gave a crisp salute. The protocol correct for the flagship of the Emperor Lord Legion. They returned the salute with perfect form.
“Tag along if you want, Walters. We are going to go through the basics,” said Marco.
“Very well,” replied Walters.
They walked without a word for what seemed like a mile. Looking out across the translucent runway did nothing to impress Walters. Seeing through the clear dome was still not enough to impress the condemned man. But it would be enough to cause any normal mind to see they were not in a mortal place. Looking to the stardust below on all sides of the Temple was transcending. This, to experience would make a man weak at the knees, even fearful.
Who owns this palace of the gods? The thought of the Emperor Lord Legion watching kept Marco placing one foot in front of the other. Curiosity got the better of him. He stopped where he was. As if eyes were feeling his backside asking for him to move, he turned to see if his premonition was right. The Emperor stood in the observation window with Governor Grantham at his side.
Tears began rolling down his face, tears of joy that he was happy and would do anything the Emperor asked of him. It doesn’t get any more real than this, he thought. Marco dropped to his knees like that day fifteen years ago in Woodland Forest. It was the day he knelt on the mulch reminiscing of his home in Muir Woods, California. The day his senses came to him. The day he started on his recovery from the attack of the Interstellar Forces. What they did to Jim Walters to make him sell his soul and betray his men was still a mystery. Or, was it his proud psychopathic thirst for blood that turned him into a classic predator.
“That’s quite a sight,” said Grantham.
It sure is, Governor,” replied the Emperor. “We are going to wait for our drones to report the position of the fleet. Then, Colonel Stiller will order their ships to mass here. Kiterage’s convoy will annex to the fleet. Every cargo ship and every man spot onboard will assemble as workers.”
“No one knows to this day if Kiterage was working for you.”
“I was expecting more casualties but Kiterage’s timing was impeccable.
Grantham laughed, “He can be a showman.”
The Emperor replied, “Secrecy is impossible to control.”
“The fewer that know what’s going on the better,” replied Grantham.
“Vito recommended Kiterage for this delivery,” said Legion. “If they were to make port we would not be able to complete our bridge as planned. The news would have brought the project to a halt. The special interest groups have too much power. If I would have gotten involved at the start, I would get painted a crazy alien. I would never get their trust. Unfortunate we lost the three techs.”
“You almost sound human, My Lord,” said Grantham.
“Speaking of human, come with me. I want to place these stars on Stiller’s shoulders.”
The magnavator door opened. “Woo,” exclaimed Grantham.
The Emperor laughed, “It’s the cafeteria and the casino,” replied Legion. “What do you bet Stiller is in the casino.”
Grantham shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Oh, come on Governor, be like god and roll the dice.”
“Legion, you are incorrigible,” said Grantham.
“I know. Isn’t it great? Hey, look, there they are.”
The Legion and Grantham shuffled through the crowded casino. Vito was speaking to a customer when they approached. He leaned forward to whisper into Vito’s ear.
The customer announced, “You can't butt into our conversation
The Emperor faced the custom
er. The customer froze at the sight of the Emperor. The customer’s face wrinkled as if old age cursed him where he stood. His skin withered like tissue paper. His hair thinned white. His body withered frail. And his hands shriveled into the sleeves of the officer’s coat.
Vito nodded, taking little notice of the customer’s old age. He extended his hand in a dismissing gesture.
The Emperor turned from Vito and looked back into the customer’s face. He walked away collecting Grantham and Stiller then disappeared into the crowd. The costumer transformed back into his youthful age of thirty and began to weep.
“I’m sorry Mister Tarasco. I will never take my youth for granted ever again. I’m so sorry I bothered you, Sir. Please, forgive me. It won’t happen again.” The customer turned and walked out of the casino.
Vito stood in silence watching the customer leave without looking back. The bodyguard stepped next to Vito and replied, “What was that all about?”
Vito as if the event was part of any ordinary day, replied, “I have no idea. You better call a partner, the place is getting full-up since the Emperor and Grantham joined us.”
“May I have your attention please,” said the Emperor.
As the Emperor spoke, a holographic projected onto the runway. The Emperor was standing with Stiller and Grantham.
He reached out to and placed a silver star on Stiller’s shoulder. He said, “General Marty Stiller, congratulation. You are hereby under my authority. You are now Commander of the Intergalactic Fleet in the Middle Corridor. General Stiller, serve us well.” Legion gave General Stiller a firm hand shake and the words, "Sub Rosa."
The stage was celebrating with the Intersteller Forces. The exuberance and support surprised Governor Grantham. The Emperor showed pleasure seeing and meeting everyone. He stayed, shaking hands. He asked for their names and where they were from. He invited everyone to come to the Corsi Star System for a visit and to Ameda in particular. “Come visit us during Festival.” He would say. All projected in 3D over the golden runway. The event recorded and transmitted to the outer parts of the galaxy.
“We got trouble in paradise boss,” said Vito’s bodyguard.
“They’ll work it out, Bobby,” said Vito. “You can bet they’ll shut that shit down quick.”
“Someone got hold of Walters and knocked him around pretty good,” said Bobby.
“Oh, dear,” said Vito, shaking his head. “Who’s there now?”
“Marco and Hector,” said Bobby. “The soldiers have circled. Ryan went for the Marillians.”
“How many soldiers?” Vito asked.
“About thirty,” said Bobby.
“Okay,” said Vito. “This is Marty’s jurisdiction. All we can do is watch. Bring it up on the screen.”
One thousand yards off the port side, several hundred soldiers circled one man. The man, on the ground, struggled to his feet. He got knocked back down and kicked. A line formed from the main body of the fleet adding more soldiers for the beating.
“He’s cut off from Marco and Hector," said Vito. "Where’s Interstellar Security?”
“I don’t know, boss,” said Bobby.
“Wait, Walters is getting back up. I think he wants to fight.”
“He was part of Stiller’s command," said Vito.
"That’s a tough group,” said Bobby.
General Stiller stepped in, “Bobby; weren’t you here ten minutes ago?”
“That’s right, General. These guys are assassins.”
“You got it, Bobby,” said Stiller. “I’ll be damned. He’s clearing a path. No they set a trap. It’s three on one. They’re rat packin’ em. He knocked one down. He’s got a thumb in the other’s eye. He tripped him into the third guy. The three are down. Walters suckered punched another one.”
“He has three hundred more to go,” said Bobby.
“I thought you said there were thirty soldiers.”
“Well, I could have miscounted,” said Bobby.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Vito. “Call ten of our people and get Marco and Hector out of there, and Bobby.”
Vito held up his hands with his fingers spread. “That’s ten, Bobby. See, ten fingers, ten of our people. Go.”
“Very well, Sir. And, Walters?” said Bobby.
“Ask him if he wants to join you. If he gives you any shit, fuck em. Leave him there. Maybe they’ll kick his brains out.”
“We’ll put them in a wedge formation,” said Bobby.”
“I don’t care what you do,” said Vito. “Get your ass down there before this thing turns into an Intersteller incident.”
Bobby was gone without a word. He twisted through the crowd like a Kung Fu Master. He swiped his finger across his communicator.
“Wow that Bobby sure can move when he wants to for such a big man,” said Grantham.
“Yes he can,” said Vito.
General Stiller and the Emperor step in front of the observation window.
Grantham turned to the viewing screen on the opposite wall, “There’s Bobby now. The Army respects Bobby and his crew.”
“Well, these guys play here and watch the Lounge Show. All these guys have been here before. I'm looking for an agitator. Sometimes a hot head will get in and stir up the crowd.”
“Yeah, all it takes is one,” said Grantham.
“Let’s move over and listen to what Legion and the customer are talking about.”
“Okay, I see that. The customer must be asking good questions,” replied Grantham.
The customer, a man of military age dressed in casual chic spoke. “Does this disturb you to watch that man get beat up this way?” he said.
“The offence was public; it’s a fitting comeuppance. What do you do for a living, Sir?”
“The name is Jimmy. I refit work stations.”
Well, that’s interesting, said Legion. “The guy out there is Jim.”
“Walters is down again,” said General Stiller.
“So, what did this guy do to get a public flogging?”
“Jimmy, this guy committed ‘The Unpardonable Sin,’ Jimmy,” replied Legion.
“Isn’t that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit?” asked Jimmy.
“In a way, yes; only this wasn’t a religious faux pas. It was treason. In the days of religious rule he would have been hung by his neck until he spit out his back side. This guy betrayed the group and the group took offence.”
“That does sound bad. Who are you, sir? If you don’t mind me asking; it seems you know a lot about this thing.”
“My name is Legion. What company are you with?”
“I’m with QubiCom,” said Jimmy, “Legion, as in ‘The Many’?”
“Well, look who knows their ancient history
“My Lord,” said General Stiller. “Excuse me, Walters is taking another beating. What do you want to do?”
“My Lord,” said Vito. “I sent Bobby down with his crew and Walters refused help.”
“It’s the Prisoner’s Dilemma,” said Jimmy. “He has to cooperate.”
“Legion straightened himself to his full seven foot height. “Ol’ Jimmy is right. He has to cooperate with the group; even if that means taking a good old fashion beating. It’s the spirit behind the intent. Would you agree, Jimmy?”
Jimmy quick to reply, said, “If he doesn’t show he is willing to take a proper beating, they won’t trust him. They’ll never trust him. He has to show he has the type of determination to meet the group’s sentence. He needs to face a beating to the death before someone can step in and give him reprieve. That’s why everyone has to watch this. There can be no doubt. And, if he lives, he may find something useful he can do; like, stay out of everybody’s way.”
The Emperor, smiling, “Well done, Jimmy. I think you may have saved that boy’s life out there. “General Stiller, would you like to send him a medical team?”
Stiller, giving the situation a moment’s thought replied. “Certainly,” he said. Then spoke into his communicator, “Sargent
Major Barnes, hold Walters for medical inspection.”
“Yes, Sir,” replied Barnes.
Vito reached for his communicator. “Bobby, have your team surround Walters with their backs turned toward him. Give him room. Medical is going to give him a good looking over.”
“You got it, Boss.” Bobby turned to the soldiers. All right,” he said. Bobby drawing out every syllable for dramatic effect, “Ev-ery-bo-dy move back, thank you, boys.”
Legion, standing in the observation window gave no expression. “I’m waiting for the group’s response,” he said. “What’s your read, Governor?”
“The crowd is going to test this starbase. They want to see what their limits are out here.”
“So, we let them,” replied Legion. “We give them that freedom. What if I said, there is only one rule out here. Do what you want.”
“Jimmy wants to know, if you had a nickname when you were a child?”
“No, not that I can recall,” he replied. “Thank you, Jimmy. You have been very helpful. If you will excuse me I need to attend to something important but stick around. Vito, give our new friend a beverage.”
“My Lord,” said Stiller, holding his finger to his ear. “The fleet has now blown through the wormhole.”
“Yes, I know,” said the Emperor. “This is your fleet, General Stiller. Secure them and bring me, Kiterage. Vito, have security clear out the observation deck. Leave two sentries to stand guard at the entrance.”
“Right away, My Lord,” said Vito, as if resupplying new cards for the blackjack tables.
Ryan opened a comlink. “Marco,” he said. “The fleet has entered space. The count is one hundred ships.”
“We’ll be right there,” he replied.
Vito signaled the Emperor with a raise of his chin. “The observation deck is ready.”
“Thank you, Mister Vito," said Legion. "General Stiller, let’s go. Governor, if you are available, this concerns you too. Vito, invite our new friend, Jimmy the Whip, to join us. One more thing, ask the cafeteria to send down food for three hundred.” Legion walked across the lobby to the casino. Keeping a low tone of voice he spoke. “General, I want the Captains and their science officers to join us in one hour.”
